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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23555-0.txt b/23555-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..910ea97 --- /dev/null +++ b/23555-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,969 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Guidon, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +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 Lost Guidon + 1911 + +Author: Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +Release Date: November 19, 2007 [EBook #23555] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE LOST GUIDON + +By Charles Egbert Craddock + +1911 + + +Night came early. It might well seem that day had fled affrighted. The +heavy masses of clouds, glooming low, which had gathered thicker and +thicker, as if crowding to witness the catastrophe, had finally shaken +asunder in the concussions of the air at the discharges of artillery, +and now the direful rain, always sequence of the shock of battle, was +steadily falling, falling, on the stricken field. Many a soldier who +might have survived his wounds would succumb to exposure to the elements +during the night, debarred the tardy succor that must needs await his +turn. One of the surgeons at their hasty work at the field hospital, +under the shelter of the cliffs on the slope, paused to note the presage +of doom and death, and to draw a long breath before he adjusted himself +anew to the grim duties of the scalpel in his hand. His face was set and +haggard, less with a realization of the significance of the scene--for +he was used to its recurrence--than simply with a physical reflection of +horror, as if it were glassed in a mirror. A phenomenon that had earlier +caught his attention in the landscape appealed again to his notice, +perhaps because the symptom was not in his line. + +“Looks like a case of dementia,” he observed to the senior surgeon, +standing near at hand. + +The superior officer adjusted his field-glass. “Looks like 'Death on the +White Horse'!” he responded. + +Down the highway, at a slow pace, rode a cavalryman wearing a gray +uniform, with a sergeant's chevrons, and mounted on a steed good in his +day, but whose day was gone. A great clot of blood had gathered on his +broad white chest, where a bayonet had thrust him deep. Despite his +exhaustion, he moved forward at the urgency of his rider's heel and +hand. The soldier held a long, heavy staff planted on one stirrup, +from the top of which drooped in the dull air the once gay guidon, +battle-rent and sodden with rain, and as he went he shouted at +intervals, “Dovinger's Bangers! Rally on the guidon!” Now and again +his strident boyish voice varied the appeal, “Hyar's yer Dov-inger's +Rangers! Bally, boys! Rally on the reserve!” + +Indeed, despite his stalwart, tall, broad-shouldered frame, he was +scarcely more than a boy. His bare head had flaxen curls like a child's; +his pallid, though sunburned face was broad and soft and beardless; his +large blue eyes were languid and spiritless, though now and then as he +turned an intent gaze over the field they flared anew with hope, as if +he expected to see rise up from that desolate expanse, from among the +stiffening carcasses of horses and the stark corpses of the troopers, +that gallant squadron wont to follow, so dashing and debonair, wherever +the guidons might mark the way. But there was naught astir save the +darkness slipping down by slow degrees--and perchance under its cloak, +already stealthily afoot, the ghoulish robbers of the dead that haunt +the track of battle. They were the human forerunners of the vulture +breed, with even a keener scent for prey, for as yet the feathered +carrion-seekers held aloof; two or three only were descried from the +field hospital, perched on the boughs of a dead tree near the river, +presently joined by another, its splendid sustained flight impeded +somewhat by the rain, battling with its big, strong wings against the +downpour of the torrents and the heavy air. + +And still through all echoed the cry, “Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's +Rangers! Rally on the reserve!” + +The bridge that crossed the river, which was running full and foaming, +had been burnt; but a span, charred and broken, still swung from the +central pier. Over toward the dun-tinted west a house was blazing, fired +by some stray bomb, perhaps, or by official design, to hinder the enemy +from utilizing the shelter, and its red rage of destruction bepainted +the clouds that hung so low above the chimneys and dormer-windows. To +the east, the woods on the steeps had been shelled, and a myriad boughs +and boles riven and rent, lay in fantastic confusion. Through the +mournful chaos the wind had begun to sweep; it sounded in unison with +the battle clamors, and shrieked and wailed and roared as it surged +adown the defiles. Now and then there came on the blast the fusillade +of dropping shots from the south, where the skirmish line of one +faction engaged the rear-guard of the other, or the pickets fell within +rifle-range. Once the sullen, melancholy boom of distant cannon shook +the clouds, and then was still, and ever and again sounded that tireless +cry, “Dovinger's Rangers. Hyar's yer guidon! Rally, boys! Rally on the +guidon! Rally on the reserve!” + +The senior surgeon, as the road wound near, stepped down toward it +when the horseman, still holding himself proudly erect, passed by. +“Sergeant,” he hailed the guidon, “where is Captain Dovinger?” + +The hand mechanically went to the boy's forehead in the usual military +salute. “Killed, sir.” + +“Where are the other officers of the squadron--the junior captain, the +lieutenants?” + +“Killed, sir.” + +“What has become of the troopers?” + +“Killed, sir, in the last charge.” + +There was a pause. Then Dr. Trent broke forth: “Are you a fool, boy? If +your command is annihilated, why do you keep up this commotion?” + +The young fellow looked blank for a moment. Then, as if he had not +reasoned on the catastrophe: “I thought at first they monght be +scattered--some of 'em. But ef--ef--they _war_ dead, but could once +_see_ the guidon, sure 't would call 'em to life. They _couldn't_ be +so dead but they would rally to the guidon! Guide right!” he shouted +suddenly. “Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the guidon, boys! Rally on the +reserve!” + +It was a time that hardened men's hearts. The young soldier had no +physical hurt that might appeal to the professional sympathies of the +senior surgeon, and he turned away with a half laugh. “Let him go +along! He can't rally Dovinger's Rangers this side of the river Styx, it +seems.” + +But an old chaplain who had been hovering about the field hospital, +whispering a word here and there to stimulate the fortitude of the +wounded and solace the fears of the dying, recognized moral symptoms +alien to any diagnosis of which the senior surgeon was capable. The +latter did not deplore the diversion of interest, for the old man's +presence was not highly esteemed by the hospital corps at this scene of +hasty and terrible work, although, having taken a course in medicine in +early life, he was permitted to aid in certain ways. But the surgeons +were wont to declare that the men began to bleat at the very sight of +the chaplain. So gentle, so sympathetic, so paternal, was he that they +made the more of their wretched woes, seeing them so deeply deplored. +The senior surgeon, moreover, was not an ardent religionist. “This is no +time for a revival, Mr. Whitmel,” he would insist. “Jack, there, never +spoke the name of God in his life, except to swear by it. He is too late +for prayers, and if _I_ can't pull him through, he is a goner!” But the +chaplain was fond of quoting: + + “Between the stirrup and the ground + He mercy sought and mercy found----” + +and sometimes the scene was irreverently called a “love feast” when +some hard-riding, hard-swearing, hard-fighting, unthinking sinner went +joyfully out of this world from the fatherly arms of the chaplain into +the paternal embrace of an eternal and merciful Father, as the man of +God firmly believed. + +He stood now, staring after the guidon borne through the rain and the +mist, flaunting red as the last leaves of autumn against the dun-tinted +dusk, that the dead might view the gallant and honored pennant and rise +again to its leading! + +No one followed but the tall, thin figure of the gaunt old chaplain, +unless indeed the trooping shadows that kept him company had +mysteriously roused at the stirring summons. Lanterns were now visible, +dimly flickering in one quarter where the fighting had been furious and +the slain lay six deep on the ground. Their aspirations, their valor, +their patriotism, had all exhaled--volatile essences, these incomparable +values!--and now their bodies, weighted with death, cumbered the earth. +They must be hurried out of sight, out of remembrance soon, and the +burial parties were urged to diligence at the trenches where these +cast-off semblances were to lie undistinguished together. And still the +reflection of the burning house reddened the gloomy west, and still the +cry, “Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's Rangers!” smote the thick air. + +Suddenly it was silent. The white horse that had been visible in the +flare from the flaming house, now and again flung athwart the landscape, +no longer loomed in the vista of the shadowy road. He had given way at +last, sinking down with that martial figure still in the saddle, and, +with no struggle save a mere galvanic shiver, passing away from the +scene of his faithful devoirs. + +Fatigue, agitation, anguish, his agonized obsession of the possibility +of rallying the squadron, had served to prostrate the soldier's physical +powers of resistance. He could not constrain his muscles to rise from +the recumbent position against the carcass. He started up, then sank +back, and in another moment triumphant nature conquered, and he was +asleep--a dull, dreamless sleep of absolute exhaustion, that perchance +rescued his reason as well as saved his life. + +The old chaplain was a man of infinite prejudice, steeped in all the +infirmities and fantasies of dogma; a lover of harmony, and essentially +an apostle of peace. Nevertheless, it would not have been physically +safe to call him a Jesuit. But indeed he scarcely hesitated; he stepped +over the great inert bulk of the dead horse, unclenched the muscular +grasp of the soldier, as if it had been a baby's clasp, slipped the +staff, technically the lance, of the guidon from its socket, and stood +with it in his own hand, looking suspiciously to and fro to descry if +perchance he were observed. The coast clear, he turned to the wall +of rock beside the road, for this was near the mountain sandstone +formation, fissured, splintered, with the erosions of water and weather; +and into one of the cellular, tunnel-like apertures he ran the guidon, +lance and all,--lost forever from human sight. + +In those days one might speak indeed of the march of events. Each seemed +hard on the heels of its precursor. Change ran riot in the ordering of +the world, and its aspect was utterly transformed when Casper Girard, +no longer bearing the guidon of Dovinger's Rangers, came out of the war +with a captain's shoulder-straps, won by personal fitness often proved, +the habit of command, and a great and growing opinion of himself. He was +a changeling, so to speak. No longer he felt a native of the mountain +cove where he had been born and reared. He had had a glimpse of +the world from a different standpoint, and it lured him. A dreary, +disaffected life he led for a time. + +“'Minds me of a wild tur-r-key in a trap,” his mother was wont to +comment. “Always stretchin' his neck an' lookin' up an' away--when +he mought git out by looking down.” And the simile was so apt that it +stayed in his mind--looking up and away! + +Of all dull inventions, in his estimation the art of printing exceeded. +He had made but indifferent progress in education