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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +Prepared by Don Lainson + + + + + +A CHARMED LIFE + + +She loved him so, that when he went away to a little war in which +his country was interested she could not understand, nor quite +forgive. + +As the correspondent of a newspaper, Chesterton had looked on at +other wars; when the yellow races met, when the infidel Turk +spanked the Christian Greek; and one he had watched from inside a +British square, where he was greatly alarmed lest he should be +trampled upon by terrified camels. This had happened before he and +she had met. After they met, she told him that what chances he had +chosen to take before he came into her life fell outside of her +jurisdiction. But now that his life belonged to her, this talk of +his standing up to be shot at was wicked. It was worse than +wicked; it was absurd. + +When the Maine sank in Havana harbor and the word "war" was +appearing hourly in hysterical extras, Miss Armitage explained her +position. + +"You mustn't think," she said, "that I am one of those silly girls +who would beg you not to go to war." + +At the moment of speaking her cheek happened to be resting against +his, and his arm was about her, so he humbly bent his head and +kissed her, and whispered very proudly and softly, "No, dearest." + +At which she withdrew from him frowning. + +"No! I'm not a bit like those girls," she proclaimed. "I merely +tell you YOU CAN'T GO! My gracious!" she cried, helplessly. She +knew the words fell short of expressing her distress, but her +education had not supplied her with exclamations of greater +violence. + +"My goodness!" she cried. "How can you frighten me so? It's not +like you," she reproached him. "You are so unselfish, so noble. +You are always thinking of other people. How can you talk of going +to war--to be killed--to me? And now, now that you have made me +love you so?" + +The hands, that when she talked seemed to him like swallows darting +and flashing in the sunlight, clutched his sleeve. The fingers, +that he would rather kiss than the lips of any other woman that +ever lived, clung to his arm. Their clasp reminded him of that of +a drowning child he had once lifted from the surf. + +"If you should die," whispered Miss Armitage. "What would I do. +What would I do!" + +"But my dearest," cried the young man. "My dearest ONE! I've GOT +to go. It's our own war. Everybody else will go," he pleaded. +"Every man you know, and they're going to fight, too. I'm going +only to look on. That's bad enough, isn't it, without sitting at +home? You should be sorry I'm not going to fight." + +"Sorry!" exclaimed the girl. "If you love me--" + +"If I love you," shouted the young man. His voice suggested that +he was about to shake her. "How dare you?" + +She abandoned that position and attacked from one more logical. + +"But why punish me?" she protested. "Do I want the war? Do I want +to free Cuba? No! I want YOU, and if you go, you are the one who +is sure to be killed. You are so big--and so brave, and you will +be rushing in wherever the fighting is, and then--then you will +die." She raised her eyes and looked at him as though seeing him +from a great distance. "And," she added fatefully, "I will die, +too, or maybe I will have to live, to live without you for years, +for many miserable years." + +Fearfully, with great caution, as though in his joy in her he might +crush her in his hands, the young man drew her to him and held her +close. After a silence he whispered. "But, you know that nothing +can happen to me. Not now, that God has let me love you. He could +not be so cruel. He would not have given me such happiness to take +it from me. A man who loves you, as I love you, cannot come to any +harm. And the man YOU love is immortal, immune. He holds a +charmed life. So long as you love him, he must live." + +The eyes of the girl smiled up at him through her tears. She +lifted her lips to his. "Then you will never die!" she said. + +She held him away from her. "Listen!" she whispered. "What you +say is true. It must be true, because you are always right. I +love you so that nothing can harm you. My love will be a charm. +It will hang around your neck and protect you, and keep you, and +bring you back to me. When you are in danger my love will save +you. For, while it lives, I live. When it dies--" + +Chesterton kissed her quickly. + +"What happens then," he said, "doesn't matter." + +The war game had run its happy-go-lucky course briefly and +brilliantly, with "glory enough for all," even for Chesterton. +For, in no previous campaign had good fortune so persistently stood +smiling at his elbow. At each moment of the war that was critical, +picturesque, dramatic, by some lucky accident he found himself +among those present. He could not lose. Even when his press boat +broke down at Cardenas, a Yankee cruiser and two Spanish gun-boats, +apparently for his sole benefit, engaged in an impromptu duel +within range of his megaphone. When his horse went lame, the +column with which he had wished to advance, passed forward to the +front unmolested, while the rear guard, to which he had been forced +to join his fortune, fought its way through the stifling +underbrush. + +Between his news despatches, when he was not singing the praises of +his fellow-countrymen, or copying lists of their killed and +wounded, he wrote to Miss Armitage. His letters were scrawled on +yellow copy paper and consisted of repetitions of the three words, +"I love you," rearranged, illuminated, and intensified. + +Each letter began much in the same way. "The war is still going +on. You can read about it in the papers. What I want you to know +is that I love you as no man ever--" And so on for many pages. + +From her only one of the letters she wrote reached him. It was +picked up in the sand at Siboney after the medical corps, in an +effort to wipe out the yellow-fever, had set fire to the post- +office tent. + +She had written it some weeks before from her summer home at +Newport, and in it she said: "When you went to the front, I thought +no woman could love more than I did then. But, now I know. At +least I know one girl who can. She cannot write it. She can never +tell you. You must just believe. + +"Each day I hear from you, for as soon as the paper comes, I take +it down to the rocks and read your cables, and I look south across +the ocean to Cuba, and try to see you in all that fighting and heat +and fever. But I am not afraid. For each morning I wake to find I +love you more; that it has grown stronger, more wonderful, more +hard to bear. And I know the charm I gave you grows with it, and +is more powerful, and that it will bring you back to me wearing new +honors, 'bearing your sheaves with you.' + +"As though I cared for your new honors. I want YOU, YOU, YOU--only +YOU." + +When Santiago surrendered and the invading army settled down to +arrange terms of peace, and imbibe fever, and General Miles moved +to Porto Rico, Chesterton moved with him. + +In that pretty little island a command of regulars under a general +of the regular army had, in a night attack, driven back the +Spaniards from Adhuntas. The next afternoon as the column was in +line of march, and the men were shaking themselves into their +accoutrements, a dusty, sweating volunteer staff officer rode down +the main street of Adhuntas, and with the authority of a field +marshal, held up his hand. + +"General Miles's compliments, sir," he panted, "and peace is +declared!" + +Different men received the news each in a different fashion. Some +whirled their hats in the air and cheered. Those who saw promotion +and the new insignia on their straps vanish, swore deeply. +Chesterton fell upon his saddle-bags and began to distribute his +possessions among the enlisted men. After he had remobilized, his +effects consisted of a change of clothes, his camera, water-bottle, +and his medicine case. In his present state of health and spirits +he could not believe he stood in need of the medicine case, but it +was a gift from Miss Armitage, and carried with it a promise from +him that he always would carry it. He had "packed" it throughout +the campaign, and for others it had proved of value. + +"I take it you are leaving us," said an officer enviously. + +"I am leaving you so quick," cried Chesterton laughing, "that you +won't even see the dust. There's a transport starts from Mayaguez +at six to-morrow morning, and, if I don't catch it, this pony will +die on the wharf." + +"The road to Mayaguez is not healthy for Americans," said the +general in command. "I don't think I ought to let you go. The +enemy does not know peace is on yet, and there are a lot of +guerillas--" + +Chesterton shook his head in pitying wonder. + +"Not let me go!" he exclaimed. "Why, General, you haven't enough +men in your command to stop me, and as for the Spaniards and +guerillas--! I'm homesick," cried the young man. "I'm so damned +homesick that I am liable to die of it before the transport gets me +to Sandy Hook." + +"If you are shot up by an outpost," growled the general, "you will +be worse off than homesick. It's forty miles to Mayaguez. Better +wait till daylight. Where's the sense of dying, after the +fighting's over?" + +"If I don't catch that transport I sure WILL die," laughed +Chesterton. His head was bent and he was tugging at his saddle +girths. Apparently the effort brought a deeper shadow to his tan, +"but nothing else can kill me! I have a charm, General," he +exclaimed. + +"We hadn't noticed it," said the general. + +The staff officers, according to regulations, laughed. + +"It's not that kind of a charm," said Chesterton. "Good-by, +General." + +The road was hardly more than a trail, but the moon made it as +light as day, and cast across it black tracings of the swinging +vines and creepers; while high in the air it turned the polished +surface of the palms into glittering silver. As he plunged into +the cool depths of the forest Chesterton threw up his arms and +thanked God that he was moving toward her. The luck that had +accompanied him throughout the campaign had held until the end. +Had he been forced to wait for a transport, each hour would have +meant a month of torment, an arid, wasted place in his life. As it +was, with each eager stride of El Capitan, his little Porto Rican +pony, he was brought closer to her. He was so happy that as he +galloped through the dark shadows of the jungle or out into the +brilliant moonlight he shouted aloud and sang; and again as he +urged El Capitan to greater bursts of speed, he explained in +joyous, breathless phrases why it was that he