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diff --git a/25866-h/25866-h.htm b/25866-h/25866-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ab3e9f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/25866-h/25866-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9066 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Search, by Grace Livingston Hill</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + div.ce p {text-align: center; margin: auto 0;} + .caption {font-size:.8em} + hr.tb {width: 35%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + .blockquot {margin-left:5%; margin-right:5%;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; color: silver; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + div.ra p {text-align: right; margin: auto 0;} + hr.major {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; clear:both;} + hr.silver {width: 100%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver;} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em} + + h1,h3 { text-align: center; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Search, by Grace Livingston Hill</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Search</p> +<p>Author: Grace Livingston Hill</p> +<p>Release Date: June 21, 2008 [eBook #25866]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEARCH***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3>E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ddddee;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td> + Transcriber's note:<br /> + <br /> + Chapter numbering skips Chapter XI in the printed + text. The original numbering has been retained in + this transcription. + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:2em; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:.5em;'>THE SEARCH </p> +<p>BY</p> +<p style=' margin-bottom:5em;'>GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL</p> +</div> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title='' /><br /> +</div> + +<p style='letter-spacing:0.3em; text-align:center; margin: 2em auto 0 auto'>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> + +<div class='ce'> +<p>PUBLISHERS NEW YORK</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p style=' font-size:smaller;'>Made in the United States of America</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce' style=' font-size:smaller;'> +<p>COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY THE CHRISTIAN HERALD</p> +<p>COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY</p> +<div style='margin-top:1em'></div> +<p>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'>THE SEARCH </p> +</div> + +<hr class='silver' /> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span></div> +<div class='ce'> +<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:2em;'>THE SEARCH</p> +</div> + +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<h2>I</h2> +</div> + +<p>Two young men in officers’ uniforms entered the +smoker of a suburban train, and after the usual +formalities of matches and cigarettes settled back to +enjoy their ride out to Bryne Haven. +</p> +<p>“What d’ye think of that girl I introduced you +to the other night, Harry? Isn’t she a pippin?” +asked the second lieutenant taking a luxurious puff +at his cigarette. +</p> +<p>“I should say, Bobbie, she’s some girl! Where +d’ye pick her up? I certainly owe you one for a +good time.” +</p> +<p>“Don’t speak of it, Harry. Come on with me +and try it again. I’m going to see her friend to-night +and can get her over the ’phone any time. +She’s just nuts about you. What do you say? Shall +I call her up?” +</p> +<p>“Well, hardly to-night, Bob,” said the first +lieutenant thoughtfully, “she’s a ripping fine girl +and all that, of course, but the fact is, Bob, I’ve decided +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +to marry Ruth Macdonald and I haven’t +much time left before I go over. I think I’ll have +to get things fixed up between us to-night, you see. +Perhaps—later——. But no. I guess that +wouldn’t do. Ruth’s folks are rather fussy about +such things. It might get out. No, Bob, I’ll have +to forego the pleasures you offer me this time.” +</p> +<p>The second lieutenant sat up and whistled: +</p> +<p>“You’ve decided to marry Ruth Macdonald!” +he ejaculated, staring. “But has Ruth Macdonald +decided to marry you?” +</p> +<p>“I hardly think there’ll be any trouble on that +score when I get ready to propose,” smiled the first +lieutenant complacently, as he lolled back in his +seat. “You seem surprised,” he added. +</p> +<p>“Well, rather!” said the other officer dryly, +still staring. +</p> +<p>“What’s there so surprising about that?” The +first lieutenant was enjoying the sensation he was +creating. He knew that the second lieutenant had +always been “sweet” on Ruth Macdonald. +</p> +<p>“Well, you know, Harry, you’re pretty rotten!” +said the second lieutenant uneasily, a flush +beginning to rise in his face. “I didn’t think you’d +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span> +have the nerve. She’s a mighty fine girl, you know. +She’s—<i>unusual</i>!” +</p> +<p>“Exactly. Didn’t you suppose I would want a +fine girl when I marry?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t believe you’re really going to do it!” +burst forth the second lieutenant. “In fact, I don’t +believe I’ll <i>let</i> you do it if you try!” +</p> +<p>“You couldn’t stop me, Bob!” with an amiable +sneer. “One word from you, young man, and I’d +put your captain wise about where you were the last +time you overstayed your leave and got away with +it. You know I’ve got a pull with your captain. +It never pays for the pot to call the kettle black.” +</p> +<p>The second lieutenant sat back sullenly with a +deep red streaking his cheeks. +</p> +<p>“You’re no angel yourself, Bob, see?” went on +the first lieutenant lying back in his seat in satisfied +triumph, “and I’m going to marry Ruth Macdonald +next week and get a ten days’ leave! Put that in +your pipe and smoke it!” +</p> +<p>There ensued a long and pregnant silence. One +glance at the second lieutenant showed that he was +most effectually silenced. +</p> +<p>The front door of the car slammed open and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span> +shut, and a tall slim officer with touches of silver +about the edges of his dark hair, and a look of command +in his keen eyes came crisply down the aisle. +The two young lieutenants sat up with a jerk, and +an undertone of oaths, and prepared to salute as he +passed them. The captain gave them a quick +searching glance as he saluted and went on to the +next car. +</p> +<p>The two jerked out salutes and settled back +uneasily. +</p> +<p>“That man gives me a pain!” said Harry +Wainwright preparing to soothe his ruffled spirits +by a fresh cigarette. +</p> +<p>“He thinks he’s so doggone good himself that +he has to pry into other people’s business and get +them in wrong. It beats me how he ever got to be a +captain—a prim old fossil like him!” +</p> +<p>“It might puzzle some people to know how you +got your commission, Harry. You’re no fossil, of +course, but you’re no angel, either, and there are +some things in your career that aren’t exactly laid +down in military manuals.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, my uncle Henry looked after my commission. +It was a cinch! He thinks the sun rises and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +sets in me, and he had no idea how he perjured himself +when he put me through. Why, I’ve got some +of the biggest men in the country for my backers, +and wouldn’t they lie awake at night if they knew! +Oh Boy! I thought I’d croak when I read some +of those recommendations, they fairly gushed with +praise. You’d have died laughing, Bob, if you had +read them. They had such adjectives as ‘estimable, +moral, active, efficient,’ and one went so far as +to say that I was equally distinguished in college in +scholarship and athletics! Some stretch of imagination, +eh, what?” +</p> +<p>The two laughed loudly over this. +</p> +<p>“And the best of it is,” continued the first lieutenant, +“the poor boob believed it was all true!” +</p> +<p>“But your college records, Harry, how could +they get around those? Or didn’t they look +you up?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, mother fixed that all up. She sent the +college a good fat check to establish a new scholarship +or something.” +</p> +<p>“Lucky dog!” sighed his friend. “Now I’m +just the other way. I never try to put anything over +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span> +but I get caught, and nobody ever tried to cover up +my tracks for me when I got gay!” +</p> +<p>“You worry too much, Bobby, and you never +take a chance. Now <i>I</i>——” +</p> +<p>The front door of the car opened and shut with +a slam, and a tall young fellow with a finely cut face +and wearing workman’s clothes entered. He gave +one quick glance down the car as though he was +searching for someone, and came on down the aisle. +The sight of him stopped the boast on young Wainwright’s +tongue, and an angry flush grew, and +rolled up from the top of his immaculate olive-drab +collar to his close, military hair-cut. +</p> +<p>Slowly, deliberately, John Cameron walked +down the aisle of the car looking keenly from side +to side, scanning each face alertly, until his eyes +lighted on the two young officers. At Bob Wetherill +he merely glanced knowingly, but he fixed his +eyes on young Wainwright with a steady, amused, +contemptuous gaze as he came toward him; a gaze +so noticeable that it could not fail to arrest the attention +of any who were looking; and he finished the +affront with a lingering turn of his head as he passed +by, and a slight accentuation of the amusement as +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +he finally lifted his gaze and passed on out of the +rear door of the car. Those who were sitting in the +seats near the door might have heard the words: +“And they <i>killed</i> such men as Lincoln!” muttered +laughingly as the door slammed shut behind him. +</p> +<p>Lieutenant Wainwright uttered a low oath of +imprecation and flung his half spent cigarette on +the floor angrily: +</p> +<p>“Did you see that, Bob?” he complained furiously, +“If I don’t get that fellow!” +</p> +<p>“I certainly did! Are you going to stand for +that? What’s eating him, anyway? Has he got it +in for you again? But <i>he</i> isn’t a very easy fellow +to get, you know. He has the reputation——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I know! Yes, I guess anyhow <i>I +know</i>!” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I see! Licked you, too, once, did he?” +laughed Wetherill, “what had you been up to?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, having some fun with his girl! At least +I suppose she must have been his girl the way he +carried on about it. He said he didn’t know her, +but of course that was all bluff. Then, too, I called +his father a name he didn’t like and he lit into me +again. Good night! I thought that was the end +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +of little Harry! I was sick for a week after he got +through with me. He certainly is some brute. Of +course, I didn’t realize what I was up against at +first or I’d have got the upper hand right away. I +could have, you know! I’ve been trained! But I +didn’t want to hurt the fellow and get into the +papers. You see, the circumstances were peculiar +just then——” +</p> +<p>“I see! You’d just applied for Officer’s Training +Camp?” +</p> +<p>“Exactly, and you know you never can tell +what rumor a person like that can start. He’s keen +enough to see the advantage, of course, and follow +it up. Oh, he’s got one coming to him all right!” +</p> +<p>“Yes, he’s keen all right. That’s the trouble. +It’s hard to get him.” +</p> +<p>“Well, just wait. I’ve got him now. If I +don’t make him bite the dust! Ye gods! When I +think of the way he looks at me every time he sees +me I could skin him alive!” +</p> +<p>“I fancy he’d be rather slippery to skin. I +wouldn’t like to try it, Harry!” +</p> +<p>“Well, but wait till you see where I’ve got him! +He’s in the draft. He goes next week. And they’re +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +sending all those men to our camp! He’ll be a +private, of course, and he’ll have to <i>salute me</i>! +Won’t that gall him?” +</p> +<p>“He won’t do it! I know him, and <i>he won’t +do it</i>!” +</p> +<p>“I’ll take care that he does it all right! I’ll +put myself in his way and <i>make</i> him do it. And if +he refuses I’ll report him and get him in the guard +house. See? I can, you know. Then I guess he’ll +smile out of the other side of his mouth!” +</p> +<p>“He won’t likely be in your company.” +</p> +<p>“That doesn’t make any difference. I can get +him into trouble if he isn’t, but I’ll try to work it +that he is if I can. I’ve got ‘pull,’ you know, and +I know how to ‘work’ my superiors!” he swaggered. +</p> +<p>“That isn’t very good policy,” advised the other, +“I’ve heard of men picking off officers they didn’t +like when it came to battle.” +</p> +<p>“I’ll take good care that he’s in front of me on +all such occasions!” +</p> +<p>A sudden nudge from his companion made him +look up, and there looking sharply down at him, +was the returning captain, and behind him walked +John Cameron still with that amused smile on his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span> +face. It was plain that they had both heard his +boast. His face crimsoned and he jerked out a +tardy salute, as the two passed on leaving him muttering +imprecations under his breath. +</p> +<p>When the front door slammed behind the two +Wainwright spoke in a low shaken growl: +</p> +<p>“Now what in thunder is that Captain La Rue +going on to Bryne Haven for? I thought, of course, +he got off at Spring Heights. That’s where his +mother lives. I’ll bet he is going up to see Ruth +Macdonald! You know they’re related. If he is, +that knocks my plans all into a cocked hat. I’d +have to sit at attention all the evening, and I couldn’t +propose with that cad around!” +</p> +<p>“Better put it off then and come with me,” +soothed his friend. “Athalie Britt will help you +forget your troubles all right, and there’s plenty of +time. You’ll get another leave soon.” +</p> +<p>“How the dickens did John Cameron come to +be on speaking terms with Captain La Rue, I’d +like to know?” mused Wainwright, paying no heed +to his friend. +</p> +<p>“H’m! That does complicate matters for you +some, doesn’t it? Captain La Rue is down at your +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +camp, isn’t he? Why, I suppose Cameron knew +him up at college, perhaps. Cap used to come up +from the university every week last winter to lecture +at college.” +</p> +<p>Wainwright muttered a chain of choice expletives +known only to men of his kind. +</p> +<p>“Forget it!” encouraged his friend slapping +him vigorously on the shoulder as the train drew +into Bryne Haven. “Come off that grouch and +get busy! You’re on leave, man! If you can’t visit +one woman there’s plenty more, and time enough +to get married, too, before you go to France. Marriage +is only an incident, anyway. Why make such +a fuss about it?” +</p> +<p>By the fitful glare of the station lights they +could see that Cameron was walking with the captain +just ahead of them in the attitude of familiar +converse. The sight did not put Wainwright into +a better humor. +</p> +<p>At the great gate of the Macdonald estate Cameron +and La Rue parted. They could hear the +last words of their conversation as La Rue swung +into the wide driveway and Cameron started on up +the street: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p> +<p>“I’ll attend to it the first thing in the morning, +Cameron, and I’m glad you spoke to me about it! +I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t go through! +I shall be personally gratified if we can make the +arrangement. Good-night and good luck to you!” +</p> +<p>The two young officers halted at a discreet distance +until John Cameron had turned off to the +right and walked away into the darkness. The captain’s +quick step could be heard crunching along +the gravel drive to the Macdonald house. +</p> +<p>“Well, I guess that about settles me for the +night, Bobbie!” sighed Wainwright. “Come on, +let’s pass the time away somehow. I’ll stop at the +drug store to ’phone and make a date with Ruth for +to-morrow morning. Wonder where I can get a +car to take her out? No, I don’t want to go in her +car because she always wants to run it herself. +When you’re proposing to a woman you don’t want +her to be absorbed in running a car. See?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know. I haven’t so much experience +in that line as you have, Harry, but I should think +it might be inconvenient,” laughed the other. +</p> +<p>They went back to the station. A few minutes +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +later Wainwright emerged from the telephone booth +in the drug store with a lugubrious expression. +</p> +<p>“Doggone my luck! She’s promised to go to +church with that smug cousin of hers, and she’s busy +all the rest of the day. But she’s promised to give +me next Saturday if I can get off!” His face +brightened with the thought. +</p> +<p>“I guess I can make it. If I can’t do anything +else I’ll tell ’em I’m going to be married, and then +I can make her rush things through, perhaps. Girls +are game for that sort of thing just now; it’s in the +air, these war marriages. By George, I’m not sure +but that’s the best way to work it after all. She’s +the kind of a girl that would do almost anything to +help you out of a fix that way, and I’ll just tell her +I had to say that to get off and that I’ll be court-martialed +if they find out it wasn’t so. How +about it?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know, Harry. It’s all right, of course, +if you can get away with it, but Ruth’s a pretty +bright girl and has a will of her own, you know. +But now, come on. It’s getting late. What do you +say if we get up a party and run down to Atlantic +City over Sunday, now that you’re free? I know +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +those two girls would be tickled to death to go, +especially Athalie. She’s a Westerner, you know, +and has never seen the ocean.” +</p> +<p>“All right, come on, only you must promise +there won’t be any scrapes that will get me into +the papers and blow back to Bryne Haven. You +know there’s a lot of Bryne Haven people go to +Atlantic City this time of year and I’m not going to +have any stories started. <i>I’m going to marry Ruth +Macdonald!