during his early +youth; he was a slow and inexpert reader, and a writer whose chirography +shrank from exhibition. Now, however, a book in the hand gave him a +cherished sentiment of touch with the larger world beyond those blue +ranges that limited his sphere, and he spent much time in sedulously +reading certain volumes which he had brought home with him. + +“Spent _money_ fur 'em!” his mother would ejaculate, contemplating this +extreme audacity of extravagance. + +As she often observed, “the plough-handles seemed red-hot,” and as soon +as political conditions favored he ran for office. On the strength of +his war record, a potent lever in those days, he was elected register +of the county. True, there was only a population of about fifty souls +in the county town, and the houses were log-cabins, except the temple +of justice itself, which was a two-story frame building. But his success +was a step on the road to political preferment, and his ambitious eyes +were on the future. Into the midst of his quiet incumbency as register +came Fate, all intrusive, and found him through the infrequent medium of +a weekly mail. It was at the beginning of the retrospective enthusiasm +that has served to revive the memories of the War, and he received a +letter from an old comrade-in-arms, giving the details of a brigade +reunion shortly to be held at no great distance, and, being of the +committee, inviting him to be present. + +Girard had participated in great military crises; he had marshalled his +troop in line of battle; as a mere boy, he had ridden with the guidon +lance planted on his stirrup, with the pennant flying above his head, +as the marker to lead the fierce and famous Dov-inger Rangers into the +thickest of the fight; yet he had never felt such palpitant tremors +of excitement as when he stood on the hotel piazza of the New Helvetia +Springs, where the banqueters had gathered, and suffered the ordeal of +introduction to sundry groups of fashionable ladies. He had earlier seen +specimens of the species in the course of military transitions through +the cities of the lowlands, and he watched them narrowly to detect +if they discerned perchance a difference between him and the men of +education and social station with whom his advancement in the army +had associated him. He did not reflect that they were too well-bred +to reveal any appreciation of such incongruity, but he had never +experienced a more ardent glow of gratification than upon overhearing a +friend's remark: “Girard is great! Anybody would imagine he was used to +all this!” + +No strategist was ever more wary. He would not undertake to dance, for +he readily perceived that the gyrations in the ball-room were utterly +dissimilar to the clumsy capering to which he had been accustomed on the +puncheon floor of a mountain cabin. He had the less reason for +regret since he was privileged instead to stroll up and down the +veranda,--“promenade” was the technical term,--a slender hand, +delicately gloved, on the sleeve of his gray uniform, the old +regimentals being _de rigueur_ at these reunions. A white ball-gown, +such as he had never before seen, fashioned of tissue over lustrous +white silk, swayed in diaphanous folds against him, for these were the +days of voluminous draperies; a head of auburn hair elaborately dressed +gleamed in the moonlight near his shoulder. Miss Alicia Duval thought +him tremendously handsome; she adored his record, as she would have +said--unaware how little of it she knew--and she did not so much intend +to flirt as to draw him out, for there was something about him different +from the men of her set, and it stimulated her interest. + +“Isn't the moon heavenly!” she observed, gazing at the brilliant orb, +now near the full, swinging in the sky, which became a definite blue in +its light above the massive dark mountains and the misty valley below; +for the building was as near the brink as safety permitted--nearer, the +cautious opined. + +“Heavenly? Not more'n it's got a right to be. It's a heavenly body, +ain't it?” he rejoined. + +“Oh, how sarcastic!” she exclaimed. “In what school did you acquire your +trenchant style?” + +He thought of the tiny district school where he had acquired the very +little he knew of aught, and said nothing, laughing constrainedly in +lieu of response. + +The music of the orchestra came, to them from the ball-room, and the +rhythmic beat of dancing feet; the wind lifted her hair gently and +brought to them the fragrance of flowering plants and the pungent +aroma of mint down in the depths of the ravine hard by, where lurked +a chalybeate spring; but for the noisy rout of the dance, and now and +again the flimsy chatter of a passing couple on the piazza, promenading +like themselves, they might have heard the waters of the fountain +rise and bubble and break and sigh as the pulsating impulse beat like +heart-throbs, and perchance on its rocky marge an oread a-singing. + +“But you don't answer me,” she pouted with an affectation of +pettishness. “Do you know that you trouble yourself to talk very little, +Captain Girard!” + +“I think the more,” he declared. + +“Think? Oh, dear me! I didn't know that anybody does anything so +unfashionable nowadays as to _think!_ And what do you think about, +pray?” + +“About you!” + +And that began it: he was a gallant man, and he had been a brave one. He +was not aware how far he was going on so short an acquaintance, but +his temerity was not displeasing to the lady. She liked his manner of +storming the citadel, and she did not realize that he merely spoke at +random, as best he might. He was in his uniform a splendid and martial +presentment of military youth, and indeed he was much the junior of his +compeers. + +“Who are Captain Girard's people, Papa?” she asked Colonel Duval next +morning, as the family party sat at breakfast in quasi seclusion at +one of the small round tables in the crowded dining-room, full of the +chatter of people and the clatter of dishes. + +“Girard?” Colonel Duval repeated thoughtfully. “I really don't know. I +have an impression they live somewhere in East Tennessee. I never met +him till just about the end of the war.” + +“Oh, Papa! How unsatisfactory you are! You never know anything about +anybody.” + +“I should think his people must be very plain,” said Mrs. Duval. Her +social discrimination was extremely acute and in constant practice. + +“I don't know why. He is very much of a gentleman,” the Colonel +contended. His heart was warm to-day with much fraternizing, and it was +not kind to brush the bloom off his peach. + +“Oh, trifles suggest the fact. He is not at all _au fait_.” + +He was, however, experienced in ways of the world unimagined in her +philosophy. The reunion had drawn to a close, ending in a flare of +jollity and tender reminiscence and good-fellowship. The old soldiers +were all gone save a few regular patrons of the hotel, who with their +families were completing their summer sojourn. Captain Girard lingered, +too, fascinated by this glimpse of the frivolous world, hitherto +unimagined, rather than by the incense to his vanity offered by his +facile acceptance as a squire of dames. For the first time in his life +he felt the grinding lack of money. Being a man of resource, he set +about swiftly supplying this need. In the dull days of inaction, when +the armies lay supine and only occasionally the monotony was broken by +the engagement of distant skirmishers or a picket line was driven in on +the main body, he had learned to play a game at cards much in vogue +at that period, though for no greater hazards than grains of corn or +Confederate money, almost as worthless. In the realization now that the +same principles held good with stakes of value, he seemed to enter upon +the possession of a veritable gold mine. The peculiar traits that his +one unique experience of the world had developed--his coolness, his +courage, his discernment of strategic resources--stood him in good +stead, and long after the microcosm of the hotel lay fast asleep the +cards were dealt and play ran high in the little building called the +casino, ostensibly devoted to the milder delights of billiards and +cigars. + +Either luck favored him or he had rare discrimination of relative +chances in the run of the cards, or the phenomenally bold hand he played +disconcerted his adversaries, but his almost invariable winning began +to affect injuriously his character. Indeed, he was said to be a rook +of unrivalled rapacity. Colonel Duval was in the frame of mind that his +wife called “bearish” one morning as his family gathered for breakfast +in the limited privacy of their circle about the round table in the +dining-room. + +“I want you to avoid that fellow, Alicia,” he growled _sotto voce_, as +he intercepted a bright matutinal smile that the fair Alicia sent as a +morning greeting to Girard, who had just entered and taken his seat at a +distance. “We know nothing under heaven about his people, and he himself +has the repute of being a desperate gambler.” + +His wife raised significant eyebrows. “If that is true, why should he +stay in this quiet place?” + +Colonel Duval experienced a momentary embarrassment. “Oh, the place is +right enough. He stays, no doubt, because he likes it. You might as well +ask why old Mr. Whitmel stays here.” + +“The idea of mentioning a clergyman in this connection!” + +“Mr. Whitmel is professionally busy,” cried Alicia. “He told me that he +is studying 'the disintegration of a soul.' I hope it is not _my_ soul.” + +The phrase probably interested Alicia in her idleness, for she was +certainly actuated by no view of a moral uplift in the character of +Girard, the handsome gambler. She did not recognize a subtle cruelty in +her system of universal fascination, but her vanity demanded constant +tribute, and she was peculiarly absorbed in the effort to bring to her +feet this man of iron, her knight in armor, as she was wont to call him, +to control him with her influence, to bend this unmalleable material +like the proverbial wax in her hands. She had great faith in the +coercive power of her hazel eyes, and she brought their batteries to +bear on Girard on the first occasion when she had him at her mercy. + +“I have heard something about you which is very painful,” she said one +day as they sat together beside the chalybeate spring. The crag, all +discolored in rust-red streaks by the dripping of the mineral water +through its interstices, towered above their heads; the ferns, exquisite +and of subtle fragrance, tufted the niches; the trees were close about +them, and below, on the precipitous slope; sometimes the lush green +boughs parted, revealing a distant landscape of azure ranges, far +stretching against a sky as blue, and in the valley of the foreground +long bars of golden hue, where fields, denuded of the harvested wheat, +took the sun. Girard lounged, languid, taciturn, and quiescent as ever, +on the opposite side of the circular rock basin wherein the clear water +fell. + +“I will tell you what it is,” Alicia went on, after a pause, for, though +he looked attentive, he gave not even a glance of question. “I hear that +you gamble.” + +His gaze concentrated as he knitted his brows, but he said nothing. + +She pulled her broad straw hat forward on her auburn hair and readjusted +the flounces of her white morning dress, saying while thus engaged, +“Yes, indeed; that you gamble--like--like fury!” + +“Why, don't you know that's against the law?” he demanded unexpectedly. + +“I know that it is very wrong and sinful,” she said solemnly. + +“Thanky. I'll put that in my pipe an' smoke it! I'm very wrong and +sinful, I am given to understand.” + +“Why, I didn't mean _you_ so much,” she faltered, perturbed by this +sudden charge of the enemy. “I meant the practice.” + +“Oh, I know that I'm a sinner in more ways 'n one; but I _didn't_ know +that you were a lady-preacher.” + +“You mean that it is none of my business----” + +“You ought to be so glad of that,” he retorted. + +She maintained a silence that might have suggested a