urged him on. + +"For she is wonderful and most beautiful," he cried, "the most +glorious girl in all the world! And, if I kept her waiting, even +for a moment, El Capitan, I would be unworthy--and I might lose +her! So you see we ride for a great prize!" + +The Spanish column that, the night before, had been driven from +Adhuntas, now in ignorance of peace, occupied both sides of the +valley through which ran the road to Mayaguez, and in ambush by the +road itself had placed an outpost of two men. One was a sharp- +shooter of the picked corps of the Guardia Civile, and one a +sergeant of the regiment that lay hidden in the heights. If the +Americans advanced toward Mayaguez, these men were to wait until +the head of the column drew abreast of them, when they were to +fire. The report of their rifles would be the signal for those in +the hill above to wipe out the memory of Adhuntas. + +Chesterton had been riding at a gallop, but, as he reached the +place where the men lay in ambush, he pulled El Capitan to a walk, +and took advantage of his first breathing spell to light his pipe. +He had already filled it, and was now fumbling in his pocket for +his match-box. The match-box was of wood such as one can buy, +filled to the brim with matches, for one penny. But it was a most +precious possession. In the early days of his interest in Miss +Armitage, as they were once setting forth upon a motor trip, she +had handed it to him. + +"Why," he asked. + +"You always forget to bring any," she said simply, "and have to +borrow some." + +The other men in the car, knowing this to be a just reproof, +laughed sardonically, and at the laugh the girl had looked up in +surprise. Chesterton, seeing the look, understood that her act, +trifling as it was, had been sincere, had been inspired simply by +thought of his comfort. And he asked himself why young Miss +Armitage should consider his comfort, and why the fact that she did +consider it should make him so extremely happy. And he decided it +must be because she loved him and he loved her. + +Having arrived at that conclusion, he had asked her to marry him, +and upon the match-box had marked the date and the hour. Since +then she had given him many pretty presents, marked with her +initials, marked with his crest, with strange cabalistic mottoes +that meant nothing to any one save themselves. But the wooden +matchbox was still the most valued of his possessions. + +As he rode into the valley the rays of the moon fell fully upon +him, and exposed him to the outpost as pitilessly as though he had +been held in the circle of a search-light. + +The bronzed Mausers pushed cautiously through the screen of vines. +There was a pause, and the rifle of the sergeant wavered. When he +spoke his tone was one of disappointment. + +"He is a scout, riding alone," he said. + +"He is an officer," returned the sharp-shooter, excitedly. "The +others follow. We should fire now and give the signal." + +"He is no officer, he is a scout," repeated the sergeant. "They +have sent him ahead to study the trail and to seek us. He may be a +league in advance. If we shoot HIM, we only warn the others." + +Chesterton was within fifty yards. After an excited and anxious +search he had found the match-box in the wrong pocket. The eyes of +the sharp-shooter frowned along the barrel of his rifle. With his +chin pressed against the stock he whispered swiftly from the corner +of his lips, "He is an officer! I am aiming where the strap +crosses his heart. You aim at his belt. We fire together." + +The heat of the tropic night and the strenuous gallop had covered +El Capitan with a lather of sweat. The reins upon his neck dripped +with it. The gauntlets with which Chesterton held them were wet. +As he raised the matchbox it slipped from his fingers and fell +noiselessly in the trail. With an exclamation he dropped to the +road and to his knees, and groping in the dust began an eager +search. + +The sergeant caught at the rifle of the sharpshooter, and pressed +it down. + +"Look!" he whispered. "He IS a scout. He is searching the trail +for the tracks of our ponies. If you fire they will hear it a +league away." + +"But if he finds our trail and returns--" + +The sergeant shook his head. "I let him pass forward," he said +grimly. "He will never return." + +Chesterton pounced upon the half-buried matchbox, and in a panic +lest he might again lose it, thrust it inside his tunic. + +"Little do you know, El Capitan," he exclaimed breathlessly, as he +scrambled back into the saddle and lifted the pony into a gallop, +"what a narrow escape I had. I almost lost it." + +Toward midnight they came to a wooden bridge swinging above a +ravine in which a mountain stream, forty feet below, splashed over +half-hidden rocks, and the stepping stones of the ford. Even +before the campaign began the bridge had outlived its usefulness, +and the unwonted burden of artillery, and the vibrations of +marching men had so shaken it that it swayed like a house of cards. +Threatened by its own weight, at the mercy of the first tropic +storm, it hung a death trap for the one who first added to its +burden. + +No sooner had El Capitan struck it squarely with his four hoofs, +than he reared and, whirling, sprang back to the solid earth. The +suddenness of his retreat had all but thrown Chesterton, but he +regained