</i>” +</p> +<p>“All right. Come on.” +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span> +<h2>II</h2> +</div> + +<p>Ruth Macdonald drew up her little electric +runabout sharply at the crossing, as the station +gates suddenly clanged down in her way, and sat +back with a look of annoyance on her face. +</p> +<p>Michael of the crossing was so overcareful sometimes +that it became trying. She was sure there +was plenty of time to cross before the down train. +She glanced at her tiny wrist watch and frowned. +Why, it was fully five minutes before the train was +due! What could Michael mean, standing there +with his flag so importantly and that determined +look upon his face? +</p> +<p>She glanced down the platform and was surprised +to find a crowd. There must be a special +expected. What was it? A convention of some +sort? Or a picnic? It was late in the season for +picnics, and not quite soon enough for a college football +game. Who were they, anyway? She looked +them over and was astonished to find people of +every class, the workers, the wealthy, the plain +every-day men, women and children, all with a waiting +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +attitude and a strange seriousness upon them. +As she looked closer she saw tears on some faces and +handkerchiefs everywhere in evidence. Had some +one died? Was this a funeral train they were awaiting? +Strange she had not heard! +</p> +<p>Then the band suddenly burst out upon her +with the familiar wail: +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>There’s a long, long trail awinding,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2em;'>Into the land of our dreams,—</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>and behind came the muffled tramping of feet not +accustomed to marching together. +</p> +<p>Ruth suddenly sat up very straight and began +to watch, an unfamiliar awe upon her. This must +be the first draft men just going away! Of course! +Why had she not thought of it at once. She had +read about their going and heard people mention it +the last week, but it had not entered much into her +thoughts. She had not realized that it would be a +ceremony of public interest like this. She had no +friends whom it would touch. The young men of +her circle had all taken warning in plenty of time +and found themselves a commission somewhere, two +of them having settled up matters but a few days +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +before. She had thought of these draft men, when +she had thought of them at all, only when she saw +mention of them in the newspapers, and then as a +lot of workingmen or farmers’ boys who were reluctant +to leave their homes and had to be forced into +patriotism in this way. It had not occurred to her +that there were many honorable young men who +would take this way of putting themselves at the +disposal of their country in her time of need, without +attempting to feather a nice little nest for themselves. +Now she watched them seriously and found +to her astonishment that she knew many of them. +There were three college fellows in the front ranks +whom she had met. She had danced with them and +been taken out to supper by them, and had a calling +acquaintance with their sisters. The sister of one +stood on the sidewalk now in the common crowd, +quite near to the runabout, and seemed to have forgotten +that anybody was by. Her face was +drenched with tears and her lips were quivering. +Behind her was a gray-haired woman with a skewey +blouse and a faded dark blue serge skirt too long +for the prevailing fashion. The tears were trickling +down her cheeks also; and an old man with a crutch, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +and a little round-eyed girl, seemed to belong to +the party. The old man’s lips were set and he was +looking at the boys with his heart in his eyes. +</p> +<p>Ruth shrank back not to intrude upon such open +sorrow, and glanced at the line again as they +straggled down the road to the platform; fifty serious, +grave-eyed young men with determined mien +and sorrow in the very droop of their shoulders. +One could see how they hated all this publicity and +display, this tense moment of farewell in the eyes of +the town; and yet how tender they felt toward those +dear ones who had gathered thus to do them honor +as they went away to do their part in the great +world-struggle for liberty. +</p> +<p>As she looked closer the girl saw they were not +mature men as at first glance they had seemed, but +most of them mere boys. There was the boy that +mowed the Macdonald lawn, and the yellow-haired +grocery boy. There was the gas man and the nice +young plumber who fixed the leak in the water +pipes the other day, and the clerk from the post +office, and the cashier from the bank! What made +them look so old at first sight? Why, it was as if +sorrow and responsibility had suddenly been put +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +upon them like a garment that morning for a uniform, +and they walked in the shadow of the great +sadness that had come upon the world. She understood +that perhaps even up to the very day before, +they had most of them been merry, careless boys; +but now they were men, made so in a night by the +horrible <i>sin</i> that had brought about this thing +called War. +</p> +<p>For the first time since the war began Ruth +Macdonald had a vision of what the war meant. +She had been knitting, of course, with all the rest; +she had spent long mornings at the Red Cross +rooms—she was on her way there this very minute +when Michael and the procession had interrupted +her course—she had made miles of surgical dressings +and picked tons of oakum. She had bade her +men friends cheery good-byes when they went to +Officers’ Training Camps, and with the other girls +welcomed and admired their uniforms when they +came home on short furloughs, one by one winning +his stripes and commission. They were all men +whom she had known in society. They had wealth +and position and found it easy to get into the kind +of thing that pleased them in the army or navy. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +The danger they were facing seemed hardly a negligible +quantity. It was the fashion to look on it +that way. Ruth had never thought about it before. +She had even been severe in her judgment of a few +mothers who worried about their sons and wanted +to get them exempt in some way. But these stern +loyal mothers who stood in close ranks with heavy +lines of sacrifice upon their faces, tears on their +cheeks, love and self-abnegation in their eyes, gave +her a new view of the world. These were the ones +who would be in actual poverty, some of them, without +their boys, and whose lives would be empty +indeed when they went forth. Ruth Macdonald +had never before realized the suffering this war was +causing individuals until she saw the faces of those +women with their sons and brothers and lovers; until +she saw the faces of the brave boys, for the moment +all the rollicking lightness gone, and only the pain +of parting and the mists of the unknown future in +their eyes. +</p> +<p>It came to the girl with a sudden pang that she +was left out of all this. That really it made little +difference to her whether America was in the war or +not. Her life would go on just the same—a pleasant +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +monotony of bustle and amusement. There would +be the same round of social affairs and regular engagements, +spiced with the excitement of war work +and occasional visiting uniforms. There was no +one going forth from their home to fight whose +going would put the light of life out for her and +cause her to feel sad, beyond the ordinary superficial +sadness for the absence of one’s playmates. +</p> +<p>She liked them all, her friends, and shrank from +having them in danger; although it was splendid to +have them doing something real at last. In truth +until this moment the danger had seemed so remote; +the casualty list of which people spoke with bated +breath so much a thing of vast unknown numbers, +that it had scarcely come within her realization as +yet. But now she suddenly read the truth in the +suffering eyes of these people who were met to say +good-bye, perhaps a last good-bye, to those who +were dearer than life to them. How would she, +Ruth Macdonald, feel, if one of those boys were +her brother or lover? It was inconceivably dreadful. +</p> +<p>The band blared on, and the familiar words insisted +themselves upon her unwilling mind: +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>There’s a long, long night of waiting!</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></div> +<p>A sob at her right made her start and then turn +away quickly from the sight of a mother’s grief as +she clung to a frail daughter for support, sobbing +with utter abandon, while the daughter kept begging +her to “be calm for Tom’s sake.” +</p> +<p>It was all horrible! Why had she gotten into +this situation? Aunt Rhoda would blame her for +it. Aunt Rhoda would say it was too conspicuous, +right there in the front ranks! She put her hand +on the starter and glanced out, hoping to be able to +back out and get away, but the road behind was +blocked several deep with cars, and the crowd had +closed in upon her and about her on every side. +Retreat was impossible. However, she noticed with +relief that the matter of being conspicuous need not +trouble her. Nobody was looking her way. All +eyes were turned in one direction, toward that straggling, +determined line that wound up from the +Borough Hall, past the Post Office and Bank to +the station where the Home Guards stood uniformed, +in open silent ranks doing honor to the boys +who were going to fight for them. +</p> +<p>Ruth’s eyes went reluctantly back to the marching +line again. Somehow it struck her that they +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span> +would not have seemed so forlorn if they had worn +new trig uniforms, instead of rusty varied civilian +clothes. They seemed like an ill-prepared sacrifice +passing in review. Then suddenly her gaze was +riveted upon a single figure, the last man in the +procession, marching alone, with uplifted head and +a look of self-abnegation on his strong young face. +All at once something sharp seemed to slash through +her soul and hold her with a long quiver of pain and +she sat looking straight ahead staring with a kind +of wild frenzy at John Cameron walking alone at +the end of the line. +</p> +<p>She remembered him in her youngest school +days, the imp of the grammar school, with a twinkle +in his eye and an irrepressible grin on his handsome +face. Nothing had ever daunted him and no punishment +had ever stopped his mischief. He never +studied his lessons, yet he always seemed to know +enough to carry him through, and would sometimes +burst out with astonishing knowledge where others +failed. But there was always that joke on his lips +and that wide delightful grin that made him the +worshipped-afar of all the little girls. He had +dropped a rose on her desk once as he lounged late +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span> +and laughing to his seat after recess, apparently +unaware that his teacher was calling him to order. +She could feel the thrill of her little childish heart +now as she realized that he had given the rose to +her. The next term she was sent to a private school +and saw no more of him save an occasional glimpse +in passing him on the street, but she never had forgotten +him; and now and then she had heard little +scraps of news about him. He was working his +way through college. He was on the football team +and the baseball team. She knew vaguely that his +father had died and their money was gone, but beyond +that she had no knowledge of him. They had +drifted apart. He was not of her world, and gossip +about him seldom came her way. He had long ago +ceased to look at her when they happened to pass on +the street. He doubtless had forgotten her, or +thought she had forgotten him. Or, it might even +be that he did not wish to presume upon an acquaintance +begun when she was too young to have a choice +of whom should be her friends. But the memory of +that rose had never quite faded from her heart even +though she had been but seven, and always she had +looked after him when she chanced to see him on the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +street with a kind of admiration and wonder. Now +suddenly she saw him in another light. The laugh +was gone from his lips and the twinkle from his +eyes. He looked as he had looked the day he fought +Chuck Woodcock for tying a string across the sidewalk +and tripping up the little girls on the way to +school. It came to her like a revelation that he was +going forth now in just such a way to fight the +world-foe. In a way he was going to fight for her. +To make the world a safe place for girls such as +she! All the terrible stories of Belgium flashed +across her mind, and she was lifted on a great wave +of gratitude to this boy friend of her babyhood for +going out to defend her! +</p> +<p>All the rest of the straggling line of draft men +were going out for the same purpose perhaps, but +it did not occur to her that they were anything to +her until she saw John Cameron. All those friends +of her own world who were training for officers, +they, too, were going to fight in the same way to +defend the world, but she had not thought of it in +that way before. It took a sight of John Cameron’s +high bearing and serious face to bring the knowledge +to her mind. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></p> +<p>She thought no longer of trying to get away. +She seemed held to the spot by a new insight into +life. She could not take her eyes from the face of +the young man. She forgot that she was staying, +forgot that she was staring. She could no more +control the swelling thoughts of horror that surged +over her and took possession of her than she could +have controlled a mob if it had suddenly swept +down upon her. +</p> +<p>The gates presently lifted silently to let the +little procession pass over to her side of the tracks, +and within a few short minutes the special train that +was to bear the men away to camp came rattling up, +laden with other victims of the chance that sent +some men on ahead to be pioneers in the camps. +</p> +<p>These were a noisy jolly bunch. Perhaps, having +had their own sad partings they were only trying +to brace themselves against the scenes of other +partings through which they must pass all the way +along the line. They must be reminded of their +own mothers and sisters and sweethearts. Something +of this Ruth Macdonald seemed to define to +herself as, startled and annoyed by the clamor of +the strangers in the midst of the sacredness of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +moment, she turned to look at the crowding heads +in the car windows and caught the eye of an irrepressible +youth: +</p> +<p>“Think of me over there!” he shouted, waving +a flippant hand and twinkling his eyes at the beautiful +girl in her car. +</p> +<p>Another time Ruth would have resented such +familiarity, but now something touched her spirit +with an inexpressible pity, and she let a tiny ripple +of a smile pass over her lovely face as her eyes +traveled on down the platform in search of the tall +form of John Cameron. In the moment of the +oncoming train she had somehow lost sight of him. +Ah! There he was stooping over a little white +haired woman, taking her tenderly in his arms to +kiss her. The girl’s eyes lingered on him. His +whole attitude was such a revelation of the man the +rollicking boy had become. It seemed to pleasantly +round out her thought of him. +</p> +<p>The whistle sounded, the drafted men gave one +last wringing hand-clasp, one last look, and sprang +on board. +</p> +<p>John Cameron was the last to board the train. +He stood on the lower step of the last car as it +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +began to move slowly. His hat was lifted, and he +stood with slightly lifted chin and eyes that looked +as if they had sounded the depths of all sadness and +surrendered himself to whatever had been decreed. +There was settled sorrow in all the lines of his fine +face. Ruth was startled by the change in it; by the +look of the boy in the man. Had the war done that +for him just in one short summer? Had it done +that for the thousands who were going to fight for +her? And she was sitting in her luxurious car with +a bundle of wool at her feet, and presuming to bear +her part by mere knitting! Poor little useless +woman that she was! A thing to send a man forth +from everything he counted dear or wanted to do, +into suffering and hardship—and <i>death</i>—perhaps! +She shuddered as she watched his face with +its strong uplifted look, and its unutterable sorrow. +She had not thought he could look like that! Oh, +he would be gay to-morrow, like the rest, of course, +with his merry jest and his contagious grin, and +making light of the serious business of war! He +would not be the boy he used to be without the +ability to do that. But she would never forget how +he had looked in this farewell minute while he was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +gazing his last on the life of his boyhood and being +borne away into a dubious future. She felt a hopelessly +yearning, as if, had there been time, she would +have liked to have told him how much she appreciated +his doing this great deed for her and for all +her sisters! +</p> +<p>Has it ever been fully explained why the eyes of +one person looking hard across a crowd will draw +the eyes of another? +</p> +<p>The train had slipped along ten feet or more +and was gaining speed when John Cameron’s eyes +met those of Ruth Macdonald, and her vivid speaking +face flashed its message to his soul. A pleased +wonder sprang into his eyes, a question as his glance +lingered, held by the tumult in her face, and the unmistakable +personality of her glance. Then his face +lit up with its old smile, graver, oh, much! and more +deferential than it used to be, with a certain courtliness +in it that spoke of maturity of spirit. He +lifted his hat a little higher and waved it just a trifle +in recognition of her greeting, wondering in sudden +confusion if he were really not mistaken after +all and had perhaps been appropriating a farewell +that belonged to someone else; then amazed and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +pleased at the flutter of her handkerchief in reply. +</p> +<p>The train was moving rapidly now in the midst +of a deep throaty cheer that sounded more like a +sob, and still he stood on that bottom step with his +hat lifted and let his eyes linger on the slender +girlish figure in the car, with the morning sun glinting +across her red-gold hair, and the beautiful soft +rose color in her cheeks. +</p> +<p>As the train swept past the little shelter shed he +bethought himself and turned a farewell tender +smile on the white-haired woman who stood watching +him through a mist of tears. Then his eyes +went back for one last glimpse of the girl; and so +he flashed out of sight around the curve. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +<h2>III</h2> +</div> + +<p>It had taken only a short time after all. The +crowd drowned its cheer in one deep gasp of silence +and broke up tearfully into little groups beginning +to melt away at the sound of Michael ringing up the +gates, and telling the cars and wagons to hurry that +it was almost time for the up-train. +</p> +<p>Ruth Macdonald started her car and tried to +bring her senses back to their normal calm wondering +what had happened to her and why there was +such an inexpressible mingling of loss and pleasure +in her heart. +</p> +<p>The way at first was intricate with congestion +of traffic and Ruth was obliged to go slowly. As +the road cleared before her she was about to glide +forward and make up for lost time. Suddenly a +bewildered little woman with white hair darted in +front of the car, hesitated, drew back, came on +again. Ruth stopped the car shortly, much shaken +with the swift vision of catastrophe, and the sudden +recognition of the woman. It was the same +one who had been with John Cameron. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I’m so sorry I startled you!” she called +pleasantly, leaning out of the car. “Won’t you get +in, please, and let me take you home?” +</p> +<p>The woman looked up and there were great +tears in her eyes. It was plain why she had not +seen where she was going. +</p> +<p>“Thank you, no, I couldn’t!” she said with a +choke in her voice and another blur of tears, “I—you +see—I want to get away—I’ve been seeing off +my boy!” +</p> +<p>“I know!” said Ruth with quick sympathy, “I +saw. And you want to get home quickly and cry. +I feel that way myself. But you see I didn’t have +anybody there and I’d like to do a little something +just to be in it. Won’t you please get in? You’ll +get home sooner if I take you; and see! We’re +blocking the way!” +</p> +<p>The woman cast a frightened glance about +and assented: +</p> +<p>“Of course. I didn’t realize!” she said climbing +awkwardly in and sitting bolt upright as uncomfortable +as could be in the luxurious car beside +the girl. It was all too plain she did not wish to +be there. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span></p> +<p>Ruth manœuvred her car quickly out of the +crowd and into a side street, gliding from there to +the avenue. She did not speak until they had left +the melting crowd well behind them. Then she +turned timidly to the woman: +</p> +<p>“You—are—his—<i>mother</i>?” +</p> +<p>She spoke the words hesitatingly as if she feared +to touch a wound. The woman’s eyes suddenly +filled again and a curious little quiver came on the +strong chin. +</p> +<p>“Yes,” she tried to say and smothered the word +in her handkerchief pressed quickly to her lips in an +effort to control them. +</p> +<p>Ruth laid a cool little touch on the woman’s other +hand that lay in her lap: +</p> +<p>“Please forgive me!” she said, “I wasn’t sure. +I know it must be awful,—cruel—for you!” +</p> +<p>“He—is all I have left!” the woman breathed +with a quick controlled gasp, “but, of course—it +was—right that he should go!” +</p> +<p>She set her lips more firmly and blinked off at +the blur of pretty homes on her right without seeing +any of them. +</p> +<p>“He would have gone sooner, only he thought +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +he ought not to leave me till he had to,” she said +with another proud little quiver in her voice, as if +having once spoken she must go on and say more, +“I kept telling him I would get on all right—but +he always was so careful of me—ever since his +father died!” +</p> +<p>“Of course!” said Ruth tenderly turning her +face away to struggle with a strange smarting sensation +in her own eyes and throat. Then in a low +voice she added: +</p> +<p>“I knew him, you know. I used to go to the +same school with him when I was a little bit of +a girl.” +</p> +<p>The woman looked up with a quick searching +glance and brushed the tears away firmly. +</p> +<p>“Why, aren’t you Ruth Macdonald? <i>Miss</i> +Macdonald, I mean—excuse me! You live in the +big house on the hill, don’t you?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m Ruth Macdonald. Please don’t call +me Miss. I’m only nineteen and I still answer to +my little girl name,” Ruth answered with a charming +smile. +</p> +<p>The woman’s gaze softened. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“I didn’t know John knew you,” she said speculatively. +“He never mentioned——” +</p> +<p>“Of course not!” said the girl anticipating, +“he wouldn’t. It was a long time ago when I was +seven and I doubt if he remembers me any more. +They took me out of the public school the next +year and sent me to St. Mary’s for which I’ve never +quite forgiven them, for I’m sure I should have got +on much faster at the public school and I loved it. +But I’ve not forgotten the good times I had there, +and John was always good to the little girls. We +all liked him. I haven’t seen him much lately, but +I should think he would have grown to be just what +you say he is. He looks that way.” +</p> +<p>Again the woman’s eyes searched her face, as if +she questioned the sincerity of her words; then apparently +satisfied she turned away with a sigh: +</p> +<p>“I’d have liked him to know a girl like you,” +she said wistfully. +</p> +<p>“Thank you!” said Ruth brightly, “that sounds +like a real compliment. Perhaps we shall know each +other yet some day if fortune favors us. I’m quite +sure he’s worth knowing.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, he is!” said the little mother, her tears +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +brimming over again and flowing down her dismayed +cheeks, “he’s quite worth the best society +there is, but I haven’t been able to manage a lot of +things for him. It hasn’t been always easy to get +along since his father died. Something happened +to our money. But anyway, he got through college!” +with a flash of triumph in her eyes. +</p> +<p>“Wasn’t that fine!” said Ruth with sparkling +eyes, “I’m sure he’s worth a lot more than some +of the fellows who have always had every whim +gratified. Now, which street? You’ll have to tell +me. I’m ashamed to say I don’t know this part of +town very well. Isn’t it pretty down here? This +house? What a wonderful clematis! I never saw +such a wealth of bloom.” +</p> +<p>“Yes, John planted that and fussed over it,” +said his mother with pride as she slipped unaccustomedly +out of the car to the sidewalk. “I’m very +glad to have met you and it was most kind of you to +bring me home. To tell the truth”—with a roguish +smile that reminded Ruth of her son’s grin—“I +was so weak and trembling with saying good-bye +and trying to keep up so John wouldn’t know it, +that I didn’t know how I was to get home. Though +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +I’m afraid I was a bit discourteous. I couldn’t bear +the thought of talking to a stranger just then. But +you haven’t been like a stranger—knowing him, +and all——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, thank you!” said Ruth, “it’s been so pleasant. +Do you know, I don’t believe I ever realized +what an awful thing the war is till I saw those +people down at the station this morning saying +good-bye. I never realized either what a useless +thing I am. I haven’t even anybody very dear to +send. I can only knit.” +</p> +<p>“Well, that’s a good deal. Some of us haven’t +time to do that. I never have a minute.” +</p> +<p>“You don’t need to, you’ve given your son,” +said Ruth flashing a glance of glorified understanding +at the woman. +</p> +<p>A beautiful smile came out on the tired sorrowful +face. +</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve given him,” she said, “but I’m hoping +God will give him back again some day. Do +you think that’s too much to hope. He is such a +good boy!” +</p> +<p>“Of course not,” said Ruth sharply with a sudden +sting of apprehension in her soul. And then +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +she remembered that she had no very intimate +acquaintance with God. She wished she might be +on speaking terms, at least, and she would go and +present a plea for this lonely woman. If it were +only Captain La Rue, her favorite cousin, or even +the President, she might consider it. But God! +She shuddered. Didn’t God let this awful war be? +Why did He do it? She had never thought much +about God before. +</p> +<p>“I wish you would let me come to see you +sometime and take you for another ride,” she +said sweetly. +</p> +<p>“It would be beautiful!” said the older woman, +“if you would care to take the time from your +own friends.” +</p> +<p>“I would love to have you for one of my +friends,” said the girl gracefully. +</p> +<p>The woman smiled wistfully. +</p> +<p>“I’m only here holidays and evenings,” she +conceded, “I’m doing some government work now.” +</p> +<p>“I shall come,” said Ruth brightly. “I’ve enjoyed +you ever so much.” Then she started her car +and whirled away into the sunshine. +</p> +<p>“She won’t come, of course,” said the woman to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span> +herself as she stood looking mournfully after the +car, reluctant to go into the empty house. “I wish +she would! Isn’t she just like a flower! How wonderful +it would be if things had been different, and +there hadn’t been any war, and my boy could have +had her for a friend! Oh!” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Down at the Club House the women waited for +the fair young member who had charge of the wool. +They rallied her joyously as she hurried in, suddenly +aware that she had kept them all waiting. +</p> +<p>“I saw her in the crowd at the station this morning,” +called out Mrs. Pryor, a large placid tease +with a twinkle in her eye. “She was picking out +the handsomest man for the next sweater she knits. +Which one did you choose, Miss Ruth? Tell us. +Are you going to write him a letter and stick it in +the toe of his sock?” +</p> +<p>The annoyed color swept into Ruth’s face, but +she paid no other heed as she went about her morning +duties, preparing the wool to give out. A +thought had stolen into her heart that made a tumult +there and would not bear turning over even in her +mind in the presence of all these curious people. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span> +She put it resolutely by as she taught newcomers +how to turn the heel of a sock, but now and then it +crept back again and was the cause of her dropping +an occasional stitch. +</p> +<p>Dottie Wetherill came to find out what was the +matter with her sock, and to giggle and gurgle about +her brother Bob and his friends. Bob, it appeared, +was going to bring five officers home with him next +week end and they were to have a dance Saturday +night. Of course Ruth must come. Bob was soon +to get his <i>first</i> lieutenant’s commission. There had +been a mistake, of course, or he would have had it +before this, some favoritism shown; but now Bob +had what they called a “pull,” and things were +going to be all right for him. Bob said you couldn’t +get anywhere without a “pull.” And didn’t Ruth +think Bob looked perfectly fine in his uniform? +</p> +<p>It annoyed Ruth to hear such talk and she tried +to make it plain to Dottie that she was mistaken +about “pull.” There was no such thing. It was +all imagination. She knew, for her cousin, Captain +La Rue, was very close to the Government and he +had told her so. He said that real worth was always +recognized, and that it didn’t make any difference +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +where it was found or who your friends were. It +mattered <i>what you were</i>. +</p> +<p>She fixed Dottie’s sock and moved on to the wool +table to get ready an allotment for some of the +ladies to take home. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Wainwright bustled in, large and florid +and well groomed, with a bunch of photographer’s +proofs of her son Harry in his uniform. She +called loudly for Ruth to come and inspect them. +There were some twenty or more poses, each one +seemingly fatter, more pompous and conceited looking +than the last. She stated in boisterous good +humor that Harry particularly wanted Ruth’s +opinion before he gave the order. At that Mrs. +Pryor bent her head to her neighbor and nodded +meaningly, as if a certain matter of discussion +were settled now beyond all question. Ruth caught +the look and its meaning and the color flooded her +face once more, much to her annoyance. She wondered +angrily if she would never be able to stop +that childish habit of blushing, and why it annoyed +her so very much this morning to have her name +coupled with that of Harry Wainwright. He was +her old friend and playmate, having lived next door +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +to her all her life, and it was but natural when +everybody was sweethearting and getting married, +that people should speak of her and wonder whether +there might be anything more to their relationship +than mere friendship. Still it annoyed her. Continually +as she turned the pages from one fat smug +Wainwright countenance to another, she saw in a +mist the face of another man, with uplifted head +and sorrowful eyes. She wondered if when the time +came for Harry Wainwright to go he would have +aught of the vision, and aught of the holiness of +sorrow that had shown in that other face. +</p> +<p>She handed the proofs back to the mother, so +like her son in her ample blandness, and wondered +if Mrs. Cameron would have a picture of her +son in his uniform, fine and large and lifelike as +these were. +</p> +<p>She interrupted her thoughts to hear Mrs. +Wainwright’s clarion voice lifted in parting from +the door of the Club House on her way back to +her car: +</p> +<p>“Well, good-bye, Ruth dear. Don’t hesitate +to let me know if you’d like to have either of the +other two large ones for your own ‘specials,’ you +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +know. I shan’t mind changing the order a bit. +Harry said you were to have as many as you wanted. +I’ll hold the proofs for a day or two and let you +think it over.” +</p> +<p>Ruth lifted her eyes to see the gaze of every +woman in the room upon her, and for a moment she +felt as if she almost hated poor fat doting Mamma +Wainwright. Then the humorous side of the moment +came to help her and her face blossomed into a +smile as she jauntily replied: +</p> +<p>“Oh, no, please don’t bother, Mrs. Wainwright. +I’m not going to paper the wall with them. I have +other friends, you know. I think your choice was +the best of them all.” +</p> +<p>Then as gaily as if she were not raging within +her soul she turned to help poor Dottie Wetherill +who was hopelessly muddled about turning her heel. +</p> +<p>Dottie chattered on above the turmoil of her +soul, and her words were as tiny April showers sizzling +on a red hot cannon. By and by she picked up +Dottie’s dropped stitches. After all, what did such +things matter when there was <i>war</i> and men were +giving their <i>lives</i>! +</p> +<p>“And Bob says he doubts if they ever get to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +France. He says he thinks the war will be over +before half the men get trained. He says, for his +part, he’d like the trip over after the submarines +have been put out of business. It would be something +to tell about, don’t you know? But Bob +thinks the war will be over soon. Don’t you +think so, Ruth?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know what I think,” said Ruth exasperated +at the little prattler. It seemed so awful +for a girl with brains—or hadn’t she brains?