degree of offended +pride, and she was truly humiliated that her vaunted hazel eyes had +so signally failed to work their wonted charm. As they strolled back +together up the steep path to the hotel he seemed either unobservant +or uncaring, so impassive were his manners, and she was aware that her +demonstration had resulted in giving him information which he could +not otherwise have gained. Later, she was nettled to notice that he had +utilized it in prosaic fashion, for that night no lights flared late +from the casino. + +The gamesters, informed that rumors were a-wing, had betaken themselves +elsewhere. A small smoking-room in the hotel proper seemed less +obnoxious to suspicion in the depleted condition of the guest-list, +since autumn was now approaching. After eleven o'clock the coterie would +scarcely be subject to interruption, and there they gathered as the hour +waxed late. The cards were duly dealt, the draw was on, when suddenly +the door opened and old Mr. Whitmel, his favorite meerschaum in his +hand and a sheaf of newly arrived journals, entered with the evident +intention of a prolonged stay. A “standpatter” seemed hardly so assured +as before he encountered the dim, surprised gaze, but the old clergyman +was esteemed a good sort, and he ventured on a reminder: + +“You have been here before, haven't you, Mr. Whitmel? Saw a deal of this +sort of thing in the army!” And he rattled the chips significantly. + +“Used to see that sort of thing in the army? Yes, yes, indeed--more than +I wanted to see--very much more!” + +Colonel Duval took schooling much amiss. He turned up his florid face +with its auburn mustachios and Burnside whiskers from its bending +over the cards and showed a broad arch of glittering white teeth in an +ungenial laugh. + +“Remember, Mr. Whitmel, at that fight we had in the hills not far from +the Ocoee, how you rebuked two artillerymen for swearing? Something was +wrong with the vent-hole of the piece, and one of the gunners asked what +business you had with their language; and you said, 'I am a minister of +the Lord,' and the fellow gave it back very patly, 'I ain't carin' ef +you was a minister of state!' Then you said, 'No, you would doubtless +swear in the presence of an angel.' And the fellow with the sponge-staff +declared, 'Say, Mister, ef you are _that_, you are an angel off your +feed certain'--you were worn to skin and bone then--'an' the rations of +manna must be ez skimpy in heaven ez the rations o' bacon down here in +Dixie.' Ha, ha, ha!” + +Mr. Whitmel had taken a seat in an easy-chair; he had struck a match and +was composedly kindling his pipe. “I felt nearer a higher communion that +day than often since,” he said. + +The coterie of gentlemen looked at one another in disconsolate +uncertainty, and one turned his cards face downward and laid them +resignedly on the table. The party was evidently in for one of the old +chaplain's long stories, with a few words by way of application, and +there was no decent opportunity to demur. They were the intruders in the +smoking-room--not he! Here with his pipe and his paper, he was within +the accommodation assigned him. They must hie them back to the casino to +be at ease, and this would they do when he should reach the end of his +story--if indeed it had an end. + +For with the prolixity of the eye-witness he was detailing the points of +the battle; what troops were engaged; how the flank was turned; how +the reserve was delayed; how the guns were planted; how the cavalry was +ordered to charge over impracticable ground, and how in consequence he +saw a squadron literally annihilated; how for hours after the fight +was over a sergeant of the Dovinger Rangers pervaded the field with the +guidon, calling on them by name to rally. + +“And, gentlemen,” he continued, turning in his chair, the fire kindling +in his eyes as it died in the bowl of his pipe, “not one man responded, +for none could rise from that horrid slaughter.” + +There was a moment of tense silence. Then, “Back and forth the guidon +flaunted, and the rain began to fall, and the night came on, and still +the dusk echoed the cry, 'Guide right! Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the +guidon! Rally on the reserve!'” + +The old chaplain stuck his pipe into his mouth and brought it aflare +again with two or three strong indrawing respirations. + +“The surgeons said it would end in a case of dementia. I was sorry, for +I had seen much that day that hurt me, and more than all was this. For +I could picture that valiant young spirit going through life, spared by +God's mercy; and it seemed to me that when the enemy, in whatever guise, +should press him hard and defeat should bear him down he would have the +courage and the ardor and the moral strength to rally on the reserve. He +would rally on the guidon.” + +The old chaplain pulled strongly at his pipe, setting the blue wreaths +of smoke circling about his head. “I should know that young fellow again +wherever I might chance to see him.” + +“Did he collapse at last and verify the surgeon's prophecy!” asked the +dealer. + +“Well,” drawled the chaplain, with a little flattered laugh, “I myself +took care of that Many years ago I studied medicine, before I was +favored with a higher call. Neurology was my line. When the boy's horse +sank exhausted beneath him, and he fell into a sleep or stupor on +the carcass, I removed the object of the obsession. I slipped the +flag-staff, guidon and all, into a crevice of the rocks, where it will +remain till the end of our time, be sure.” He laughed in relish of his +arbitrary intervention. + +“There was a fine healthy clamor in camp the next morning about the lost +guidon. But I did the soldier no damage, for he had been promoted to a +lieutenancy for special gallantry on the field, and he therefore could +no longer have carried the guidon if he had had both the flag and the +troop.” + +The stories of camp and field, thus begun, swiftly multiplied; they wore +the fire to embers, and the oil sank low in the lamps. There was a chill +sense of dawn in the blue-gray mist when the group, separating at last, +issued upon the veranda; the moon, so long hovering over the sombre +massive mountains, was slowly sinking in the west. + +Among the shadows of the pillars a tall, martial figure lurked in ambush +for the old chaplain, as he rounded the corner of the veranda on his way +to his own quarters. + +“Pa'son,” a husky voice spoke from out the dim comminglement of the +mist and the moon, “'twas me that carried that guidon in Dovinger 's +Bangers.” + +“I know it,” declared the triumphant tactician. “_I_ recognized you as +soon as I saw you again.” + +“I 'm through with this,” the young mountaineer exclaimed abruptly, +with an eloquent gesture of renunciation toward the deserted card-table +visible through the vista of open doors. “I'm going home--to work! I'll +never forget that I was marker in Dovinger's Rangers. I carried the +guidon! And that last day I marked their way to glory! There's nothing +left of them except honor and duty, but I'll rally on that, Chaplain. +Never fear for me, again. I'll rally on the reserve!” + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Guidon, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + +***** This file should be named 23555-0.txt or 23555-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/5/23555/ + +Produced by David Widger + +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. 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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 Lost Guidon + 1911 + +Author: Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +Release Date: November 19, 2007 [EBook #23555] +Last Updated: March 8, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE LOST GUIDON + </h1> + <h2> + By Charles Egbert Craddock <br /> <br /> 1911 + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + Night came early. It might well seem that day had fled affrighted. The + heavy masses of clouds, glooming low, which had gathered thicker and + thicker, as if crowding to witness the catastrophe, had finally shaken + asunder in the concussions of the air at the discharges of artillery, and + now the direful rain, always sequence of the shock of battle, was steadily + falling, falling, on the stricken field. Many a soldier who might have + survived his wounds would succumb to exposure to the elements during the + night, debarred the tardy succor that must needs await his turn. One of + the surgeons at their hasty work at the field hospital, under the shelter + of the cliffs on the slope, paused to note the presage of doom and death, + and to draw a long breath before he adjusted himself anew to the grim + duties of the scalpel in his hand. His face was set and haggard, less with + a realization of the significance of the scene—for he was used to + its recurrence—than simply with a physical reflection of horror, as + if it were glassed in a mirror. A phenomenon that had earlier caught his + attention in the landscape appealed again to his notice, perhaps because + the symptom was not in his line. + </p> + <p> + “Looks like a case of dementia,” he observed to the senior surgeon, + standing near at hand. + </p> + <p> + The superior officer adjusted his field-glass. “Looks like 'Death on the + White Horse'!” he responded. + </p> + <p> + Down the highway, at a slow pace, rode a cavalryman wearing a gray + uniform, with a sergeant's chevrons, and mounted on a steed good in his + day, but whose day was gone. A great clot of blood had gathered on his + broad white chest, where a bayonet had thrust him deep. Despite his + exhaustion, he moved forward at the urgency of his rider's heel and hand. + The soldier held a long, heavy staff planted on one stirrup, from the top + of which drooped in the dull air the once gay guidon, battle-rent and + sodden with rain, and as he went he shouted at intervals, “Dovinger's + Bangers! Rally on the guidon!” Now and again his strident boyish voice + varied the appeal, “Hyar's yer Dov-inger's Rangers! Bally, boys! Rally on + the reserve!” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, despite his stalwart, tall, broad-shouldered frame, he was + scarcely more than a boy. His bare head had flaxen curls like a child's; + his pallid, though sunburned face was broad and soft and beardless; his + large blue eyes were languid and spiritless, though now and then as he + turned an intent gaze over the field they flared anew with hope, as if he + expected to see rise up from that desolate expanse, from among the + stiffening carcasses of horses and the stark corpses of the troopers, that + gallant squadron wont to follow, so dashing and debonair, wherever the + guidons might mark the way. But there was naught astir save the darkness + slipping down by slow degrees—and perchance under its cloak, already + stealthily afoot, the ghoulish robbers of the dead that haunt the track of + battle. They were the human forerunners of the vulture breed, with even a + keener scent for prey, for as yet the feathered carrion-seekers held + aloof; two or three only were descried from the field hospital, perched on + the boughs of a dead tree near the river, presently joined by another, its + splendid sustained flight impeded somewhat by the rain, battling with its + big, strong wings against the downpour of the torrents and the heavy air. + </p> + <p> + And still through all echoed the cry, “Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's + Rangers! Rally on the reserve!” + </p> + <p> + The bridge that crossed the river, which was running full and foaming, had + been burnt; but a span, charred and broken, still swung from the central + pier. Over toward the dun-tinted west a house was blazing, fired by some + stray bomb, perhaps, or by official design, to hinder the enemy from + utilizing the shelter, and its red rage of destruction bepainted the + clouds that hung so low above the chimneys and dormer-windows. To the + east, the woods on the steeps had been shelled, and a myriad boughs and + boles riven and rent, lay in fantastic confusion. Through the mournful + chaos the wind had begun to sweep; it sounded in unison with the battle + clamors, and shrieked and wailed and roared as it surged adown the + defiles. Now and then there came on the blast the fusillade of dropping + shots from the south, where the skirmish line of one faction engaged the + rear-guard of the other, or the pickets fell within rifle-range. Once the + sullen, melancholy boom of distant cannon shook the clouds, and then was + still, and ever and again sounded that tireless cry, “Dovinger's Rangers. + Hyar's yer guidon! Rally, boys! Rally on the guidon! Rally on the + reserve!” + </p> + <p> + The senior surgeon, as the road wound near, stepped down toward it when + the horseman, still holding himself proudly erect, passed by. “Sergeant,” + he hailed the guidon, “where is Captain Dovinger?” + </p> + <p> + The hand mechanically went to the boy's forehead in the usual military + salute. “Killed, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are the other officers of the squadron—the junior captain, + the lieutenants?” + </p> + <p> + “Killed, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What has become of the troopers?” + </p> + <p> + “Killed, sir, in the last charge.