his seat, and digging the pony roughly with his spurs, +pulled his head again toward the bridge. + +"What are you shying at, now?" he panted. "That's a perfectly good +bridge." + +For a minute horse and man struggled for the mastery, the horse +spinning in short circles, the man pulling, tugging, urging him +with knees and spurs. The first round ended in a draw. There were +two more rounds with the advantage slightly in favor of El Capitan, +for he did not approach the bridge. + +The night was warm and the exertion violent. Chesterton, puzzled +and annoyed, paused to regain his breath and his temper. Below +him, in the ravine, the shallow waters of the ford called to him, +suggesting a pleasant compromise. He turned his eyes downward and +saw hanging over the water what appeared to be a white bird upon +the lower limb of a dead tree. He knew it to be an orchid, an +especially rare orchid, and he knew, also, that the orchid was the +favorite flower of Miss Armitage. In a moment he was on his feet, +and with the reins over his arm, was slipping down the bank, +dragging El Capitan behind him. He ripped from the dead tree the +bark to which the orchid was clinging, and with wet moss and grass +packed it in his leather camera case. The camera he abandoned on +the path. He always could buy another camera; he could not again +carry a white orchid, plucked in the heart of the tropics on the +night peace was declared, to the girl he left behind him. Followed +by El Capitan, nosing and snuffing gratefully at the cool waters, +he waded the ford, and with his camera case swinging from his +shoulder, galloped up the opposite bank and back into the trail. + +A minute later, the bridge, unable to recover from the death blow +struck by El Capitan, went whirling into the ravine and was broken +upon the rocks below. Hearing the crash behind him, Chesterton +guessed that in the jungle a tree had fallen. + +They had started at six in the afternoon and had covered twenty of +the forty miles that lay between Adhuntas and Mayaguez, when, just +at the outskirts of the tiny village of Caguan, El Capitan +stumbled, and when he arose painfully, he again fell forward. + +Caguan was a little church, a little vine-covered inn, a dozen one- +story adobe houses shining in the moonlight like whitewashed +sepulchres. They faced a grass-grown plaza, in the centre of which +stood a great wooden cross. At one corner of the village was a +corral, and in it many ponies. At the sight Chesterton gave a cry +of relief. A light showed through the closed shutters of the inn, +and when he beat with his whip upon the door, from the adobe houses +other lights shone, and white-clad figures appeared in the +moonlight. The landlord of the inn was a Spaniard, fat and +prosperous-looking, but for the moment his face was eloquent with +such distress and misery that the heart of the young man, who was +at peace with all the world, went instantly out to him. The +Spaniard was less sympathetic. When he saw the khaki suit and the +campaign hat he scowled, and ungraciously would have closed the +door. Chesterton, apologizing, pushed it open. His pony, he +explained, had gone lame, and he must have another, and at once. +The landlord shrugged his shoulders. These were war times, he +said, and the American officer could take what he liked. They in +Caguan were noncombatants and could not protest. Chesterton +hastened to reassure him. The war, he announced, was over, and +were it not, he was no officer to issue requisitions. He intended +to pay for the pony. He unbuckled his belt and poured upon the +table a handful of Spanish doubloons. The landlord lowered the +candle and silently counted the gold pieces, and then calling to +him two of his fellow-villagers, crossed the tiny plaza and entered +the corral. + +"The American pig," he whispered, "wishes to buy a pony. He tells +me the war is over; that Spain has surrendered. We know that must +be a lie. It is more probable he is a deserter. He claims he is a +civilian, but that also is a lie, for he is in uniform. You, Paul, +sell him your pony, and then wait for him at the first turn in the +trail, and take it from him." + +"He is armed," protested the one called Paul. + +"You must not give him time to draw his revolver," ordered the +landlord. "You and Pedro will shoot him from the shadow. He is +our country's enemy, and it will be in a good cause. And he may +carry despatches. If we take them to the commandante at Mayaguez +he will reward us." + +"And the gold pieces?" demanded the one called Paul. + +"We will divide them in three parts," said the landlord. + +In the front of the inn, surrounded by a ghostlike group that spoke +its suspicions, Chesterton was lifting his saddle from El Capitan +and rubbing the lame foreleg. It was not a serious sprain. A week +would set it right, but for that night the pony was useless. +Impatiently, Chesterton called across the plaza, begging the +landlord to make haste. He was eager to be gone, alarmed and +fearful lest even this slight delay should cause him to miss the +transport. The thought was intolerable. But he was also acutely +conscious that he was very hungry, and he was too old a campaigner +to scoff at hunger. With the hope that he could find something to +carry with him and eat as he rode forward, he entered the inn. + +The main