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause. Then Dr. Trent broke forth: “Are you a fool, boy? If + your command is annihilated, why do you keep up this commotion?” + </p> + <p> + The young fellow looked blank for a moment. Then, as if he had not + reasoned on the catastrophe: “I thought at first they monght be scattered—some + of 'em. But ef—ef—they <i>war</i> dead, but could once <i>see</i> + the guidon, sure 't would call 'em to life. They <i>couldn't</i> be so + dead but they would rally to the guidon! Guide right!” he shouted + suddenly. “Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the guidon, boys! Rally on the + reserve!” + </p> + <p> + It was a time that hardened men's hearts. The young soldier had no + physical hurt that might appeal to the professional sympathies of the + senior surgeon, and he turned away with a half laugh. “Let him go along! + He can't rally Dovinger's Rangers this side of the river Styx, it seems.” + </p> + <p> + But an old chaplain who had been hovering about the field hospital, + whispering a word here and there to stimulate the fortitude of the wounded + and solace the fears of the dying, recognized moral symptoms alien to any + diagnosis of which the senior surgeon was capable. The latter did not + deplore the diversion of interest, for the old man's presence was not + highly esteemed by the hospital corps at this scene of hasty and terrible + work, although, having taken a course in medicine in early life, he was + permitted to aid in certain ways. But the surgeons were wont to declare + that the men began to bleat at the very sight of the chaplain. So gentle, + so sympathetic, so paternal, was he that they made the more of their + wretched woes, seeing them so deeply deplored. The senior surgeon, + moreover, was not an ardent religionist. “This is no time for a revival, + Mr. Whitmel,” he would insist. “Jack, there, never spoke the name of God + in his life, except to swear by it. He is too late for prayers, and if <i>I</i> + can't pull him through, he is a goner!” But the chaplain was fond of + quoting: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Between the stirrup and the ground + He mercy sought and mercy found——” + </pre> + <p> + and sometimes the scene was irreverently called a “love feast” when some + hard-riding, hard-swearing, hard-fighting, unthinking sinner went joyfully + out of this world from the fatherly arms of the chaplain into the paternal + embrace of an eternal and merciful Father, as the man of God firmly + believed. + </p> + <p> + He stood now, staring after the guidon borne through the rain and the + mist, flaunting red as the last leaves of autumn against the dun-tinted + dusk, that the dead might view the gallant and honored pennant and rise + again to its leading! + </p> + <p> + No one followed but the tall, thin figure of the gaunt old chaplain, + unless indeed the trooping shadows that kept him company had mysteriously + roused at the stirring summons. Lanterns were now visible, dimly + flickering in one quarter where the fighting had been furious and the + slain lay six deep on the ground. Their aspirations, their valor, their + patriotism, had all exhaled—volatile essences, these incomparable + values!—and now their bodies, weighted with death, cumbered the + earth. They must be hurried out of sight, out of remembrance soon, and the + burial parties were urged to diligence at the trenches where these + cast-off semblances were to lie undistinguished together. And still the + reflection of the burning house reddened the gloomy west, and still the + cry, “Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's Rangers!” smote the thick air. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly it was silent. The white horse that had been visible in the flare + from the flaming house, now and again flung athwart the landscape, no + longer loomed in the vista of the shadowy road. He had given way at last, + sinking down with that martial figure still in the saddle, and, with no + struggle save a mere galvanic shiver, passing away from the scene of his + faithful devoirs. + </p> + <p> + Fatigue, agitation, anguish, his agonized obsession of the possibility of + rallying the squadron, had served to prostrate the soldier's physical + powers of resistance. He could not constrain his muscles to rise from the + recumbent position against the carcass. He started up, then sank back, and + in another moment triumphant nature conquered, and he was asleep—a + dull, dreamless sleep of absolute exhaustion, that perchance rescued his + reason as well as saved his life. + </p> + <p> + The old chaplain was a man of infinite prejudice, steeped in all the + infirmities and fantasies of dogma; a lover of harmony, and essentially an + apostle of peace. Nevertheless, it would not have been physically safe to + call him a Jesuit. But indeed he scarcely hesitated; he stepped over the + great inert bulk of the dead horse, unclenched the muscular grasp of the + soldier, as if it had been a baby's clasp, slipped the staff, technically + the lance, of the guidon from its socket, and stood with it in his own + hand, looking suspiciously to and fro to descry if perchance he were + observed. The coast clear, he turned to the wall of rock beside the road, + for this was near the mountain sandstone formation, fissured, splintered, + with the erosions of water and weather; and into one of the cellular, + tunnel-like apertures he ran the guidon, lance and all,—lost forever + from human sight. + </p> + <p> + In those days one might speak indeed of the march of events. Each seemed + hard on the heels of its precursor. Change ran riot in the ordering of the + world, and its aspect was utterly transformed when Casper Girard, no + longer bearing the guidon of Dovinger's Rangers, came out of the war with + a captain's shoulder-straps, won by personal fitness often proved, the + habit of command, and a great and growing opinion of himself. He was a + changeling, so to speak. No longer he felt a native of the mountain cove + where he had been born and reared. He had had a glimpse of the world from + a different standpoint, and it lured him. A dreary, disaffected life he + led for a time. + </p> + <p> + “'Minds me of a wild tur-r-key in a trap,” his mother was wont to comment. + “Always stretchin' his neck an' lookin' up an' away—when he mought + git out by looking down.” And the simile was so apt that it stayed in his + mind—looking up and away! + </p> + <p> + Of all dull inventions, in his estimation the art of printing exceeded. He + had made but indifferent progress in education during his early youth; he + was a slow and inexpert reader, and a writer whose chirography shrank from + exhibition. Now, however, a book in the hand gave him a cherished + sentiment of touch with the larger world beyond those blue ranges that + limited his sphere, and he spent much time in sedulously reading certain + volumes which he had brought home with him. + </p> + <p> + “Spent <i>money</i> fur 'em!” his mother would ejaculate, contemplating + this extreme audacity of extravagance. + </p> + <p> + As she often observed, “the plough-handles seemed red-hot,” and as soon as + political conditions favored he ran for office. On the strength of his war + record, a potent lever in those days, he was elected register of the + county. True, there was only a population of about fifty souls in the + county town, and the houses were log-cabins, except the temple of justice + itself, which was a two-story frame building. But his success was a step + on the road to political preferment, and his ambitious eyes were on the + future. Into the midst of his quiet incumbency as register came Fate, all + intrusive, and found him through the infrequent medium of a weekly mail. + It was at the beginning of the retrospective enthusiasm that has served to + revive the memories of the War, and he received a letter from an old + comrade-in-arms, giving the details of a brigade reunion shortly to be + held at no great distance, and, being of the committee, inviting him to be + present. + </p> + <p> + Girard had participated in great military crises; he had marshalled his + troop in line of battle; as a mere boy, he had ridden with the guidon + lance planted on his stirrup, with the pennant flying above his head, as + the marker to lead the fierce and famous Dov-inger Rangers into the + thickest of the fight; yet he had never felt such palpitant tremors of + excitement as when he stood on the hotel piazza of the New Helvetia + Springs, where the banqueters had gathered, and suffered the ordeal of + introduction to sundry groups of fashionable ladies. He had earlier seen + specimens of the species in the course of military transitions through the + cities of the lowlands, and he watched them narrowly to detect if they + discerned perchance a difference between him and the men of education and + social station with whom his advancement in the army had associated him. + He did not reflect that they were too well-bred to reveal any appreciation + of such incongruity, but he had never experienced a more ardent glow of + gratification than upon overhearing a friend's remark: “Girard is great! + Anybody would imagine he was used to all this!” + </p> + <p> + No strategist was ever more wary. He would not undertake to dance, for he + readily perceived that the gyrations in the ball-room were utterly + dissimilar to the clumsy capering to which he had been accustomed on the + puncheon floor of a mountain cabin. He had the less reason for regret + since he was privileged instead to stroll up and down the veranda,—“promenade” + was the technical term,—a slender hand, delicately gloved, on the + sleeve of his gray uniform, the old regimentals being <i>de rigueur</i> at + these reunions. A white ball-gown, such as he had never before seen, + fashioned of tissue over lustrous white silk, swayed in diaphanous folds + against him, for these were the days of voluminous draperies; a head of + auburn hair elaborately dressed gleamed in the moonlight near his + shoulder. Miss Alicia Duval thought him tremendously handsome; she adored + his record, as she would have said—unaware how little of it she knew—and + she did not so much intend to flirt as to draw him out, for there was + something about him different from the men of her set, and it stimulated + her interest. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't the moon heavenly!” she observed, gazing at the brilliant orb, now + near the full, swinging in the sky, which became a definite blue in its + light above the massive dark mountains and the misty valley below; for the + building was as near the brink as safety permitted—nearer, the + cautious opined. + </p> + <p> + “Heavenly? Not more'n it's got a right to be. It's a heavenly body, ain't + it?” he rejoined. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how sarcastic!” she exclaimed. “In what school did you acquire your + trenchant style?” + </p> + <p> + He thought of the tiny district school where he had acquired the very + little he knew of aught, and said nothing, laughing constrainedly in lieu + of response. + </p> + <p> + The music of the orchestra came, to them from the ball-room, and the + rhythmic beat of dancing feet; the wind lifted her hair gently and brought + to them the fragrance of flowering plants and the pungent aroma of mint + down in the depths of the ravine hard by, where lurked a chalybeate + spring; but for the noisy rout of the dance, and now and again the flimsy + chatter of a passing couple on the piazza, promenading like themselves, + they might have heard the waters of the fountain rise and bubble and break + and sigh as the pulsating impulse beat like heart-throbs, and perchance on + its rocky marge an oread a-singing. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't answer me,” she pouted with an affectation of pettishness. + “Do you know that you trouble yourself to talk very little, Captain + Girard!” + </p> + <p> + “I think the more,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + “Think? Oh, dear me! I didn't know that anybody does anything so + unfashionable nowadays as to <i>think!</i> And what do you think about, + pray?” + </p> + <p> + “About you!” + </p> + <p> + And that began it: he was a gallant man, and he had been a brave one. He + was not aware how far he was going on so short an acquaintance, but his + temerity was not displeasing to the lady. She liked his manner of storming + the citadel, and she did not realize that he merely spoke at random, as + best he might. He was in his uniform a splendid and martial presentment of + military youth, and indeed he was much the junior of his compeers. + </p> + <p> + “Who are Captain Girard's people, Papa?” she asked Colonel Duval next + morning, as the family party sat at breakfast in quasi seclusion at one of + the small round tables in the crowded dining-room, full of the chatter of + people and the clatter of dishes. + </p> + <p> + “Girard?” Colonel Duval repeated thoughtfully. “I really don't know. I + have an impression they live somewhere in East Tennessee. I never met him + till just about the end of the war.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Papa! How unsatisfactory you are! You never know anything about + anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think his people must be very plain,” said Mrs. Duval. Her + social discrimination was extremely acute and in constant practice. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why. He is very much of a gentleman,” the Colonel contended. + His heart was warm to-day with much fraternizing, and it was not kind to + brush the bloom off his peach. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, trifles suggest the fact. He is not at all <i>au fait</i>.” + </p> + <p> + He was, however, experienced in ways of the world unimagined in her + philosophy. The reunion had drawn to a close, ending in a flare of jollity + and tender reminiscence and good-fellowship. The old soldiers were all + gone save a few regular patrons of the hotel, who with their families were + completing their summer sojourn. Captain Girard lingered, too, fascinated + by this glimpse of the frivolous world, hitherto unimagined, rather than + by the incense to his vanity offered by his facile acceptance as a squire + of dames. For the first time in his life he felt the grinding lack of + money. Being a man of resource, he set about swiftly supplying this need. + In the dull days of inaction, when the armies lay supine and only + occasionally the monotony was broken by the engagement of distant + skirmishers or a picket line was driven in on the main body, he had + learned to play a game at cards much in vogue at that period, though for + no greater hazards than grains of corn or Confederate money, almost as + worthless. In the realization now that the same principles held good with + stakes of value, he seemed to enter upon the possession of a veritable + gold mine. The peculiar traits that his one unique experience of the world + had developed—his coolness, his courage, his discernment of + strategic resources—stood him in good stead, and long after the + microcosm of the hotel lay fast asleep the cards were dealt and play ran + high in the little building called the casino, ostensibly devoted to the + milder delights of billiards and cigars. + </p> + <p> + Either luck favored him or he had rare discrimination of relative chances + in the run of the cards, or the phenomenally bold hand he played + disconcerted his adversaries, but his almost invariable winning began to + affect injuriously his character. Indeed, he was said to be a rook of + unrivalled rapacity. Colonel Duval was in the frame of mind that his wife + called “bearish” one morning as his family gathered for breakfast in the + limited privacy of their circle about the round table in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to avoid that fellow, Alicia,” he growled <i>sotto voce</i>, + as he intercepted a bright matutinal smile that the fair Alicia sent as a + morning greeting to Girard, who had just entered and taken his seat at a + distance. “We know nothing under heaven about his people, and he himself + has the repute of being a desperate gambler.” + </p> + <p> + His wife raised significant eyebrows. “If that is true, why should he stay + in this quiet place?” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Duval experienced a momentary embarrassment. “Oh, the place is + right enough. He stays, no doubt, because he likes it. You might as well + ask why old Mr. Whitmel stays here.” + </p> + <p> + “The idea of mentioning a clergyman in this connection!” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Whitmel is professionally busy,” cried Alicia. “He told me that he is + studying 'the disintegration of a soul.' I hope it is not <i>my</i> soul.” + </p> + <p> + The phrase probably interested Alicia in her idleness, for she was + certainly actuated by no view of a moral uplift in the character of + Girard, the handsome gambler. She did not recognize a subtle cruelty in + her system of universal fascination, but her vanity demanded constant + tribute, and she was peculiarly absorbed in the effort to bring to her + feet this man of iron, her knight in armor, as she was wont to call him, + to control him with her influence, to bend this unmalleable material like + the proverbial wax in her hands. She had great faith in the coercive power + of her hazel eyes, and she brought their batteries to bear on Girard on + the first occasion when she had him at her mercy. + </p> + <p> + “I have heard something about you which is very painful,” she said one day + as they sat together beside the chalybeate spring. The crag, all + discolored in rust-red streaks by the dripping of the mineral water + through its interstices, towered above their heads; the ferns, exquisite + and of subtle fragrance, tufted the niches; the trees were close about + them, and below, on the precipitous slope; sometimes the lush green boughs + parted, revealing a distant landscape of azure ranges, far stretching + against a sky as blue, and in the valley of the foreground long bars of + golden hue, where fields, denuded of the harvested wheat, took the sun. + Girard lounged, languid, taciturn, and quiescent as ever, on the opposite + side of the circular rock basin wherein the clear water fell. + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you what it is,” Alicia went on, after a pause, for, though + he looked attentive, he gave not even a glance of question. “I hear that + you gamble.” + </p> + <p> + His gaze concentrated as he knitted his brows, but he said nothing. + </p> + <p> + She pulled her broad straw hat forward on her auburn hair and readjusted + the flounces of her white morning dress, saying while thus engaged, “Yes, + indeed; that you gamble—like—like fury!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, don't you know that's against the law?” he demanded unexpectedly. + </p> + <p> + “I know that it is very wrong and sinful,” she said solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “Thanky. I'll put that in my pipe an' smoke it! I'm very wrong and sinful, + I am given to understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I didn't mean <i>you</i> so much,” she faltered, perturbed by this + sudden charge of the enemy. “I meant the practice.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know that I'm a sinner in more ways 'n one; but I <i>didn't</i> + know that you were a lady-preacher.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that it is none of my business——” + </p> + <p> + “You ought to be so glad of that,” he retorted. + </p> + <p> + She maintained a silence that might have suggested a degree of offended + pride, and she was truly humiliated that her vaunted hazel eyes had so + signally failed to work their wonted charm. As they strolled back together + up the steep path to the hotel he seemed either unobservant or uncaring, + so impassive were his manners, and she was aware that her demonstration + had resulted in giving him information which he could not otherwise have + gained. Later, she was nettled to notice that he had utilized it in + prosaic fashion, for that night no lights flared late from the casino. + </p> + <p> + The gamesters, informed that rumors were a-wing, had betaken themselves + elsewhere. A small smoking-room in the hotel proper seemed less obnoxious + to suspicion in the depleted condition of the guest-list, since autumn was + now approaching. After eleven o'clock the coterie would scarcely be + subject to interruption, and there they gathered as the hour waxed late. + The cards were duly dealt, the draw was on, when suddenly the door opened + and old Mr. Whitmel, his favorite meerschaum in his hand and a sheaf of + newly arrived journals, entered with the evident intention of a prolonged + stay. A “standpatter” seemed hardly so assured as before he encountered + the dim, surprised gaze, but the old clergyman was esteemed a good sort, + and he ventured on a reminder: + </p> + <p> + “You have been here before, haven't you, Mr. Whitmel? Saw a deal of this + sort of thing in the army!” And he rattled the chips significantly. + </p> + <p> + “Used to see that sort of thing in the army? Yes, yes, indeed—more + than I wanted to see—very much more!” + </p> + <p> + Colonel Duval took schooling much amiss. He turned up his florid face with + its auburn mustachios and Burnside whiskers from its bending over the + cards and showed a broad arch of glittering white teeth in an ungenial + laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Remember, Mr. Whitmel, at that fight we had in the hills not far from the + Ocoee, how you rebuked two artillerymen for swearing? Something was wrong + with the vent-hole of the piece, and one of the gunners asked what + business you had with their language; and you said, 'I am a minister of + the Lord,' and the fellow gave it back very patly, 'I ain't carin' ef you + was a minister of state!' Then you said, 'No, you would doubtless swear in + the presence of an angel.' And the fellow with the sponge-staff declared, + 'Say, Mister, ef you are <i>that</i>, you are an angel off your feed + certain'—you were worn to skin and bone then—'an' the rations + of manna must be ez skimpy in heaven ez the rations o' bacon down here in + Dixie.' Ha, ha, ha!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Whitmel had taken a seat in an easy-chair; he had struck a match and + was composedly kindling his pipe. “I felt nearer a higher communion that + day than often since,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The coterie of gentlemen looked at one another in disconsolate + uncertainty, and one turned his cards face downward and laid them + resignedly on the table. The party was evidently in for one of the old + chaplain's long stories, with a few words by way of application, and there + was no decent opportunity to demur. They were the intruders in the + smoking-room—not he! Here with his pipe and his paper, he was within + the accommodation assigned him. They must hie them back to the casino to + be at ease, and this would they do when he should reach the end of his + story—if indeed it had an end. + </p> + <p> + For with the prolixity of the eye-witness he was detailing the points of + the battle; what troops were engaged; how the flank was turned; how the + reserve was delayed; how the guns were planted; how the cavalry was + ordered to charge over impracticable ground, and how in consequence he saw + a squadron literally annihilated; how for hours after the fight was over a + sergeant of the Dovinger Rangers pervaded the field with the guidon, + calling on them by name to rally. + </p> + <p> + “And, gentlemen,” he continued, turning in his chair, the fire kindling in + his eyes as it died in the bowl of his pipe, “not one man responded, for + none could rise from that horrid slaughter.” + </p> + <p> + There was a moment of tense silence. Then, “Back and forth the guidon + flaunted, and the rain began to fall, and the night came on, and still the + dusk echoed the cry, 'Guide right! Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the + guidon! Rally on the reserve!'” + </p> + <p> + The old chaplain stuck his pipe into his mouth and brought it aflare again + with two or three strong indrawing respirations. + </p> + <p> + “The surgeons said it would end in a case of dementia. I was sorry, for I + had seen much that day that hurt me, and more than all was this. For I + could picture that valiant young spirit going through life, spared by + God's mercy; and it seemed to me that when the enemy, in whatever guise, + should press him hard and defeat should bear him down he would have the + courage and the ardor and the moral strength to rally on the reserve. He + would rally on the guidon.” + </p> + <p> + The old chaplain pulled strongly at his pipe, setting the blue wreaths of + smoke circling about his head. “I should know that young fellow again + wherever I might chance to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he collapse at last and verify the surgeon's prophecy!” asked the + dealer. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” drawled the chaplain, with a little flattered laugh, “I myself + took care of that Many years ago I studied medicine, before I was favored + with a higher call. Neurology was my line. When the boy's horse sank + exhausted beneath him, and he fell into a sleep or stupor on the carcass, + I removed the object of the obsession. I slipped the flag-staff, guidon + and all, into a crevice of the rocks, where it will remain till the end of + our time, be sure.” He laughed in relish of his arbitrary intervention. + </p> + <p> + “There was a fine healthy clamor in camp the next morning about the lost + guidon. But I did the soldier no damage, for he had been promoted to a + lieutenancy for special gallantry on the field, and he therefore could no + longer have carried the guidon if he had had both the flag and the troop.” + </p> + <p> + The stories of camp and field, thus begun, swiftly multiplied; they wore + the fire to embers, and the oil sank low in the lamps. There was a chill + sense of dawn in the blue-gray mist when the group, separating at last, + issued upon the veranda; the moon, so long hovering over the sombre + massive mountains, was slowly sinking in the west. + </p> + <p> + Among the shadows of the pillars a tall, martial figure lurked in ambush + for the old chaplain, as he rounded the corner of the veranda on his way + to his own quarters. + </p> + <p> + “Pa'son,” a husky voice spoke from out the dim comminglement of the mist + and the moon, “'twas me that carried that guidon in Dovinger 's Bangers.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” declared the triumphant tactician. “<i>I</i> recognized you + as soon as I saw you again.” + </p> + <p> + “I 'm through with this,” the young mountaineer exclaimed abruptly, with + an eloquent gesture of renunciation toward the deserted card-table visible + through the vista of open doors. “I'm going home—to work! I'll never + forget that I was marker in Dovinger's Rangers. I carried the guidon! And + that last day I marked their way to glory! There's nothing left of them + except honor and duty, but I'll rally on that, Chaplain. Never fear for + me, again. I'll rally on the reserve!” + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Guidon, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + +***** This file should be named 23555-h.htm or 23555-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/5/23555/ + +Produced by David Widger + +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. 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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 Lost Guidon + 1911 + +Author: Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +Release Date: November 19, 2007 [EBook #23555] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + +THE LOST GUIDON + +By Charles Egbert Craddock + +1911 + + +Night came early. It might well seem that day had fled affrighted. The +heavy masses of clouds, glooming low, which had gathered thicker and +thicker, as if crowding to witness the catastrophe, had finally shaken +asunder in the concussions of the air at the discharges of artillery, +and now the direful rain, always sequence of the shock of battle, was +steadily falling, falling, on the stricken field. Many a soldier who +might have survived his wounds would succumb to exposure to the elements +during the night, debarred the tardy succor that must needs await his +turn. One of the surgeons at their hasty work at the field hospital, +under the shelter of the cliffs on the slope, paused to note the presage +of doom and death, and to draw a long breath before he adjusted himself +anew to the grim duties of the scalpel in his hand. His face was set and +haggard, less with a realization of the significance of the scene--for +he was used to its recurrence--than simply with a physical reflection of +horror, as if it were glassed in a mirror. A phenomenon that had earlier +caught his attention in the landscape appealed again to his notice, +perhaps because the symptom was not in his line. + +"Looks like a case of dementia," he observed to the senior surgeon, +standing near at hand. + +The superior officer adjusted his field-glass. "Looks like 'Death on the +White Horse'!" he responded. + +Down the highway, at a slow pace, rode a cavalryman wearing a gray +uniform, with a sergeant's chevrons, and mounted on a steed good in his +day, but whose day was gone. A great clot of blood had gathered on his +broad white chest, where a bayonet had thrust him deep. Despite his +exhaustion, he moved forward at the urgency of his rider's heel and +hand. The soldier held a long, heavy staff planted on one stirrup, +from the top of which drooped in the dull air the once gay guidon, +battle-rent and sodden with rain, and as he went he shouted at +intervals, "Dovinger's Bangers! Rally on the guidon!" Now and again +his strident boyish voice varied the appeal, "Hyar's yer Dov-inger's +Rangers! Bally, boys! Rally on the reserve!" + +Indeed, despite his stalwart, tall, broad-shouldered frame, he was +scarcely more than a boy. His bare head had flaxen curls like a child's; +his pallid, though sunburned face was broad and soft and beardless; his +large blue eyes were languid and spiritless, though now and then as he +turned an intent gaze over the field they flared anew with hope, as if +he expected to see rise up from that desolate expanse, from among the +stiffening carcasses of horses and the stark corpses of the troopers, +that gallant squadron wont to follow, so dashing and debonair, wherever +the guidons might mark the way. But there was naught astir save the +darkness slipping down by slow degrees--and perchance under its cloak, +already stealthily afoot, the ghoulish robbers of the dead that haunt +the track of battle. They were the human forerunners of the vulture +breed, with even a keener scent for prey, for as yet the feathered +carrion-seekers held aloof; two or three only were descried from the +field hospital, perched on the boughs of a dead tree near the river, +presently joined by another, its splendid sustained flight impeded +somewhat by the rain, battling with its big, strong wings against the +downpour of the torrents and the heavy air. + +And still through all echoed the cry, "Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's +Rangers! Rally on the reserve!" + +The bridge that crossed the river, which was running full and foaming, +had been burnt; but a span, charred and broken, still swung from the +central pier. Over toward the dun-tinted west a house was blazing, fired +by some stray bomb, perhaps, or by official design, to hinder the enemy +from utilizing the shelter, and its red rage of destruction bepainted +the clouds that hung so low above the chimneys and dormer-windows. To +the east, the woods on the steeps had been shelled, and a myriad boughs +and boles riven and rent, lay in fantastic confusion. Through the +mournful chaos the wind had begun to sweep; it sounded in unison with +the battle clamors, and shrieked and wailed and roared as it surged +adown the defiles. Now and then there came on the blast the fusillade +of dropping shots from the south, where the skirmish line of one +faction engaged the rear-guard of the other, or the pickets fell within +rifle-range. Once the sullen, melancholy boom of distant cannon shook +the clouds, and then was still, and ever and again sounded that tireless +cry, "Dovinger's Rangers. Hyar's yer guidon! Rally, boys! Rally on the +guidon! Rally on the reserve!" + +The senior surgeon, as the road wound near, stepped down toward it +when the horseman, still holding himself proudly erect, passed by. +"Sergeant," he hailed the guidon, "where is Captain Dovinger?" + +The hand mechanically went to the boy's forehead in the usual military +salute. "Killed, sir." + +"Where are the other officers of the squadron--the junior captain, the +lieutenants?" + +"Killed, sir." + +"What has become of the troopers?" + +"Killed, sir, in the last charge." + +There was a pause. Then Dr. Trent broke forth: "Are you a fool, boy? If +your command is annihilated, why do you keep up this commotion?" + +The young fellow looked blank for a moment. Then, as if he had not +reasoned on the catastrophe: "I thought at first they monght be +scattered--some of 'em. But ef--ef--they _war_ dead, but could once +_see_ the guidon, sure 't would call 'em to life. They _couldn't_ be +so dead but they would rally to the guidon! Guide right!" he shouted +suddenly. "Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the guidon, boys! Rally on the +reserve!" + +It was a time that hardened men's hearts. The young soldier had no +physical hurt that might appeal to the professional sympathies of the +senior surgeon, and he turned away with a half laugh. "Let him go +along! He can't rally Dovinger's Rangers this side of the river Styx, it +seems." + +But an old chaplain who had been hovering about the field hospital, +whispering a word here and there to stimulate the fortitude of the +wounded and solace the fears of the dying, recognized moral symptoms +alien to any diagnosis of which the senior surgeon was capable. The +latter did not deplore the diversion of interest, for the old man's +presence was not highly esteemed by the hospital corps at this scene of +hasty and terrible work, although, having taken a course in medicine in +early life, he was permitted to aid in certain ways. But the surgeons +were wont to declare that the men began to bleat at the very sight of +the chaplain. So gentle, so sympathetic, so paternal, was he that they +made the more of their wretched woes, seeing them so deeply deplored. +The senior surgeon, moreover, was not an ardent religionist. "This is no +time for a revival, Mr. Whitmel," he would insist. "Jack, there, never +spoke the name of God in his life, except to swear by it. He is too late +for prayers, and if _I_ can't pull him through, he is a goner!" But the +chaplain was fond of quoting: + + "Between the stirrup and the ground + He mercy sought and mercy found----" + +and sometimes the scene was irreverently called a "love feast" when +some hard-riding, hard-swearing, hard-fighting, unthinking sinner went +joyfully out of this world from the fatherly arms of the chaplain into +the paternal embrace of an eternal and merciful Father, as the man of +God firmly believed. + +He stood now, staring after the guidon borne through the rain and the +mist, flaunting red as the last leaves of autumn against the dun-tinted +dusk, that the dead might view the gallant and honored pennant and rise +again to its leading! + +No one followed but the tall, thin figure of the gaunt old chaplain, +unless indeed the trooping shadows that kept him company had +mysteriously roused at the stirring summons. Lanterns were now visible, +dimly flickering in one quarter where the fighting had been furious and +the slain lay six deep on the ground. Their aspirations, their valor, +their patriotism, had all exhaled--volatile essences, these incomparable +values!