room of the house was now in darkness, but a smaller room +adjoining it was lit by candles, and by a tiny taper floating +before a crucifix. In the light of the candles Chesterton made out +a bed, a priest bending over it, a woman kneeling beside it, and +upon the bed the little figure of a boy who tossed and moaned. As +Chesterton halted and waited hesitating, the priest strode past +him, and in a voice dull and flat with grief and weariness, ordered +those at the door to bring the landlord quickly. As one of the +group leaped toward the corral, the priest said to the others: +"There is another attack. I have lost hope." + +Chesterton advanced and asked if he could be of service. The +priest shook his head. The child, he said, was the only son of the +landlord, and much beloved by him, and by all the village. He was +now in the third week of typhoid fever and the period of +hemorrhages. Unless they could be checked, the boy would die, and +the priest, who for many miles of mountain and forest was also the +only doctor, had exhausted his store of simple medicines. + +"Nothing can stop the hemorrhage," he protested wearily, "but the +strongest of drugs. And I have nothing!" + +Chesterton bethought him of the medicine case Miss Armitage had +forced upon him. "I have given opium to the men for dysentery," he +said. "Would opium help you?" + +The priest sprang at him and pushed him out of the door and toward +the saddle-bags. + +"My children," he cried, to the silent group in the plaza, "God has +sent a miracle!" + +After an hour at the bedside the priest said, "He will live," and +knelt, and the mother of the boy and the villagers knelt with him. +When Chesterton raised his eyes, he found that the landlord, who +had been silently watching while the two men struggled with death +for the life of his son, had disappeared. But he heard, leaving +the village along the trail to Mayaguez, the sudden clatter of a +pony's hoofs. It moved like a thing driven with fear. + +The priest strode out into the moonlight. In the recovery of the +child he saw only a demonstration of the efficacy of prayer, and he +could not too quickly bring home the lesson to his parishioners. +Amid their murmurs of wonder and gratitude Chesterton rode away. +To the kindly care of the priest he bequeathed El Capitan. With +him, also, he left the gold pieces which were to pay for the fresh +pony. + +A quarter of a mile outside the village three white figures +confronted him. Two who stood apart in the shadow shrank from +observation, but the landlord, seated bareback upon a pony that +from some late exertion was breathing heavily, called to him to +halt. + +"In the fashion of my country," he began grandiloquently, "we have +come this far to wish you God speed upon your journey." In the +fashion of the American he seized Chesterton by the hand. "I thank +you, senor," he murmured. + +"Not me," returned Chesterton. "But the one who made me 'pack' +that medicine chest. Thank her, for to-night I think it saved a +life." + +The Spaniard regarded him curiously, fixing him with his eyes as +though deep in consideration. At last he smiled gravely. + +"You are right," he said. "Let us both remember her in our +prayers." + +As Chesterton rode away the words remained gratefully in his memory +and filled him with pleasant thoughts. "The world," he mused, "is +full of just such kind and gentle souls." + + +After an interminable delay he reached Newport, and they escaped +from the others, and Miss Armitage and he ran down the lawn to the +rocks, and stood with the waves whispering at their feet. + +It was the moment for which each had so often longed, with which +both had so often tortured themselves by living in imagination, +that now, that it was theirs, they were fearful it might not be +true. + +Finally, he said: "And the charm never failed! Indeed, it was +wonderful! It stood by me so obviously. For instance, the night +before San Juan, in the mill at El Poso, I slept on the same poncho +with another correspondent. I woke up with a raging appetite for +bacon and coffee, and he woke up out of his mind, and with a +temperature of one hundred and four. And again, I was standing by +Capron's gun at El Caney, when a shell took the three men who +served it, and only scared ME. And there was another time--" He +stopped. "Anyway," he laughed, "here I am." + +"But there was one night, one awful night," began the girl. She +trembled, and he made this an added excuse for drawing her closer +to him. "When I felt you were in great peril, that you would +surely die. And all through the night I knelt by the window and +looked toward Cuba and prayed, and prayed to God to let you live." + +Chesterton bent his head and kissed the tips of her fingers. After +a moment he said: "Would you know what night it was? It might be +curious if I had been--" + +"Would I know!" cried the girl. "It was eight days ago. The night +of the twelfth. An awful night!" + +"The twelfth!" exclaimed Chesterton, and laughed and then begged +her pardon humbly. "I laughed because the twelfth," he exclaimed, +"was the night peace was declared. The war was over. I'm sorry, +but THAT night I was riding toward you, thinking only of you. I +was never for a moment in danger." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext A Charmed Life by Richard Harding Davis + |