--and now their bodies, weighted with death, cumbered the earth. +They must be hurried out of sight, out of remembrance soon, and the +burial parties were urged to diligence at the trenches where these +cast-off semblances were to lie undistinguished together. And still the +reflection of the burning house reddened the gloomy west, and still the +cry, "Rally on the guidon! Dovinger's Rangers!" smote the thick air. + +Suddenly it was silent. The white horse that had been visible in the +flare from the flaming house, now and again flung athwart the landscape, +no longer loomed in the vista of the shadowy road. He had given way at +last, sinking down with that martial figure still in the saddle, and, +with no struggle save a mere galvanic shiver, passing away from the +scene of his faithful devoirs. + +Fatigue, agitation, anguish, his agonized obsession of the possibility +of rallying the squadron, had served to prostrate the soldier's physical +powers of resistance. He could not constrain his muscles to rise from +the recumbent position against the carcass. He started up, then sank +back, and in another moment triumphant nature conquered, and he was +asleep--a dull, dreamless sleep of absolute exhaustion, that perchance +rescued his reason as well as saved his life. + +The old chaplain was a man of infinite prejudice, steeped in all the +infirmities and fantasies of dogma; a lover of harmony, and essentially +an apostle of peace. Nevertheless, it would not have been physically +safe to call him a Jesuit. But indeed he scarcely hesitated; he stepped +over the great inert bulk of the dead horse, unclenched the muscular +grasp of the soldier, as if it had been a baby's clasp, slipped the +staff, technically the lance, of the guidon from its socket, and stood +with it in his own hand, looking suspiciously to and fro to descry if +perchance he were observed. The coast clear, he turned to the wall +of rock beside the road, for this was near the mountain sandstone +formation, fissured, splintered, with the erosions of water and weather; +and into one of the cellular, tunnel-like apertures he ran the guidon, +lance and all,--lost forever from human sight. + +In those days one might speak indeed of the march of events. Each seemed +hard on the heels of its precursor. Change ran riot in the ordering of +the world, and its aspect was utterly transformed when Casper Girard, +no longer bearing the guidon of Dovinger's Rangers, came out of the war +with a captain's shoulder-straps, won by personal fitness often proved, +the habit of command, and a great and growing opinion of himself. He was +a changeling, so to speak. No longer he felt a native of the mountain +cove where he had been born and reared. He had had a glimpse of +the world from a different standpoint, and it lured him. A dreary, +disaffected life he led for a time. + +"'Minds me of a wild tur-r-key in a trap," his mother was wont to +comment. "Always stretchin' his neck an' lookin' up an' away--when +he mought git out by looking down." And the simile was so apt that it +stayed in his mind--looking up and away! + +Of all dull inventions, in his estimation the art of printing exceeded. +He had made but indifferent progress in education during his early +youth; he was a slow and inexpert reader, and a writer whose chirography +shrank from exhibition. Now, however, a book in the hand gave him a +cherished sentiment of touch with the larger world beyond those blue +ranges that limited his sphere, and he spent much time in sedulously +reading certain volumes which he had brought home with him. + +"Spent _money_ fur 'em!" his mother would ejaculate, contemplating this +extreme audacity of extravagance. + +As she often observed, "the plough-handles seemed red-hot," and as soon +as political conditions favored he ran for office. On the strength of +his war record, a potent lever in those days, he was elected register +of the county. True, there was only a population of about fifty souls +in the county town, and the houses were log-cabins, except the temple +of justice itself, which was a two-story frame building. But his success +was a step on the road to political preferment, and his ambitious eyes +were on the future. Into the midst of his quiet incumbency as register +came Fate, all intrusive, and found him through the infrequent medium of +a weekly mail. It was at the beginning of the retrospective enthusiasm +that has served to revive the memories of the War, and he received a +letter from an old comrade-in-arms, giving the details of a brigade +reunion shortly to be held at no great distance, and, being of the +committee, inviting him to be present. + +Girard had participated in great military crises; he had marshalled his +troop in line of battle; as a mere boy, he had ridden with the guidon +lance planted on his stirrup, with the pennant flying above his head, +as the marker to lead the fierce and famous Dov-inger Rangers into the +thickest of the fight; yet he had never felt such palpitant tremors +of excitement as when he stood on the hotel piazza of the New Helvetia +Springs, where the banqueters had gathered, and suffered the ordeal of +introduction to sundry groups of fashionable ladies. He had earlier seen +specimens of the species in the course of military transitions through +the cities of the lowlands, and he watched them narrowly to detect +if they discerned perchance a difference between him and the men of +education and social station with whom his advancement in the army +had associated him. He did not reflect that they were too well-bred +to reveal any appreciation of such incongruity, but he had never +experienced a more ardent glow of gratification than upon overhearing a +friend's remark: "Girard is great! Anybody would imagine he was used to +all this!" + +No strategist was ever more wary. He would not undertake to dance, for +he readily perceived that the gyrations in the ball-room were utterly +dissimilar to the clumsy capering to which he had been accustomed on the +puncheon floor of a mountain cabin. He had the less reason for +regret since he was privileged instead to stroll up and down the +veranda,--"promenade" was the technical term,--a slender hand, +delicately gloved, on the sleeve of his gray uniform, the old +regimentals being _de rigueur_ at these reunions. A white ball-gown, +such as he had never before seen, fashioned of tissue over lustrous +white silk, swayed in diaphanous folds against him, for these were the +days of voluminous draperies; a head of auburn hair elaborately dressed +gleamed in the moonlight near his shoulder. Miss Alicia Duval thought +him tremendously handsome; she adored his record, as she would have +said--unaware how little of it she knew--and she did not so much intend +to flirt as to draw him out, for there was something about him different +from the men of her set, and it stimulated her interest. + +"Isn't the moon heavenly!" she observed, gazing at the brilliant orb, +now near the full, swinging in the sky, which became a definite blue in +its light above the massive dark mountains and the misty valley below; +for the building was as near the brink as safety permitted--nearer, the +cautious opined. + +"Heavenly? Not more'n it's got a right to be. It's a heavenly body, +ain't it?" he rejoined. + +"Oh, how sarcastic!" she exclaimed. "In what school did you acquire your +trenchant style?" + +He thought of the tiny district school where he had acquired the very +little he knew of aught, and said nothing, laughing constrainedly in +lieu of response. + +The music of the orchestra came, to them from the ball-room, and the +rhythmic beat of dancing feet; the wind lifted her hair gently and +brought to them the fragrance of flowering plants and the pungent +aroma of mint down in the depths of the ravine hard by, where lurked +a chalybeate spring; but for the noisy rout of the dance, and now and +again the flimsy chatter of a passing couple on the piazza, promenading +like themselves, they might have heard the waters of the fountain +rise and bubble and break and sigh as the pulsating impulse beat like +heart-throbs, and perchance on its rocky marge an oread a-singing. + +"But you don't answer me," she pouted with an affectation of +pettishness. "Do you know that you trouble yourself to talk very little, +Captain Girard!" + +"I think the more," he declared. + +"Think? Oh, dear me! I didn't know that anybody does anything so +unfashionable nowadays as to _think!_ And what do you think about, +pray?" + +"About you!" + +And that began it: he was a gallant man, and he had been a brave one. He +was not aware how far he was going on so short an acquaintance, but +his temerity was not displeasing to the lady. She liked his manner of +storming the citadel, and she did not realize that he merely spoke at +random, as best he might. He was in his uniform a splendid and martial +presentment of military youth, and indeed he was much the junior of his +compeers. + +"Who are Captain Girard's people, Papa?" she asked Colonel Duval next +morning, as the family party sat at breakfast in quasi seclusion at +one of the small round tables in the crowded dining-room, full of the +chatter of people and the clatter of dishes. + +"Girard?" Colonel Duval repeated thoughtfully. "I really don't know. I +have an impression they live somewhere in East Tennessee. I never met +him till just about the end of the war." + +"Oh, Papa! How unsatisfactory you are! You never know anything about +anybody." + +"I should think his people must be very plain," said Mrs. Duval. Her +social discrimination was extremely acute and in constant practice. + +"I don't know why. He is very much of a gentleman," the Colonel +contended. His heart was warm to-day with much fraternizing, and it was +not kind to brush the bloom off his peach. + +"Oh, trifles suggest the fact. He is not at all _au fait_." + +He was, however, experienced in ways of the world unimagined in her +philosophy. The reunion had drawn to a close, ending in a flare of +jollity and tender reminiscence and good-fellowship. The old soldiers +were all gone save a few regular patrons of the hotel, who with their +families were completing their summer sojourn. Captain Girard lingered, +too, fascinated by this glimpse of the frivolous world, hitherto +unimagined, rather than by the incense to his vanity offered by his +facile acceptance as a squire of dames. For the first time in his life +he felt the grinding lack of money. Being a man of resource, he set +about swiftly supplying this need. In the dull days of inaction, when +the armies lay supine and only occasionally the monotony was broken by +the engagement of distant skirmishers or a picket line was driven in on +the main body, he had learned to play a game at cards much in vogue +at that period, though for no greater hazards than grains of corn or +Confederate money, almost as worthless. In the realization now that the +same principles held good with stakes of value, he seemed to enter upon +the possession of a veritable gold mine. The peculiar traits that his +one unique experience of the world had developed--his coolness, his +courage, his discernment of strategic resources--stood him in good +stead, and long after the microcosm of the hotel lay fast asleep the +cards were dealt and play ran high in the little building called the +casino, ostensibly devoted to the milder delights of billiards and +cigars. + +Either luck favored him or he had rare discrimination of relative +chances in the run of the cards, or the phenomenally bold hand he played +disconcerted his adversaries, but his almost invariable winning began +to affect injuriously his character. Indeed, he was said to be a rook +of unrivalled rapacity. Colonel Duval was in the frame of mind that his +wife called "bearish" one morning as his family gathered for breakfast +in the limited privacy of their circle about the round table in the +dining-room. + +"I want you to avoid that fellow, Alicia," he growled _sotto voce_, as +he intercepted a bright matutinal smile that the fair Alicia sent as a +morning greeting to Girard, who had just entered and taken his seat at a +distance. "We know nothing under heaven about his people, and he himself +has the repute of being a desperate gambler." + +His wife raised significant eyebrows. "If that is true, why should he +stay in this quiet place?" + +Colonel Duval experienced a momentary embarrassment. "Oh, the place is +right enough. He stays, no doubt, because he likes it. You might as well +ask why old Mr. Whitmel stays here." + +"The idea of mentioning a clergyman in this connection!" + +"Mr. Whitmel is professionally busy," cried Alicia. "He told me that he +is studying 'the disintegration of a soul.' I hope it is not _my_ soul." + +The phrase probably interested Alicia in her idleness, for she was +certainly actuated by no view of a moral uplift in the character of +Girard, the handsome gambler. She did not recognize a subtle cruelty in +her system of universal fascination, but her vanity demanded constant +tribute, and she was peculiarly absorbed in the effort to bring to her +feet this man of iron, her knight in armor, as she was wont to call him, +to control him with her influence, to bend this unmalleable material +like the proverbial wax in her hands. She had great faith in the +coercive power of her hazel eyes, and she brought their batteries to +bear on Girard on the first occasion when she had him at her mercy. + +"I have heard something about you which is very painful," she said one +day as they sat together beside the chalybeate spring. The crag, all +discolored in rust-red streaks by the dripping of the mineral water +through its interstices, towered above their heads; the ferns, exquisite +and of subtle fragrance, tufted the niches; the trees were close about +them, and below, on the precipitous slope; sometimes the lush green +boughs parted, revealing a distant landscape of azure ranges, far +stretching against a sky as blue, and in the valley of the foreground +long bars of golden hue, where fields, denuded of the harvested wheat, +took the sun. Girard lounged, languid, taciturn, and quiescent as ever, +on the opposite side of the circular rock basin wherein the clear water +fell. + +"I will tell you what it is," Alicia went on, after a pause, for, though +he looked attentive, he gave not even a glance of question. "I hear that +you gamble." + +His gaze concentrated as he knitted his brows, but he said nothing. + +She pulled her broad straw hat forward on her auburn hair and readjusted +the flounces of her white morning dress, saying while thus engaged, +"Yes, indeed; that you gamble--like--like fury!" + +"Why, don't you know that's against the law?" he demanded unexpectedly. + +"I know that it is very wrong and sinful," she said solemnly. + +"Thanky. I'll put that in my pipe an' smoke it! I'm very wrong and +sinful, I am given to understand." + +"Why, I didn't mean _you_ so much," she faltered, perturbed by this +sudden charge of the enemy. "I meant the practice." + +"Oh, I know that I'm a sinner in more ways 'n one; but I _didn't_ know +that you were a lady-preacher." + +"You mean that it is none of my business----" + +"You ought to be so glad of that," he retorted. + +She maintained a silence that might have suggested a degree of offended +pride, and she was truly humiliated that her vaunted hazel eyes had +so signally failed to work their wonted charm. As they strolled back +together up the steep path to the hotel he seemed either unobservant +or uncaring, so impassive were his manners, and she was aware that her +demonstration had resulted in giving him information which he could +not otherwise have gained. Later, she was nettled to notice that he had +utilized it in prosaic fashion, for that night no lights flared late +from the casino. + +The gamesters, informed that rumors were a-wing, had betaken themselves +elsewhere. A small smoking-room in the hotel proper seemed less +obnoxious to suspicion in the depleted condition of the guest-list, +since autumn was now approaching. After eleven o'clock the coterie would +scarcely be subject to interruption, and there they gathered as the hour +waxed late. The cards were duly dealt, the draw was on, when suddenly +the door opened and old Mr. Whitmel, his favorite meerschaum in his +hand and a sheaf of newly arrived journals, entered with the evident +intention of a prolonged stay. A "standpatter" seemed hardly so assured +as before he encountered the dim, surprised gaze, but the old clergyman +was esteemed a good sort, and he ventured on a reminder: + +"You have been here before, haven't you, Mr. Whitmel? Saw a deal of this +sort of thing in the army!" And he rattled the chips significantly. + +"Used to see that sort of thing in the army? Yes, yes, indeed--more than +I wanted to see--very much more!" + +Colonel Duval took schooling much amiss. He turned up his florid face +with its auburn mustachios and Burnside whiskers from its bending +over the cards and showed a broad arch of glittering white teeth in an +ungenial laugh. + +"Remember, Mr. Whitmel, at that fight we had in the hills not far from +the Ocoee, how you rebuked two artillerymen for swearing? Something was +wrong with the vent-hole of the piece, and one of the gunners asked what +business you had with their language; and you said, 'I am a minister of +the Lord,' and the fellow gave it back very patly, 'I ain't carin' ef +you was a minister of state!' Then you said, 'No, you would doubtless +swear in the presence of an angel.' And the fellow with the sponge-staff +declared, 'Say, Mister, ef you are _that_, you are an angel off your +feed certain'--you were worn to skin and bone then--'an' the rations of +manna must be ez skimpy in heaven ez the rations o' bacon down here in +Dixie.' Ha, ha, ha!" + +Mr. Whitmel had taken a seat in an easy-chair; he had struck a match and +was composedly kindling his pipe. "I felt nearer a higher communion that +day than often since," he said. + +The coterie of gentlemen looked at one another in disconsolate +uncertainty, and one turned his cards face downward and laid them +resignedly on the table. The party was evidently in for one of the old +chaplain's long stories, with a few words by way of application, and +there was no decent opportunity to demur. They were the intruders in the +smoking-room--not he! Here with his pipe and his paper, he was within +the accommodation assigned him. They must hie them back to the casino to +be at ease, and this would they do when he should reach the end of his +story--if indeed it had an end. + +For with the prolixity of the eye-witness he was detailing the points of +the battle; what troops were engaged; how the flank was turned; how +the reserve was delayed; how the guns were planted; how the cavalry was +ordered to charge over impracticable ground, and how in consequence he +saw a squadron literally annihilated; how for hours after the fight +was over a sergeant of the Dovinger Rangers pervaded the field with the +guidon, calling on them by name to rally. + +"And, gentlemen," he continued, turning in his chair, the fire kindling +in his eyes as it died in the bowl of his pipe, "not one man responded, +for none could rise from that horrid slaughter." + +There was a moment of tense silence. Then, "Back and forth the guidon +flaunted, and the rain began to fall, and the night came on, and still +the dusk echoed the cry, 'Guide right! Dovinger's Rangers! Rally on the +guidon! Rally on the reserve!'" + +The old chaplain stuck his pipe into his mouth and brought it aflare +again with two or three strong indrawing respirations. + +"The surgeons said it would end in a case of dementia. I was sorry, for +I had seen much that day that hurt me, and more than all was this. For +I could picture that valiant young spirit going through life, spared by +God's mercy; and it seemed to me that when the enemy, in whatever guise, +should press him hard and defeat should bear him down he would have the +courage and the ardor and the moral strength to rally on the reserve. He +would rally on the guidon." + +The old chaplain pulled strongly at his pipe, setting the blue wreaths +of smoke circling about his head. "I should know that young fellow again +wherever I might chance to see him." + +"Did he collapse at last and verify the surgeon's prophecy!" asked the +dealer. + +"Well," drawled the chaplain, with a little flattered laugh, "I myself +took care of that Many years ago I studied medicine, before I was +favored with a higher call. Neurology was my line. When the boy's horse +sank exhausted beneath him, and he fell into a sleep or stupor on +the carcass, I removed the object of the obsession. I slipped the +flag-staff, guidon and all, into a crevice of the rocks, where it will +remain till the end of our time, be sure." He laughed in relish of his +arbitrary intervention. + +"There was a fine healthy clamor in camp the next morning about the lost +guidon. But I did the soldier no damage, for he had been promoted to a +lieutenancy for special gallantry on the field, and he therefore could +no longer have carried the guidon if he had had both the flag and the +troop." + +The stories of camp and field, thus begun, swiftly multiplied; they wore +the fire to embers, and the oil sank low in the lamps. There was a chill +sense of dawn in the blue-gray mist when the group, separating at last, +issued upon the veranda; the moon, so long hovering over the sombre +massive mountains, was slowly sinking in the west. + +Among the shadows of the pillars a tall, martial figure lurked in ambush +for the old chaplain, as he rounded the corner of the veranda on his way +to his own quarters. + +"Pa'son," a husky voice spoke from out the dim comminglement of the +mist and the moon, "'twas me that carried that guidon in Dovinger 's +Bangers." + +"I know it," declared the triumphant tactician. "_I_ recognized you as +soon as I saw you again." + +"I 'm through with this," the young mountaineer exclaimed abruptly, +with an eloquent gesture of renunciation toward the deserted card-table +visible through the vista of open doors. "I'm going home--to work! I'll +never forget that I was marker in Dovinger's Rangers. I carried the +guidon! And that last day I marked their way to glory! There's nothing +left of them except honor and duty, but I'll rally on that, Chaplain. +Never fear for me, again. I'll rally on the reserve!" + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lost Guidon, by +Charles Egbert Craddock (AKA Mary Noailles Murfree) + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LOST GUIDON *** + +***** This file should be named 23555.txt or 23555.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/5/23555/ + +Produced by David Widger + +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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