—to +chatter on interminably in that inane fashion about +a matter of such awful portent. And yet perhaps +the child was only trying to cover up her fears, for +she all too evidently worshipped her brother. +</p> +<p>Ruth was glad when at last the morning was +over and one by one the women gathered their belongings +together and went home. She stayed +longer than the rest to put the work in order. When +they were all gone she drove around by the way of +the post office and asked the old post master who +had been there for twenty years and knew everybody, +if he could tell her the address of the boys +who had gone to camp that morning. He wrote it +down and she tucked it in her blouse saying she +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +thought the Red Cross would be sending them +something soon. Then she drove thoughtfully away +to her beautiful sheltered home, where the thought +of war hardly dared to enter yet in any but a playful +form. But somehow everything was changed +within the heart of Ruth Macdonald and she looked +about on all the familiar places with new eyes. +What right had she to be living here in all this +luxury while over there men were dying every day +that she might live? +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +<h2>IV</h2> +</div> + +<p>The sun shone blindly over the broad dusty +drill-field. The men marched and wheeled, about-faced +and counter-marched in their new olive-drab +uniforms and thought of home—those that had any +homes to think about. Some who did not thought +of a home that might have been if this war had +not happened. +</p> +<p>There were times when their souls could rise to +the great occasion and their enthusiasm against the +foe could carry them to all lengths of joyful sacrifice, +but this was not one of the times. It was a +breathless Indian summer morning, and the dust +was inches thick. It rose like a soft yellow mist +over the mushroom city of forty thousand men, +brought into being at the command of a Nation’s +leader. Dust lay like a fine yellow powder over +everything. An approaching company looked like +a cloud as it drew near. One could scarcely see the +men near by for the cloud of yellow dust everywhere. +</p> +<p>The water was bad this morning when every +man was thirsty. It had been boiled for safety and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +was served warm and tasted of disinfectants. The +breakfast had been oatmeal and salty bacon swimming +in congealed grease. The “boy” in the soldier’s +body was very low indeed that morning. +The “man” with his disillusioned eyes had come +to the front. Of course this was nothing like the +hardships they would have to endure later, but it +was enough for the present to their unaccustomed +minds, and harder because they were doing nothing +that seemed worth while—just marching about and +doing sordid duties when they were all eager for the +fray and to have it over with. They had begun to see +that they were going to have to learn to wait and +be patient, to obey blindly; they—who never had +brooked commands from any one, most of them, not +even from their own parents. They had been free +as air, and they had never been tied down to certain +company. Here they were all mixed up, college +men and foreign laborers, rich and poor, cultured +and coarse, clean and defiled, and it went pretty +hard with them all. They had come, a bundle of +prejudices and wills, and they had first to learn that +every prejudice they had been born with or cultivated, +must be given up or laid aside. They were +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +not their own. They belonged to a great machine. +The great perfect conception of the army as a +whole had not yet dawned upon them. They were +occupied with unpleasant details in the first experimental +stages. At first the discomforts seemed to +rise and obliterate even the great object for which +they had come, and discontent sat upon their faces. +</p> +<p>Off beyond the drill-field whichever way they +looked, there were barracks the color of the dust, +and long stark roads, new and rough, the color of +the barracks, with jitneys and trucks and men like +ants crawling furiously back and forth upon them +all animated by the same great necessity that had +brought the men here. Even the sky seemed yellow +like the dust. The trees were gone except at +the edges of the camp, cut down to make way for +more barracks, in even ranks like men. +</p> +<p>Out beyond the barracks mimic trenches were +being dug, and puppets hung in long lines for mock +enemies. There were skeleton bridges to cross, +walls to scale, embankments to jump over, and all, +everything, was that awful olive-drab color till the +souls of the new-made soldiers cried out within them +for a touch of scarlet or green or blue to relieve the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +dreary monotony. Sweat and dust and grime, +weariness, homesickness, humbled pride, these were +the tales of the first days of those men gathered from +all quarters who were pioneers in the first camps. +</p> +<p>Corporal Cameron marched his awkward squad +back and forth, through all the various manœuvres, +again and again, giving his orders in short, sharp +tones, his face set, his heart tortured with the +thought of the long months and years of this that +might be before him. The world seemed most unfriendly +to him these days. Not that it had ever +been over kind, yet always before his native wit and +happy temperament had been able to buoy him up +and carry him through hopefully. Now, however, +hope seemed gone. This war might last till he was +too old to carry out any of his dreams and pull himself +out of the place where fortune had dropped +him. Gradually one thought had been shaping itself +clearly out of the days he had spent in camp. +This life on earth was not all of existence. There +must be something bigger beyond. It wasn’t sane +and sensible to think that any God would allow such +waste of humanity as to let some suffer all the way +through with nothing beyond to compensate. There +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +was a meaning to the suffering. There must be. +It must be a preparation for something beyond, +infinitely better and more worth while. What was +it and how should he learn the meaning of his own +particular bit? +</p> +<p>John Cameron had never thought about religion +before in his life. He had believed in a general way +in a God, or thought he believed, and that a book +called the Bible told about Him and was the authentic +place to learn how to be good. The doubts of +the age had not touched him because he had never +had any interest in them. In the ordinary course +of events he might never have thought about them +in relation to himself until he came to die—perhaps +not then. In college he had been too much engrossed +with other things to listen to the arguments, or to +be influenced by the general atmosphere of unbelief. +He had been a boy whose inner thoughts were kept +under lock and key, and who had lived his heart +life absolutely alone, although his rich wit and bubbling +merriment had made him a general favorite +where pure fun among the fellows was going. He +loved to “rough house” as he called it, and his boyish +pranks had always been the talk of the town, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +the envied of the little boys; but no one knew his +real, serious thoughts. Not even his mother, strong +and self-repressed like himself, had known how to +get down beneath the surface and commune with +him. Perhaps she was afraid or shy. +</p> +<p>Now that he was really alone among all this +mob of men of all sorts and conditions, he had +retired more and more into the inner sanctuary of +self and tried to think out the meaning of life. From +the chaos that reigned in his mind he presently +selected a few things that he called “facts” from +which to work. These were “God, Hereafter, +Death.” These things he must reckon with. He +had been working on a wrong hypothesis all his life. +He had been trying to live for this world as if it +were the end and aim of existence, and now this war +had come and this world had suddenly melted into +chaos. It appeared that he and thousands of others +must probably give up their part in this world before +they had hardly tried it, if they would set things +right again for those that should come after. But, +even if he had lived out his ordinary years in peace +and success, and had all that life could give him, it +would not have lasted long, seventy years or so, and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +what were they after they were past? No, there +was something beyond or it all wouldn’t have been +made—this universe with the carefully thought out +details working harmoniously one with another. It +wouldn’t have been worth while otherwise. There +would have been no reason for a heart life. +</p> +<p>There were boys and men in the army who +thought otherwise. Who had accepted this life as +being all. Among these were the ones who when +they found they were taken in the draft and must +go to camp, had spent their last three weeks of freedom +drunk because they wanted to get all the +“fun” they could out of life that was left to them. +They were the men who were plunging into all the +sin they could find before they went away to fight +because they felt they had but a little time to live +and what did it matter? But John Cameron was +not one of these. His soul would not let him alone +until he had thought it all out, and he had come thus +far with these three facts, “God, Death, A Life +Hereafter.” He turned these over in his mind for +days and then he changed their order, “<i>Death, A +Life Hereafter, God</i>.” +</p> +<p>Death was the grim person he was going forth +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +to meet one of these days or months on the field of +France or Italy, or somewhere “over there.” He +was not to wait for Death to come and get him as +had been the old order. This was WAR and he was +going out to challenge Death. He was convinced +that whether Death was a servant of God or the +Devil, in some way it would make a difference with +his own personal life hereafter, how he met Death. +He was not satisfied with just meeting Death +bravely, with the ardor of patriotism in his breast, +as he heard so many about him talk in these days. +That was well so far as it went, but it did not solve +the mystery of the future life nor make him sure +how he would stand in that other world to which +Death stood ready to escort him presently. Death +might be victor over his body, but he wanted to be +sure that Death should not also kill that something +within him which he felt must live forever. He +turned it over for days and came to the conclusion +that the only one who could help him was God. +God was the beginning of it all. If there was a +God He must be available to help a soul in a time +like this. There must be a way to find God and get +the secret of life, and so be ready to meet Death +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +that Death should not conquer anything but the +body. How could one find God? Had anybody +ever found Him? Did anyone really <i>think</i> they +had found Him? These were questions that beat +in upon his soul day after day as he drilled his men +and went through the long hard hours of discipline, +or lay upon his straw tick at night while a hundred +and fifty other men about him slept. +</p> +<p>His mother’s secret attempts at religion had +been too feeble and too hidden in her own breast to +have made much of an impression upon him. She +had only <i>hoped</i> her faith was founded upon a rock. +She had not <i>known</i>. And so her buffeted soul had +never given evidence to her son of hidden holy +refuge where he might flee with her in time of need. +</p> +<p>Now and then the vision of a girl blurred across +his thoughts uncertainly, like a bright moth hovering +in the distance whose shadow fell across his +dusty path. But it was far away and vague, and +only a glance in her eyes belonged to him. She +was not of his world. +</p> +<p>He looked up to the yellow sky through the +yellow dust, and his soul cried out to find the way +to God before he had to meet Death, but the heavens +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +seemed like molten brass. Not that he was afraid +of death with a physical fear, but that his soul +recoiled from being conquered by it and he felt convinced +that there was a way to meet it with a smile +of assurance if only he could find it out. He had +read that people had met it that way. Was it all +their imagination? The mere illusion of a fanatical +brain? Well, he would try to find out God. He +would put himself in the places where God ought to +be, and when he saw any indication that God was +there he would cry out until he made God hear him! +</p> +<p>The day he came to that conclusion was Sunday +and he went over to the Y.M.C.A. Auditorium. +They were having a Mary Pickford moving picture +show there. If he had happened to go at any time +during the morning he might have heard some fine +sermons and perhaps have found the right man to +help him, but this was evening and the men were +being amused. +</p> +<p>He stood for a few moments and watched the +pretty show. The sunlight on Mary’s beautiful +hair, as it fell glimmering through the trees in the +picture reminded him of the red-gold lights on +Ruth Macdonald’s hair the morning he left home, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +and with a sigh he turned away and walked to the +edge of camp where the woods were still standing. +</p> +<p>Alone he looked up to the starry sky. Amusement +was not what he wanted now. He was in +search of something vague and great that would +satisfy, and give him a reason for being and suffering +and dying perhaps. He called it God because +he had no other name for it. Red-gold hair might +be for others but not for him. He might not take +it where he would and he would not take it where it +lay easy to get. If he had been in the same class +with some other fellows he knew he would have +wasted no time on follies. He would have gone for +the very highest, finest woman. But there! What +was the use! Besides, even if he had been—and he +had had—every joy of life here was but a passing +show and must sometime come to an end. And at the +end would be this old problem. Sometime he would +have had to realize it, even if war had not come and +brought the revelation prematurely. What was it +that he wanted? How could he find out how to die? +Where was God? +</p> +<p>But the stars were high and cold and gave no +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +answer, and the whispering leaves, although they +soothed him, sighed and gave no help. +</p> +<p>The feeling was still with him next morning +when the mail was distributed. There would be +nothing for him. His mother had written her +weekly letter and it had reached him the day before. +He could expect nothing for several days now. +Other men were getting sheaves of letters. How +friendless he seemed among them all. One had a +great chocolate cake that a girl had sent him and +the others were crowding around to get a bit. It +was doubtful if the laughing owner got more than +a bite himself. He might have been one of the +group if he had chosen. They all liked him well +enough, although they knew him very little as yet, +for he had kept much to himself. But he turned +sharply away from them and went out. Somehow +he was not in the mood for fun. He felt he must be +growing morbid but he could not throw it off that +morning. It all seemed so hopeless, the things +he had tried to do in life and the slow progress +he had made upward; and now to have it all +blocked by war! +</p> +<p>None of the other fellows ever dreamed that he +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +was lonely, big, husky, handsome fellow that he +was, with a continuous joke on his lips for those he +had chosen as associates, with an arm of iron and +a jaw that set like steel, grim and unmistakably +brave. The awkward squad as they wrathfully +obeyed his stern orders would have told you he had +no heart, the way he worked them, and would not +have believed that he was just plain homesick and +lonesome for some one to care for him. +</p> +<p>He was not hungry that day when the dinner +call came, and flung himself down under a scrub +oak outside the barracks while the others rushed in +with their mess kits ready for beans or whatever +was provided for them. He was glad that they +were gone, glad that he might have the luxury of +being miserable all alone for a few minutes. He +felt strangely as if he were going to cry, and yet +he didn’t know what about. Perhaps he was going +to be sick. That would be horrible down in that +half finished hospital with hardly any equipment +yet! He must brace up and put an end to such +softness. It was all in the idea anyway. +</p> +<p>Then a great hand came down upon his shoulder +with a mighty slap and he flung himself bolt upright +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +with a frown to find his comrade whose bunk +was next to his in the barracks. He towered over +Cameron polishing his tin plate with a vigor. +</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you, you boob? +There’s roast beef and its good. Cooky saved a +piece for you. I told him you’d come. Go in and +get it quick! There’s a letter for you, too, in the +office. I’d have brought it only I was afraid I would +miss you. Here, take my mess kit and hurry! +There’s some cracker-jack pickles, too, little sweet +ones! Step lively, or some one will swipe them all!” +</p> +<p>Cameron arose, accepted his friend’s dishes and +sauntered into the mess hall. The letter couldn’t be +very important. His mother had no time to write +again soon, and there was no one else. It was likely +an advertisement or a formal greeting from some +of the organizations at home. They did that about +fortnightly, the Red Cross, the Woman’s Club, The +Emergency Aid, The Fire Company. It was kind +in them but he wasn’t keen about it just then. It +could wait until he got his dinner. They didn’t have +roast beef every day, and now that he thought about +it he was hungry. +</p> +<p>He almost forgot the letter after dinner until a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +comrade reminded him, handing over a thick delicately +scented envelope with a silver crest on the +back. The boys got off their kidding about “the +girl he’d left behind him” and he answered with +his old good-natured grin that made them love him, +letting them think he had all kinds of girls, for the +dinner had somewhat restored his spirits, but he +crumpled the letter into his pocket and got away +into the woods to read it. +</p> +<p>Deliberately he walked down the yellow road, +up over the hill by the signal corps tents, across +Wig-Wag Park to the woods beyond, and sat down +on a log with his letter. He told himself that it was +likely one of those fool letters the fellows were getting +all the time from silly girls who were uniform-crazy. +He wouldn’t answer it, of course, and he +felt a kind of contempt with himself for being weak +enough to read it even to satisfy his curiosity. +</p> +<p>Then he tore open the envelope half angrily and +a faint whiff of violets floated out to him. Over his +head a meadow lark trilled a long sweet measure, +and glad surprise suddenly entered into his soul. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +<h2>V</h2> +</div> + +<p>The letter was written in a fine beautiful hand +and even before he saw the silver monogram at the +top, he knew who was the writer, though he did not +even remember to have seen the writing before: +</p> +<div style='font-size:smaller'> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Friend:</span> +</p> +<p>I have hesitated a long time before writing because I do +not know that I have the right to call you a friend, or even an +acquaintance in the commonly accepted sense of that term. It +is so long since you and I went to school together, and we +have been so widely separated since then that perhaps you do +not even remember me, and may consider my letter an intrusion. +I hope not, for I should hate to rank with the girls who are +writing to strangers under the license of mistaken patriotism. +</p> +<p>My reason for writing you is that a good many years ago +you did something very nice and kind for me one day, in fact +you helped me twice, although I don’t suppose you knew it. +Then the other day, when you were going to camp and I sat +in my car and watched you, it suddenly came over me that you +were doing it again; this time a great big wonderful thing +for me; and doing it just as quietly and inconsequentially as you +did it before; and all at once I realized how splendid it was +and wanted to thank you. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span></p> +<p>It came over me, too, that I had never thanked you for the +other times, and very likely you never dreamed that you had +done anything at all. +</p> +<p>You see I was only a little girl, very much frightened, +because Chuck Woodcock had teased me about my curls and +said that he was going to catch me and cut them off, and send +me home to my aunt that way, and she would turn me out of +the house. He had been frightening me for several days, so +that I was afraid to go to school alone, and yet I would not +tell my aunt because I was afraid she would take me away +from the Public School and send me to a Private School which +I did not want. But that day I had seen Chuck Woodcock +steal in behind the hedge, ahead of the girls. The others were +ahead of me and I was all out of breath—running to catch up +because I was afraid to pass him alone; and just as I got near +two of them,—Mary Wurts and Caroline Meadows, you remember +them, don’t you?—they gave a scream and pitched headlong +on the sidewalk. They had tripped over a wire he had stretched +from the tree to the hedge. I stopped short and got behind a +tree, and I remember how the tears felt in my throat, but I +was afraid to let them out because Chuck would call me a crybaby +and I hated that. And just then you came along behind +me and jumped through the hedge and caught Chuck and gave +him an awful whipping. “Licking” I believe we called it +then. I remember how condemned I felt as I ran by the hedge +and knew in my heart that I was glad you were hurting him +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span> +because he had been so cruel to me. He used to pull my curls +whenever he sat behind me in recitation. +</p> +<p>I remember you came in to school late with your hair all +mussed up beautifully, and a big tear in your coat, and a streak +of mud on your face. I was so worried lest the teacher would +find out you had been fighting and make you stay after school. +Because you see I knew in my heart that you had been winning +a battle for me, and if anybody had to stay after school I +wished it could be me because of what you had done for me. +But you came in laughing as you always did, and looking as +if nothing in the world unusual had happened, and when you +passed my desk you threw before me the loveliest pink rose bud +I ever saw. That was the second thing you did for me. +</p> +<p>Perhaps you won’t understand how nice that was, either, +for you see you didn’t know how unhappy I had been. The +girls hadn’t been very friendly with me. They told me I was +“stuck up,” and they said I was too young to be in their +classes anyway and ought to go to Kindergarten. It was all +very hard for me because I longed to be big and have them +for my friends. I was very lonely in that great big house +with only my aunt and grandfather for company. But the +girls wouldn’t be friends at all until they saw you give me that +rose, and that turned the tide. They were crazy about you, +every one of them, and, they made up to me after that and told +me their secrets and shared their lunch and we had great times. +And it was all because you gave me the rose that day. The +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +rose itself was lovely and I was tremendously happy over it +for its own sake, but it meant a whole lot to me besides, and +opened the little world of school to my longing feet. I always +wanted to thank you for it, but you looked as if you didn’t +want me to, so I never dared; and lately I wasn’t quite sure +you knew me, because you never looked my way any more. +</p> +<p>But when I saw you standing on the platform the other +day with the other drafted men, it all came over me how you +were giving up the life you had planned to go out and fight +for me and other girls like me. I hadn’t thought of the war +that way before, although, of course, I had heard that thought +expressed in speeches; but it never struck into my heart until +I saw the look on your face. It was a kind of “knightliness,” +if there is such a word, and when I thought about it I realized +it was the very same look you had worn when you burst +through the hedge after Chuck Woodcock, and again when +you came back and threw that rose on my desk. Although, +you had a big, broad boy’s-grin on your face then, and were +chewing gum I remember quite distinctly; and the other day +you looked so serious and sorry as if it meant a great deal to +you to go, but you were giving up everything gladly without +even thinking of hesitating. The look on your face was a man’s +look, not a boy’s. +</p> +<p>It has meant so much to me to realize this last great thing +that you are doing for me and for the other girls of our +country that I had to write and tell you how much I appreciate it. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></p> +<p>I have been wondering whether some one has been knitting +you a sweater yet, and the other things that they knit for soldiers; +and if they haven’t, whether you would let me send them +to you? It is the only thing I can do for you who have done so +much for me. +</p> +<p>I hope you will not think I am presuming to have written +this on the strength of a childish acquaintance. I wish you all +honors that can come to you on such a quest as yours, and I +had almost said all good luck, only that that word sounds too +frivolous and pagan for such a serious matter; so I will say +all safety for a swift accomplishment of your task and a swift +homecoming. I used to think when I was a little child that +nothing could ever hurt you or make you afraid, and I cannot +help feeling now that you will come through the fire unscathed. +May I hope to hear from you about the sweater and things? +And may I sign myself +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; margin-right:8em;'>Your friend? </p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Ruth Macdonald.</span></p> +</div> + +</div> + +<p>John Cameron lifted his eyes from the paper at +last and looked up at the sky. Had it ever been so +blue before? At the trees. What whispering wonders +of living green! Was that only a bird that +was singing that heavenly song—a meadow lark, +not an angel? Why had he never appreciated +meadow larks before? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p> +<p>He rested his head back against a big oak and +his soldier’s hat fell off on the ground. He closed +his eyes and the burden of loneliness that had borne +down upon him all these weeks in the camp lifted +from his heart. Then he tried to realize what had +come to him. Ruth Macdonald, the wonder and +admiration of his childhood days, the admired and +envied of the home town, the petted beauty at whose +feet every man fell, the girl who had everything that +wealth could purchase! She had remembered the +little old rose he had dared to throw on her desk, +and had bridged the years with this letter! +</p> +<p>He was carried back in spirit to the day he left +for camp. To the look in her eyes as he moved +away on the train. The look had been real then, +and not just a fleeting glance helped out by his +fevered imagination. There had been true friendliness +in her eyes. She had intended to say good-bye +to him! She had put him on a level with her +own beautiful self. She had knighted him, as it +were, and sent him forth! Even the war had become +different since she chose to think he was going +forth to fight her battles. What a sacred trust! +</p> +<p>Afar in the distance a bugle sounded that called +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +to duty. He had no idea how the time had flown. +He glanced at his wrist watch and was amazed. +He sprang to his feet and strode over the ground, +but the way no longer seemed dusty and blinded +with sunshine. It shone like a path of glory before +his willing feet, and he went to his afternoon round +of duties like a new man. He had a friend, a real +friend, one that he had known a long time. There +was no fear that she was just writing to him to get +one more soldier at her feet as some girls would +have done. Her letter was too frank and sincere +to leave a single doubt about what she meant. He +would take her at her word. +</p> +<p>Sometime during the course of the afternoon it +occurred to him to look at the date of the letter, and +he found to his dismay that it had been written +nearly four weeks before and had been travelling +around through various departments in search of +him, because it had not the correct address. He +readily guessed that she had not wanted to ask for +his company and barracks; she would not have +known who to ask. She did not know his mother, +and who else was there? His old companions were +mostly gone to France or camp somewhere. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p> +<p>And now, since all this time had elapsed she +would think he had not cared, had scorned her letter +or thought it unmaidenly! He was filled with dismay +and anxiety lest he had hurt her frankness by +his seeming indifference. And the knitted things, +the wonderful things that she had made with her +fair hands! Would she have given them to some +one else by this time? Of course, it meant little to +her save as a kind of acknowledgment for something +she thought he had done for her as a child, but +they meant so much to him! Much more than they +ought to do, he knew, for he was in no position to +allow himself to become deeply attached to even +the handiwork of any girl in her position. However, +nobody need ever know how much he cared, +had always cared, for the lovely little girl with her +blue eyes, her long curls, her shy sweet smile and +modest ways, who had seemed to him like an angel +from heaven when he was a boy. She had said he +did not know that he was helping her when he +burst through the hedge on the cowering Chuck +Woodcock; and he would likely never dare to tell +her that it was because he saw her fright and saw +her hide behind that tree that he went to investigate +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +and so was able to administer a just punishment. +He had picked that rose from the extreme west +corner of a great petted rose bush on the Wainwright +lawn, reaching through an elaborate iron +fence to get it as he went cross-lots back to school. +He would call it stealing now to do that same, but +then it had been in the nature of a holy rite offered +to a vestal virgin. Yet he must have cast it down +with the grin of an imp, boorish urchin that he +was; and he remembered blushing hotly in the dark +afterwards at his presumption, as he thought of it +alone at night. And all the time she had been liking +it. The little girl—the little sweet girl! She had +kept it in her heart and remembered it! +</p> +<p>His heart was light as air as he went back to +the barracks for retreat. A miracle had been +wrought for him which changed everything. No, he +was not presuming on a friendly letter. Maybe there +would be fellows who would think there wasn’t much +in just a friendly letter to a lonely soldier, and a +sweater or two more or less. But then they would +never have known what it was to be so lonely for +friendship, real friendship, as he was. +</p> +<p>He would hurry through supper and get to the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +Y.M.C.A. hut to write her an answer. He would +explain how the letter had been delayed and say he +hoped she had not given the things away to someone +else. He began planning sentences as he stood +at attention during the captain’s inspection at retreat. +Somehow the captain was tiresomely particular +about the buttons and pocket flaps and little +details to-night. He waited impatiently for the +command to break ranks, and was one of the first +at the door of the mess hall waiting for supper, his +face alight, still planning what he would say in that +letter and wishing he could get some fine stationery +to write upon; wondering if there was any to be had +with his caduces on it. +</p> +<p>At supper he bubbled with merriment. An old +schoolmate might have thought him rejuvenated. +He wore his schoolboy grin and rattled off puns and +jokes, keeping the mess hall in a perfect roar. +</p> +<p>At last he was out in the cool of the evening with +the wonderful sunset off in the west, on his way to +the Y.M.C.A. hut. He turned a corner swinging +into the main road and there, coming toward +him, not twenty feet away, he saw Lieutenant +Wainwright! +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +<h2>VI</h2> +</div> + +<p>There was no possible way to avoid meeting +him. John Cameron knew that with the first glance. +He also knew that Wainwright had recognized him +at once and was lifting his chin already with that +peculiar, disagreeable tilt of triumph that had +always been so maddening to one who knew the +small mean nature of the man. +</p> +<p>Of course, there was still time to turn deliberately +about and flee in the other direction, but that +would be all too obvious, and an open confession +of weakness. John Cameron was never at any +time a coward. +</p> +<p>His firm lips set a trifle more sternly than usual, +his handsome head was held high with fine military +bearing. He came forward without faltering for +even so much as the fraction of a waver. There +was not a flicker in his eyes set straight ahead. One +would never have known from his looks that he +recognized the oncoming man, or had so much as +realized that an officer was approaching, yet his +brain was doing some rapid calculation. He had +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +said in his heart if not openly that he would never +salute this man. He had many times in their home +town openly passed him without salute because he +had absolutely no respect for him, and felt that he +owed it to his sense of the fitness of things not to +give him deference, but that was a different matter +from camp. He knew that Wainwright was in a +position to do him injury, and no longer stood in +fear of a good thrashing from him as at home, because +here he could easily have the offender put in +the guard house and disgraced forever. Nothing, +of course, would delight him more than thus to +humiliate his sworn enemy. Yet Cameron walked +on knowing that he had resolved not to salute him. +</p> +<p>It was not merely pride in his own superiority. +It was contempt for the nature of the man, for his +low contemptible plots and tricks, and cunning +ways, for his entire lack of principle, and his utter +selfishness and heartlessness, that made Cameron +feel justified in his attitude toward Wainwright. +“He is nothing but a Hun at heart,” he told himself +bitterly. +</p> +<p>But the tables were turned. Wainwright was +no longer in his home town where his detestable +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +pranks had goaded many of his neighbors and fellowtownsmen +into a cordial hatred of him. He was +in a great military camp, vested with a certain +amount of authority, with the right to report those +under him; who in turn could not retaliate by telling +what they knew of him because it was a court-martial +offense for a private to report an officer. +Well, naturally the United States was not supposed +to have put men in authority who needed reporting. +Cameron, of course, realized that these things had +to be in order to maintain military discipline. But +it was inevitable that some unworthy ones should +creep in, and Wainwright was surely one of those +unworthy ones. He would not bend to him, officer, +or no officer. What did he care what happened to +himself? Who was there to care but his mother? +And she would understand if the news should happen +to penetrate to the home town, which was hardly +likely. Those who knew him would not doubt him, +those who did not mattered little. There was really +no one who would care. Stay! A letter crackled +in his breast pocket and a cold chill of horror +struggled up from his heart. Suppose <i>she</i> should +hear of it! Yes, he would care for that! +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span></p> +<p>They were almost meeting now and Cameron’s +eyes were straight ahead staring hard at the big +green shape of the theatre a quarter of a mile away. +His face under its usual control showed no sign of +the tumult in his heart, which flamed with a sudden +despair against a fate that had placed him in such +a desperate situation. If there were a just power +who controlled the affairs of men, how could it let +such things happen to one who had always tried to +live up upright life? It seemed for that instant +as if all the unfairness and injustice of his own +hard life had culminated in that one moment +when he would have to do or not do and bear +the consequences. +</p> +<p>Then suddenly out from the barracks close at +hand with brisk step and noble bearing came Captain +La Rue, swinging down the walk into the road +straight between the two men and stopped short in +front of Cameron with a light of real welcome in his +eyes, as he lifted his hand to answer the salute which +the relieved Cameron instantly flashed at him. +</p> +<p>In that second Lieutenant Wainwright flung +past them with a curt salute to the higher officer and +a glare at the corporal which the latter seemed not +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span> +to see. It was so simultaneous with Cameron’s +salute of La Rue that nobody on earth could say +that the salute had not included the lieutenant, yet +both the lieutenant and the corporal knew that it +had not; and Wainwright’s brow was dark with +intention as he turned sharply up the walk to the +barracks which the captain had just left. +</p> +<p>“I was just coming in search of you, Cameron,” +said the captain with a twinkle in his eyes, and his +voice was clearly distinct to Wainwright as he loitered +in the barracks doorway to listen, “I went +down to Washington yesterday and put in the +strongest plea I knew how for your transfer. I +hope it will go through all right. There is no one +else out for the job and you are just the man +for the place. It will be a great comfort to have +you with me.” +</p> +<p>A few more words and the busy man moved on +eluding Cameron’s earnest thanks and leaving him +to pursue his course to the Y.M.C.A. hut with a +sense of soothing and comfort. It never occurred +to either of them that their brief conversation +had been overheard, and would not have disturbed +them if it had. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span></p> +<p>Lieutenant Wainwright lingered on the steps +of the barracks with a growing curiosity and satisfaction. +The enemy were playing right into his +hands: <i>both</i> the enemy—for he hated Captain La Rue +as sin always hates the light. +</p> +<p>He lounged about the barracks in deep thought +for a few minutes and then made a careful toilet +and went out. +</p> +<p>He knew exactly where to go and how to use his +influence, which was not small, although not personal. +It was characteristic of the man that it made +no difference to him that the power he was wielding +was a borrowed power whose owner would have +been the last man to have done what he was about +to do with it. He had never in his life hesitated +about getting whatever he wanted by whatever +means presented itself. He was often aware that +people gave him what he wanted merely to get +rid of him, but this did not alloy his pleasure in +his achievement. +</p> +<p>He was something of a privileged character in +the high place to which he betook himself, on account +of the supreme regard which was held for the uncle, +a mighty automobile king, through whose influence +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +he had obtained his commission. So far he had not +availed himself of his privileges too often and had +therefore not as yet outworn his welcome, for he +was a true diplomat. He entered this evening with +just the right shade of delicate assurance and +humble affrontery to assure him a cordial welcome, +and gracefully settled himself into the friendliness +that was readily extended to him. He was versed in +all the ways of the world and when he chose could +put up a good appearance. He knew that for the +sake of his father’s family and more especially because +of his uncle’s high standing, this great official +whom he was calling upon was bound to be nice to +him for a time. So he bided his time till a few +other officials had left and his turn came. +</p> +<p>The talk was all personal, a few words about his +relatives and then questions about himself, his commission, +how he liked it, and how things were going +with him. Mere form and courtesy, but he knew +how to use the conversation for his own ends: +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m getting along fine and dandy!” he declared +effusively, “I’m just crazy about camp! I +like the life! But I’ll tell you what makes me tired. +It’s these little common guys running around fussing +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +about their jobs and trying to get a lot of pull +to get into some other place. Now there’s an instance +of that in our company, a man from my home +town, no account whatever and never was, but he’s +got it in his head that he’s a square peg in a round +hole and he wants to be transferred. He shouts +about it from morning till night trying to get everybody +to help him, and at last I understand he’s hoodwinked +one captain into thinking he’s the salt of +the earth, and they are plotting together to get him +transferred. I happened to overhear them talking +about it just now, how they are going to this one +and that one in Washington to get things fixed to +suit them. They think they’ve got the right dope +on things all right and it’s going through for him +to get his transfer. It makes me sick. He’s no +more fit for a commission than my dog, not as fit, for +he could at least obey orders. This fellow never did +anything but what he pleased. I’ve known him +since we were kids and never liked him. But he has +a way with him that gets people till they understand +him. It’s too bad when the country needs real men +to do their duty that a fellow like that can get a +commission when he is utterly inefficient besides +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +being a regular breeder of trouble. But, of course, +I can’t tell anybody what I know about him.” +</p> +<p>“I guess you needn’t worry, Wainwright. They +can’t make any transfers without sending them up +to me, and you may be good and sure I’m not transferring +anybody just now without a good reason, no +matter who is asking it. He’s in your company, is +he? And where does he ask to be transferred? Just +give me his name. I’ll make a note of it. If it +ever comes up I’ll know how to finish him pretty +suddenly. Though I doubt if it does. People are +not pulling wires just now. This is <i>war</i> and +everything means business. However, if I find +there has been wire-pulling I shall know how to +deal with it summarily. It’s a court-martial offense, +you know.” +</p> +<p>They passed on to other topics, and Wainwright +with his little eyes gleaming triumphantly soon +took himself out into the starlight knowing that +he had done fifteen minutes’ good work and not +wishing to outdo it. He strolled contentedly back +to officers’ quarters wearing a more complacent +look on his heavy features. He would teach John +Cameron to ignore him! +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span></p> +<p>Meantime John Cameron with his head among +the stars walked the dusty camp streets and forgot +the existence of Lieutenant Wainwright. A glow +of gratitude had flooded his soul at sight of his beloved +captain, whom he hoped soon to be able to call +<i>his</i> captain. Unconsciously he walked with more +self-respect as the words of confidence and trust +rang over again in his ears. Unconsciously the little +matters of personal enmity became smaller, of less +importance, beside the greater things of life in which +he hoped soon to have a real part. If he got this +transfer it meant a chance to work with a great man +in a great way that would not only help the war but +would be of great value to him in this world after +the war was over. It was good to have the friendship +of a man like that, fine, clean, strong, intellectual, +kind, just, human, gentle as a woman, yet stern +against all who deviated from the path of right. +</p> +<p>The dusk was settling into evening and twinkling +lights gloomed out amid the misty, dust-laden +air. Snatches of wild song chorused out from +open windows: +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>She’s my lady, my baby,</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2em;'>She’s cock-eyed, she’s crazy.</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span></div> +<p>The twang of a banjo trailed in above the +voices, with a sound of scuffling. Loud laughter +broke the thread of the song leaving <i>“Mary Ann!”</i> +to soar out alone. Then the chorus took it up +once more: +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>All her teeth are false</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2em;'>From eating Rochelle salts—</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>She’s my freckled-faced, consumptive MARY ANN-N-N!</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>Cameron turned in at the quiet haven of the +Y.M.C.A. hut, glad to leave the babel sounds outside. +Somehow they did not fit his mood to-night, +although there were times when he could roar the +outlandish gibberish with the best of them. But +to-night he was on such a wonderful sacred errand +bent, that it seemed as though he wanted to keep his +soul from contact with rougher things lest somehow +it might get out of tune and so unfit him for +the task before him. +</p> +<p>And then when he had seated himself before the +simple desk he looked at the paper with discontent. +True, it was all that was provided and it was good +enough for ordinary letters, but this letter to her +was different. He wished he had something better. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +To think he was really writing to <i>her</i>! And now +that he was here with the paper before him what +was he to say? Words seemed to have deserted +him. How should he address her? +</p> +<p>It was not until he had edged over to the end +of the bench away from everybody else and taken +out the precious letter that he gained confidence and +took up his pen: +</p> +<p>“My dear friend:——” Why, he would call +her his friend, of course, that was what she had +called him. And as he wrote he seemed to see her +again as she sat in her car by the station the day he +started on his long, long trail and their eyes had +met. Looking so into her eyes again, he wrote +straight from his soul: +</p> +<div style='font-size:smaller'> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Friend</span>: +</p> +<p>Your letter has just reached me after travelling about for +weeks. I am not going to try to tell you how wonderful it is +to me to have it. In fact, the wonder began that morning I +left home when you smiled at me and waved a friendly farewell. +It was a great surprise to me. I had not supposed until that +moment that you remembered my existence. Why should you? +And it has never been from lack of desire to do so that I +failed to greet you when we passed in the street. I did not +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +think that I, a mere little hoodlum from your infant days, +had a right to intrude upon your grown-up acquaintance without +a hint from you that such recognition would be agreeable. I +never blamed you for not speaking of course. Perhaps I +didn’t give you the chance. I simply thought I had grown +out of your memory as was altogether natural. It was indeed +a pleasant experience to see that light of friendliness in your +eyes at the station that day, and to know it was a real personal +recognition and not just a patriotic gush of enthusiasm for the +whole shabby lot of us draftees starting out to an unknown +future. I thanked you in my heart for that little bit of personal +friendliness but I never expected to have an opportunity to +thank you in words, nor to have the friendliness last after I +had gone away. When your letter came this morning it sure +was some pleasant surprise. I know you have a great many +friends, and plenty of people to write letters to, but somehow +there was a real note of comradeship in the one you wrote me, +not as if you just felt sorry for me because I had to go off to war +and fight and maybe get killed. It was as if the conditions +of the times had suddenly swept away a lot of foolish conventions +of the world, which may all have their good use perhaps +at times, but at a time like this are superfluous, and you had +just gravely and sweetly offered me an old friend’s sympathy +and good will. As such I have taken it and am rejoicing in it. +</p> +<p>Don’t make any mistake about this, however. I never have +forgotten you or the rose! I stole it from the Wainwright’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +yard after I got done licking Chuck, and I had a fight with +Hal Wainwright over it which almost finished the rose, and +nearly got me expelled from school before I got through +with it. Hal told his mother and she took it to the school +board. I was a pretty tough little rascal in those days I guess +and no doubt needed some lickings myself occasionally. But +I remember I almost lost my nerve when I got back to school +that day and came within an ace of stuffing the rose in my +pocket instead of throwing it on your desk. I never dreamed +the rose would be anything to you. It was only my way of +paying tribute to you. You seemed to me something like a +rose yourself, just dropped down out of heaven you know, you +were so little and pink and gold with such great blue eyes. +Pardon me. I don’t mean to be too personal. You don’t mind +a big hobbledehoy’s admiration, do you? You were only a baby; +but I would have licked any boy in town that lifted a word or +a finger against you. And to think you really needed my help! +It certainly would have lifted me above the clouds to have +known it then! +</p> +<p>And now about this war business. Of course it is a rough +job, and somebody had to do it for the world. I was glad and +willing to do my part; but it makes a different thing out of it +to be called a knight, and I guess I’ll look at it a little more +respectfully now. If a life like mine can protect a life like +yours from some of the things those Germans are putting over +I’ll gladly give it. I’ve sized it up that a man couldn’t do a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +bigger thing for the world anyhow he planned it than to make +the world safe for a life like yours; so me for what they call +“the supreme sacrifice,” and it won’t be any sacrifice at all if +it helps you! +</p> +<p>No, I haven’t got a sweater or those other things that go +with those that you talk about. Mother hasn’t time to knit +and I never was much of a lady’s man, I guess you know if +you know me at all. Or perhaps you don’t. But anyhow I’d +be wonderfully pleased to wear a sweater that you knit, +although it seems a pretty big thing for you to do for me. +However, if knitting is your job in this war, and I wouldn’t be +robbing any other better fellow, I certainly would just love +to have it. +</p> +<p>If you could see this big dusty monotonous olive-drab camp +you would know what a bright spot your letter and the thought +of a real friend has made in it. I suppose you have been thinking +all this time that I was neglectful because I didn’t answer, +but it was all the fault of someone who gave you the wrong +address. I am hoping you will forgive me for the delay and +that some day you will have time to write to me again. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; margin-right:8em;'>Sincerely and proudly,</p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; margin-right:4em;'>Your knight,</p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>John Cameron</span>.</p> +</div> + +</div> + +<p>As he walked back to his barracks in the starlight +his heart was filled with a great peace. What +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +a thing it was to have been able to speak to her on +paper and let her know his thoughts of her. It was +as if after all these years he had been able to pluck +another trifling rose and lay it at her lovely feet. +Her knight! It was the fulfillment of all his boyish +dreams! +</p> +<p>He had entrusted his letter to the Y.M.C.A. +man to mail as he was going out of camp that night +and would mail it in Baltimore, ensuring it an immediate +start. Now he began to speculate whether +it would reach its destination by morning and be +delivered with the morning mail. He felt as excited +and impatient as a child over it. +</p> +<p>Suddenly a voice above him in a barracks window +rang out with a familiar guffaw, and the words: +</p> +<p>“Why, man, I can’t! Didn’t I tell you I’m +going to marry Ruth Macdonald before I go! +There wouldn’t be time for that and the other, too!” +</p> +<p>Something in his heart grew cold with pain and +horror, and something in his motive power stopped +suddenly and halted his feet on the sidewalk in the +grade cut below the officers’ barracks. +</p> +<p>“Aw! A week more won’t make any difference,” +drawled another familiar voice, “I say, Hal, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +she’s just crazy about you and you could get no end +of information out of her if you tried. All she asks +is that you tell what you know about a few little +things that don’t matter anyway.” +</p> +<p>“But I tell you I can’t, man. If Ruth found +out about the girl the mischief would be to pay. She +wouldn’t stand for another girl—not that kind of a +girl, you know, and there wouldn’t be time for me +to explain and smooth things over before I go across +the Pond. I tell you I’ve made up my mind +about this.” +</p> +<p>The barracks door slammed shut on the voices +and Corporal Cameron’s heart gave a great jump +upwards in his breast and went on. Slowly, dizzily +he came to his senses and moved on automatically +toward his own quarters. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +<h2>VII</h2> +</div> + +<p>He had passed the quarters of the signal corps +before the thought of the letter he had just written +came to his mind. Then he stopped short, gave one +agonizing glance toward his barracks only a few +feet away, realized that it was nearly time for bed +call and that he could not possibly make it if he +went back, then whirled about and started out on a +wild run like a madman over the ground he had just +traveled. He was not conscious of carrying on a +train of thought as he ran, his only idea was to get +to the Y.M.C.A. hut before the man had left with +the letter. Never should his childhood’s enemy +have that letter to sneer over! +</p> +<p>All the pleasant phrases which had flowed from +his pen so easily but a few moments before seemed +to flare now in letters of fire before his blood-shot +eyes as he bounded over the ground. To think he +should have lowered himself and weakened his position +so, as to write to the girl who was soon to be the +wife of that contemptible puppy! +</p> +<p>The bugles began to sound taps here and there +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +in the barracks as he flew past, but they meant nothing +to him. Breathless he arrived at the Y.M.C.A. +hut just as the last light was being put out. A dark +figure stood on the steps as he halted entirely +winded, and tried to gasp out: “Where is Mr. +Hathaway?” to the assistant who was locking up. +</p> +<p>“Oh, he left five minutes after you did,” said +the man with a yawn. “The rector came by in his +car and took him along. Say, you’ll be late getting +in, Corporal, taps sounded almost five minutes ago.” +</p> +<p>With a low exclamation of disgust and dismay +Cameron turned and started back again in a long +swinging stride, his face flushing hotly in the dark +over his double predicament. He had gone back +for nothing and got himself subject to a calling +down, a thing which he had avoided scrupulously +since coming to camp, but he was so miserable over +the other matter that it seemed a thing of no moment +to him now. He was altogether occupied with +metaphorically kicking himself for having answered +that letter; for having mailed it so soon without ever +stopping to read it over or give himself a chance to +reconsider. He might have known, he might have +remembered that Ruth Macdonald was no comrade +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +for him; that she was a neighbor of the Wainwright’s +and would in all probability be a friend of +the lieutenant’s. Not for all that he owned in the +world or hoped to own, would he have thus laid +himself open to the possibility of having Wainwright +know any of his inner thoughts. He would +rather have lived and died unknown, unfriended, +than that this should come to pass. +</p> +<p>And she? The promised wife of Wainwright! +Could it be? She must have written him that letter +merely from a fine friendly patronage. All right, +of course, from her standpoint, but from his, gall +and wormwood to his proud spirit. Oh, that he had +not answered it! He might have known! He +should have remembered that she had never been +in his class. Not that his people were not as good +as hers, and maybe better, so far as intellectual +attainments were concerned; but his had lost their +money, had lived a quiet life, and in her eyes and +the eyes of her family were very likely as the mere +dust of the earth. And now, just now when war +had set its seal of sacrifice upon all young men in +uniform, he as a soldier had risen to a kind of +deified class set apart for hero worship, nothing +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +more. It was not her fault that she had been +brought up that way, and that he seemed so to her, +and nothing more. She had shown her beautiful +spirit in giving him the tribute that seemed worthiest +to her view. He would not blame her, nor +despise her, but he would hold himself aloof as he +had done in the past, and show her that he wanted +no favors, no patronage. He was sufficient to himself. +What galled him most was to think that perhaps +in the intimacy of their engagement she might +show his letter to Wainwright, and they would laugh +together over him, a poor soldier, presuming to +write as he had done to a girl in her station. They +would laugh together, half pitifully—at least the +woman would be pitiful, the man was likely to sneer. +He could see his hateful mustache curl now with +scorn and his little eyes twinkle. And he would +tell her all the lies he had tried to put upon him in +the past. He would give her a wrong idea of his +character. He would rejoice and triumph to do so! +Oh, the bitterness of it! It overwhelmed him so +that the little matter of getting into his bunk without +being seen by the officer in charge was utterly +overlooked by him. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span></p> +<p>Perhaps some good angel arranged the way for +him so that he was able to slip past the guards without +being challenged. Two of the guards were talking +at the corner of the barracks with their backs to +him at the particular second when he came in sight. +A minute later they turned back to their monotonous +march and the shadow of the vanishing corporal +had just disappeared from among the other dark +shadows of the night landscape. Inside the barracks +another guard welcomed him eagerly without +questioning his presence there at that hour: +</p> +<p>“Say, Cam, how about day after to-morrow? +Are you free? Will you take my place on guard? +I want to go up to Philadelphia and see my girl, +and I’m sure of a pass, but I’m listed for guard +duty. I’ll do the same for you sometime.” +</p> +<p>“Sure!” said Cameron heartily, and swung up +stairs with a sudden realization that he had been +granted a streak of good luck. Yet somehow he +did not seem to care much. +</p> +<p>He tiptoed over to his bunk among the rows of +sleeping forms, removed from it a pair of shoes, +three books, some newspapers and a mess kit which +some lazy comrades had left there, and threw himself +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +down with scant undressing. It seemed as +though a great calamity had befallen him, although +when he tried to reason it out he could not understand +how things were so much changed from what +they had been that morning before he received the +letter. Ruth Macdonald had never been anything +in his life but a lovely picture. There was no slightest +possibility that she would ever be more. She +was like a distant star to be admired but never come +near. Had he been fool enough to have his head +turned by her writing that kind letter to him? Had +he even remotely fancied she would ever be anything +nearer to him than just a formal friend who +occasionally stooped to give a bright smile or do a +kindness? Well, if he had, he needed this knockdown +blow. It might be a good thing that it came +so soon before he had let this thing grow in his +imagination; but oh, if it had but come a bit sooner! +If it had only been on the way over to the Y.M.C.A. +hut instead of on the way back that letter would +never have been written! She would have set him +down as a boor perhaps, but what matter? What +was she to him, or he to her? Well—perhaps he +would have written a letter briefly to thank her for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +her offer of knitting, but it would have been an +entirely different letter from the one he did write. +He ground his teeth as he thought out the letter he +should have written: +</p> +<div style='font-size:smaller'> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Miss Macdonald</span>: (No “friend” about that.) +</p> +<p>It certainly was kind of you to think of me as a possible +recipient of a sweater. But I feel that there are other boys +who perhaps need things more than I do. I am well supplied +with all necessities. I appreciate your interest in an old school +friend. The life of a soldier is not so bad, and I imagine we +shall have no end of novel experiences before the war is over. +I hope we shall be able to put an end to this terrible struggle +very soon when we get over and make the world a safe and +happy place for you and your friends. Here’s hoping the +men who are your special friends will all come home safe and +sound and soon. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; margin-right:8em;'>Sincerely,</p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>J. Cameron</span>.</p> +</div> + +</div> + +<p>He wrote that letter over and over mentally as +he tossed on his bunk in the dark, changing phrases +and whole sentences. Perhaps it would be better to +say something about “her officer friends” and make +it very clear to her that he understood his own distant +position with her. Then suddenly he kicked +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +the big blue blanket off and sat up with a deep sigh. +What a fool he was. He could not write another +letter. The letter was gone, and as it was written +he must abide by it. He could not get it back or +unwrite it much as he wished it. There was no +excuse, or way to make it possible to write and +refuse those sweaters and things, was there? +</p> +<p>He sat staring into the darkness while the man +in the next bunk roused to toss back his blanket +which had fallen superfluously across his face, and +to mutter some sleepy imprecations. But Cameron +was off on the composition of another letter: +</p> +<div style='font-size:smaller'> + +<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>My Dear Miss Macdonald</span>: +</p> +<p>I have been thinking it over and have decided that I do not +need a sweater or any of those other things you mention. I +really am pretty well supplied with necessities, and you know +they don’t give us much room to put anything around the barracks. +There must be a lot of other fellows who need them +more, so I will decline that you may give your work to others +who have nothing, or to those who are your personal friends. +</p> +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; margin-right:8em;'>Very truly,</p> +</div> + +<div class='ra'> +<p style='text-align: right; '><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>J. Cameron</span>.</p> +</div> + +</div> + +<p>Having convinced his turbulent brain that it +was quite possible for him to write such a letter as +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +this, he flung himself miserably back on his hard cot +again and realized that he did not want to write it. +That it would be almost an insult to the girl, who +even if she had been patronizing him, had done it +with a kind intent, and after all it was not her fault +that he was a fool. She had a right to marry whom +she would. Certainly he never expected her to +marry him. Only he had to own to himself that he +wanted those things she had offered. He wanted to +touch something she had worked upon, and feel that +it belonged to him. He wanted to keep this much +of human friendship for himself. Even if she was +going to marry another man, she had always been +his ideal of a beautiful, lovable woman, and as such +she should stay his, even if she married a dozen +enemy officers! +</p> +<p>It was then he began to see that the thing that +was really making him miserable was that she was +giving her sweet young life to such a rotten little +mean-natured man as Wainwright. That was the +real pain. If some fine noble man like—well—like +Captain La Rue, only younger, of course, should +come along he would be glad for her. But this +excuse for a man! Oh, it was outrageous! How +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +could she be so deceived? and yet, of course, +women knew very little of men. They had no +standards by which to judge them. They had no +opportunity to see them except in plain sight of +those they wished to please. One could not expect +them to have discernment in selecting their friends. +But what a pity! Things were all wrong! There +ought to be some way to educate a woman so that +she would realize the dangers all about her and be +somewhat protected. It was worse for Ruth Macdonald +because she had no men in her family who +could protect her. Her old grandfather was the +only near living male relative and he was a hopeless +invalid, almost entirely confined to the house. +What could he know of the young men who came +to court his granddaughter? What did he remember +of the ways of men, having been so many years +shut away from their haunts? +</p> +<p>The corporal tossed on his hard cot and sighed +like a furnace. There ought to be some one to protect +her. Someone ought to make her understand +what kind of a fellow Wainwright was! She had +called him her knight, and a knight’s business was +to protect, yet what could he do? He could not +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +go to her and tell her that the man she was going to +marry was rotten and utterly without moral principle. +He could not even send some one else to +warn her. Who could he send? His mother? No, +his mother would feel shy and afraid of a girl like +that. She had always lived a quiet life. He doubted +if she would understand herself how utterly unfit +a mate Wainwright was for a good pure girl. And +there was no one else in the world that he could send. +Besides, if she loved the man, and incomprehensible +as it seemed, she must love him or why should she +marry him?—if she loved him she would not believe +an angel from heaven against him. Women were +that way; that is, if they were good women, like +Ruth. Oh, to think of her tied up to that—<i>beast!</i> +He could think of no other word. In his +agony he rolled on his face and groaned aloud. +</p> +<p>“Oh God!” his soul cried out, “why do such +things have to be? If there really is a God why +does He let such awful things happen to a pure +good girl? The same old bitter question that had +troubled the hard young days of his own life. Could +there be a God who cared when bitterness was in so +many cups? Why had God let the war come?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></p> +<p>Sometime in the night the tumult in his brain +and heart subsided and he fell into a profound sleep. +The next thing he knew the kindly roughness of his +comrades wakened him with shakes and wet sponges +flying through the air, and he opened his consciousness +to the world again and heard the bugle blowing +for roll call. Another day had dawned grayly and +he must get up. They set him on his feet, and +bantered him into action, and he responded with +his usual wit that put them all in howls of laughter, +but as he stumbled into place in the line in the five +o’clock dawning he realized that a heavy weight was +on his heart which he tried to throw off. What did +it matter what Ruth Macdonald did with her life? +She was nothing to him, never had been and never +could be. If only he had not written that letter all +would now be as it always had been. If only she +had not written her letter! Or no! He put his +hand to his breast pocket with a quick movement of +protection. Somehow he was not yet ready to relinquish +that one taste of bright girl friendliness, +even though it had brought a stab in its wake. +</p> +<p>He was glad when the orders came for him and +five other fellows to tramp across the camp to the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +gas school and go through two solid hours of instruction +ending with a practical illustration of the +gas mask and a good dose of gas. It helped to put +his mind on the great business of war which was to +be his only business now until it or he were ended. +He set his lips grimly and went about his work +vigorously. What did it matter, anyway, what she +thought of him? He need never answer another +letter, even if she wrote. He need not accept the +package from the post office. He could let them +send it back—refuse it and let them send it back, +that was what he could do! Then she might think +what she liked. Perhaps she would suppose him +already gone to France. Anyhow, he would forget +her! It was the only sensible thing to do. +</p> +<p>Meanwhile the letter had flown on its way with +more than ordinary swiftness, as if it had known +that a force was seeking to bring it back again. The +Y.M.C.A. man was carried at high speed in an +automobile to the nearest station to the camp, and +arrived in time to catch the Baltimore train just +stopping. In the Baltimore station he went to +mail the letter just as the letter gatherer arrived +with his keys to open the box. So the letter lost no +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +time but was sorted and started northward before +midnight, and by some happy chance arrived at its +destination in time to be laid by Ruth Macdonald’s +plate at lunch time the next day. +</p> +<p>Some quick sense must have warned Ruth, for +she gathered her mail up and slipped it unobtrusively +into the pocket of her skirt before it could be +noticed. Dottie Wetherill had come home with her +for lunch and the bright red Y.M.C.A. triangle on +the envelope was so conspicuous. Dottie was crazy +over soldiers and all things military. She would be +sure to exclaim and ask questions. She was one of +those people who always found out everything about +you that you did not keep under absolute lock +and key. +</p> +<p>Every day since she had written her letter to +Cameron Ruth had watched for an answer, her +cheeks glowing sometimes with the least bit of +mortification that she should have written at all to +have received this rebuff. Had he, after all, misunderstood +her? Or had the letter gone astray, or +the man gone to the front? She had almost given +up expecting an answer now after so many weeks, +and the nice warm olive-drab sweater and neatly +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +knitted socks with extra long legs and bright lines +of color at the top, with the wristlets and muffler lay +wrapped in tissue paper at the very bottom of a +drawer in the chiffonier where she would seldom +see it and where no one else would ever find it and +question her. Probably by and by when the colored +draftees were sent away she would get them out +and carry them down to the headquarters to be +given to some needy man. She felt humiliated and +was beginning to tell herself that it was all her own +fault and a good lesson for her. She had even decided +not to go and see John Cameron’s mother +again lest that, too, might be misunderstood. It +seemed that the frank true instincts of her own +heart had been wrong, and she was getting what +she justly deserved for departing from Aunt +Rhoda’s strictly conventional code. +</p> +<p>Nevertheless, the letter in her pocket which she +had not been able to look at carefully enough to be +sure if she knew the writing, crackled and rustled +and set her heart beating excitedly, and her mind +to wondering what it might be. She answered +Dottie Wetherill’s chatter with distraught monosyllables +and absent smiles, hoping that Dottie +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +would feel it necessary to go home soon after lunch. +</p> +<p>But it presently became plain that Dottie had no +intention of going home soon; that she had come for +a purpose and that she was plying all her arts to +accomplish it. Ruth presently roused from her +reverie to realize this and set herself to give Dottie +as little satisfaction as possible out of her task. It +was evident that she had been sent to discover the +exact standing and relation in which Ruth held +Lieutenant Harry Wainwright. Ruth strongly +suspected that Dottie’s brother Bob had been the +instigator of the mission, and she had no intention +of giving him the information. +</p> +<p>So Ruth’s smiles came out and the inscrutable +twinkle grew in her lovely eyes. Dottie chattered +on sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, +theme after theme, always rounding up at +the end with some perfectly obvious leading question. +Ruth answered in all apparent innocence and +sincerity, yet with an utterly different turn of the +conversation from what had been expected, and +with an indifference that was hopelessly baffling +unless the young ambassador asked a point blank +question, which she hardly dared to do of Ruth +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +Macdonald without more encouragement. And so +at last a long two hours dragged thus away, and +finally Dottie Wetherill at the end of her small +string, and at a loss for more themes on which to +trot around again to the main idea, reluctantly +accepted her defeat and took herself away, leaving +Ruth to her long delayed letter. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<h2>VIII</h2> +</div> + +<p>Ruth sat looking into space with starry eyes and +glowing cheeks after she had read the letter. It +seemed to her a wonderful letter, quite the most +wonderful she had ever received. Perhaps it was +because it fitted so perfectly with her ideal of the +writer, who from her little girlhood had always been +a picture of what a hero must be. She used to +dream big things about him when she was a child. +He had been the best baseball player in school when +he was ten, and the handsomest little rowdy in +town, as well as the boldest, bravest champion of +the little girls. +</p> +<p>As she grew older and met him occasionally she +had always been glad that he kept his old hero look +though often appearing in rough garb. She had +known they were poor. There had been some story +about a loss of money and a long expensive sickness +of the father’s following an accident which +made all the circumstances most trying, but she +had never heard the details. She only knew that +most of the girls in her set looked on him as a nobody +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +and would no more have companied with him than +with their father’s chauffeur. After he grew older +and began to go to college some of the girls began +to think he was good looking, and to say it was +quite commendable in him to try to get an education. +Some even unearthed the fact that his had +been a fine old family in former days and that there +had been wealth and servants once. But the story +died down as John Cameron walked his quiet way +apart, keeping to his old friends, and not responding +to the feeble advances of the girls. Ruth had +been away at school in these days and had seldom +seen him. When she had there had always been +that lingering admiration for him from the old days. +She had told herself that of course he could not be +worth much or people would know him. He was +probably ignorant and uncultured, and a closer +acquaintance would show him far from what her +young ideas had pictured her hero. But somehow +that day at the station, the look in his face had revealed +fine feeling, and she was glad now to have +her intuition concerning him verified by his letter. +</p> +<p>And what a letter it was! Why, no young man +of her acquaintance could have written with such +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +poetic delicacy. That paragraph about the rose was +beautiful, and not a bit too presuming, either, in one +who had been a perfect stranger all these years. +She liked his simple frankness and the easy way he +went back twelve years and began just where they +left off. There was none of the bold forwardness +that might have been expected in one who had not +moved in cultured society. There was no unpleasant +assumption of familiarity which might have +emphasized her fear that she had overstepped the +bounds of convention in writing to him in the first +place. On the contrary, her humiliation at his long +delayed answer was all forgotten now. He had +understood her perfectly and accepted her letter in +exactly the way she had meant it without the least +bit of foolishness or unpleasantness. In short, he +had written the sort of a letter that the kind of man +she had always thought—hoped—he was would be +likely to write, and it gave her a surprisingly pleasant +feeling of satisfaction. It was as if she had +discovered a friend all of her own not made for her +by her family, nor one to whom she fell heir because +of her wealth and position; but just one she +had found, out in the great world of souls. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span></p> +<p>If he had been going to remain at home there +might have been a number of questions, social and +conventional, which would have arisen to bar the +way to this free feeling of a friendship, and which +she would have had to meet and reason with before +her mind would have shaken itself unhampered; +but because he was going away and on such an +errand, perhaps never to return, the matter of what +her friends might think or what the world would +say, simply did not enter into the question at all. +The war had lifted them both above such ephemeral +barriers into the place of vision where a soul +was a soul no matter what he possessed or who he +was. So, as she sat in her big white room with all +its dainty accessories to a luxurious life, fit setting +for a girl so lovely, she smiled unhindered at this +bit of beautiful friendship that had suddenly drifted +down at her feet out of a great outside unknown +world. She touched the letter thoughtfully with +caressing fingers, and the kind of a high look in her +eyes that a lady of old must have worn when she +thought of her knight. It came to her to wonder +that she had not felt so about any other of her men +friends who had gone into the service. Why should +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +this special one soldier boy represent the whole war, +as it were, in this way to her. However, it was but +a passing thought, and with a smile still upon her +lips she went to the drawer and brought out the +finely knitted garments she had made, wrapping +them up with care and sending them at once upon +their way. It somehow gave her pleasure to set +aside a small engagement she had for that afternoon +until she had posted the package herself. +</p> +<p>Even then, when she took her belated way to a +little gathering in honor of one of her girl friends +who was going to be married the next week to a +young aviator, she kept the smile on her lips and +the dreamy look in her eyes, and now and then +brought herself back from the chatter around her +to remember that something pleasant had happened. +Not that there was any foolishness in her thoughts. +There was too much dignity and simplicity about +the girl, young as she was, to allow her to deal even +with her own thoughts in any but a maidenly way, +and it was not in the ordinary way of a maid with a +man that she thought of this young soldier. He was +so far removed from her life in every way, and all +the well-drilled formalities, that it never occurred +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span> +to her to think of him in the same way she thought +of her other men friends. +</p> +<p>A friend who understood her, and whom she +could understand. That was what she had always +wanted and what she had never quite had with any +of her young associates. One or two had approached +to that, but always there had been a point +at which they had fallen short. That she should +make this man her friend whose letter crackled in +her pocket, in that intimate sense of the word, did +not occur to her even now. He was somehow set +apart for service in her mind; and as such she had +chosen him to be her special knight, she to be the +lady to whom he might look for encouragement—whose +honor he was going forth to defend. It was +a misty dreamy ideal of a thought. Somehow she +would not have picked out any other of her boy +friends to be a knight for her. They were too flippant, +too careless and light hearted. The very way +in which they lighted their multitudinous cigarettes +and flipped the match away gave impression that +they were going to have the time of their lives in +this war. They might have patriotism down at the +bottom of all this froth and boasting, doubtless they +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +had; but there was so little seriousness about them +that one would never think of them as knights, defenders +of some great cause of righteousness. Perhaps +she was all wrong. Perhaps it was only her +old baby fancy for the little boy who could always +“lick” the other boys and save the girls from +trouble that prejudiced her in his favor, but at least +it was pleasant and a great relief to know that her +impulsive letter had not been misunderstood. +</p> +<p>The girls prattled of this one and that who were +“going over” soon, told of engagements and marriages +soon to occur; criticized the brides and +grooms to be; declared their undying opinions about +what was fitting for a war bride to wear; and +whether they would like to marry a man who had +to go right into war and might return minus an arm +or an eye. They discoursed about the U-boats with +a frothy cheerfulness that made Ruth shudder; and +in the same breath told what nice eyes a young captain +had who had recently visited the town, and +what perfectly lovely uniforms he wore. They +argued with serious zeal whether a girl should wear +an olive-drab suit this year if she wanted to look +really smart. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span></p> +<p>They were the girls among whom she had been +brought up, and Ruth was used to their froth, but +somehow to-day it bored her beyond expression. +She was glad to make an excuse to get away and +she drove her little car around by the way of John +Cameron’s home hoping perhaps to get a glimpse of +his mother again. But the house had a shut up +look behind the vine that he had trained, as if it +were lonely and lying back in a long wait till he +should come—or not come! A pang went through +her heart. For the first time she thought what it +meant for a young life like that to be silenced by +cold steel. The home empty! The mother alone! +His ambitions and hopes unfulfilled! It came to +her, too, that if he were her knight he might have +to die for her—for his cause! She shuddered and +swept the unpleasant thought away, but it had left +its mark and would return again. +</p> +<p>On the way back she passed a number of young +soldiers home on twenty-four hour leave from the +nearby camps. They saluted most eagerly, and she +knew that any one of them would have gladly +occupied the vacant seat in her car, but she was +not in the mood to talk with them. She felt that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +there was something to be thought out and fixed in +her mind, some impression that life had for her that +afternoon that she did not want to lose in the mild +fritter of gay banter that would be sure to follow +if she stopped and took home some of the boys. So +she bowed graciously and swept by at a high speed +as if in a great hurry. The war! The war! It was +beating itself into her brain again in much the same +way it had done on that morning when the drafted +men went away, only now it had taken on a more +personal touch. She kept seeing the lonely vine-clad +house where that one soldier had lived, and +which he had left so desolate. She kept thinking +how many such homes and mothers there must be in +the land. +</p> +<p>That evening when she was free to go to her +room she read John Cameron’s letter again, and +then, feeling almost as if she were childish in her +haste, she sat down and wrote an answer. Somehow +that second reading made her feel his wish for +an answer. It seemed a mute appeal that she +could not resist. +</p> +<p>When John Cameron received that letter and +the accompanying package he was lifted into the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +seventh heaven for a little while. He forgot all his +misgivings, he even forgot Lieutenant Wainwright +who had but that day become a most formidable foe, +having been transferred to Cameron’s company, +where he was liable to be commanding officer in +absence of the captain, and where frequent salutes +would be inevitable. It had been a terrible blow +to Cameron. But now it suddenly seemed a small +matter. He put on his new sweater and swelled +around the way the other boys did, letting them all +admire him. He examined the wonderful socks +almost reverently, putting a large curious finger +gently on the red and blue stripes and thrilling with +the thought that her fingers had plied the needles in +those many, many stitches to make them. He almost +felt it would be sacrilege to wear them, and he laid +them away most carefully and locked them into the +box under his bed lest some other fellow should +admire and desire them to his loss. But with the +letter he walked away into the woods as far as the +bounds of the camp would allow and read and reread +it, rising at last from it as one refreshed from +a comforting meal after long fasting. It was on +the way back to his barracks that night, walking +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +slowly under the starlight, not desiring to be back +until the last minute before night taps because he +did not wish to break the wonderful evening he had +spent with her, that he resolved to try to get leave +the next Saturday and go home to thank her. +</p> +<p>Back in the barracks with the others he fairly +scintillated with wit and kept his comrades in roars +of laughter until the officer of the night suppressed +them summarily. But long after the others were +asleep he lay thinking of her, and listening to the +singing of his soul as he watched a star that twinkled +with a friendly gleam through a crack in the roof +above his cot. Once again there came the thought +of God, and a feeling of gratitude for this lovely +friendship in his life. If he knew where God was +he would like to thank Him. Lying so and looking +up to the star he breathed from his heart a +wordless thanksgiving. +</p> +<p>The next night he wrote and told her he was +coming, and asked permission to call and thank her +face to face. Then he fairly haunted the post office +at mail time the rest of the week hoping for an +answer. He had not written his mother about his +coming, for he meant not to go this week if there +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +came no word from Ruth. Besides, it would be nice +to surprise his mother. Then there was some doubt +about his getting a pass anyway, and so between the +two anxieties he was kept busy up to the last minute. +But Friday evening he got his pass, and in the last +mail came a special delivery from Ruth, just a brief +note saying she had been away from home when +his letter arrived, but she would be delighted to see +him on Sunday afternoon as he had suggested. +</p> +<p>He felt like a boy let loose from school as he +brushed up his uniform and polished his big army +shoes while his less fortunate companions kidded +him about the girl he was going to see. He denied +their thrusts joyously, in his heart repudiating any +such personalities, yet somehow it was pleasant. He +had never realized how pleasant it would be to +have a girl and be going to see her—such a girl! +Of course, she was not for him—not with that possessiveness. +But she was a friend, a real friend, +and he would not let anything spoil the pleasure +of that! +</p> +<p>He had not thought anything in his army experience +could be so exciting as that first ride back +home again. Somehow the deference paid to his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +uniform got into his blood and made him feel that +people all along the line really did care for what +the boys were doing for them. It made camp life +and hardships seem less dreary. +</p> +<p>It was great to get back to his little mother and +put his big arms around her again. She seemed so +small. Had she shrunken since he left her or was +he grown so much huskier with the out of door life? +Both, perhaps, and he looked at her sorrowfully. +She was so little and quiet and brave to bear life all +alone. If he only could get back and get to succeeding +in life so that he might make some brightness +for her. She had borne so much, and she ought +not to have looked so old and worn at her age! For +a brief instant again his heart was almost bitter, and +he wondered what God meant by giving his good +little mother so much trouble. Was there a God +when such things could be? He resolved to do something +about finding out this very day. +</p> +<p>It was pleasant to help his mother about the +kitchen, saving her as she had not been saved since +he left, telling her about the camp, and listening to +her tearful admiration of him. She could scarcely +take her eyes from him, he seemed so tall and big +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +and handsome in his uniform; he appeared so much +older and more manly that her heart yearned for +her boy who seemed to be slipping away from her. +It was so heavenly blessed to sit down beside him +and sew on a button and mend a torn spot in his +flannel shirt and have him pat her shoulder now and +then contentedly. +</p> +<p>Then with pride she sent him down to the store +for something nice for dinner, and watched him +through the window with a smile, the tears running +down her cheeks. How tall and straight he +walked! How like his father when she first knew +him! She hoped the neighbors all were looking out +and would see him. Her boy! Her soldier boy! +And he must go away from her, perhaps to die! +</p> +<p>But—<i>he was here to-day</i>! She would not think +of the rest. She would rejoice now in his presence. +</p> +<p>He walked briskly down the street past the +houses that had been familiar all his life, meeting +people who had never been wont to notice him before; +and they smiled upon him from afar now; +greeted him with enthusiasm, and turned to look +after him as he passed on. It gave him a curious +feeling to have so much attention from people who +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +had never known him before. It made him feel +strangely small, yet filled with a great pride and +patriotism for the country that was his, and the +government which he now represented to them all. +He was something more to them now than just one +of the boys about town who had grown up among +them. He was a soldier of the United States. He +had given his life for the cause of righteousness. +The bitterness he might have felt at their former +ignoring of him, was all swallowed up in their +genuine and hearty friendliness. +</p> +<p>He met the white-haired minister, kindly and +dignified, who paused to ask him how he liked camp +life and to commend him as a soldier; and looking in +his strong gentle face John Cameron remembered +his resolve. +</p> +<p>He flashed a keen look at the gracious countenance +and made up his mind to speak: +</p> +<p>“I’d like to ask you a question, Doctor Thurlow. +It’s been bothering me quite a little ever since +this matter of going away to fight has been in my +mind. Is there any way that a man—that <i>I</i> can find +God? That is, if there is a God. I’ve never thought +much about it before, but life down there in camp +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +makes a lot of things seem different, and I’ve been +wondering. I’m not sure what I believe. Is there +anyway I can find out?” +</p> +<p>A pleasant gleam of surprise and delight +thrilled into the deep blue eyes of the minister. It +was startling. It almost embarrassed him for a +moment, it was so unexpected to have a soldier ask +a question about God. It was almost mortifying +that he had never thought it worth while to take +the initiative on that question with the young man. +</p> +<p>“Why, certainly!” he said heartily. “Of +course, of course. I’m very glad to know you are +interested in those things. Couldn’t you come in +to my study and talk with me. I think I could help +you. I’m sure I could.” +</p> +<p>“I haven’t much time,” said Cameron shyly, +half ashamed now that he had opened his heart to +an almost stranger. He was not even his mother’s +minister, and he was a comparative newcomer in +the town. How had he come to speak to him so +impulsively? +</p> +<p>“I understand, exactly, of course,” said the +minister with growing eagerness. “Could you +come in now for five or ten minutes? I’ll turn back +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +with you and you can stop on your way, or we +can talk as we go. Were you thinking of uniting +with the church? We have our communion the first +Sunday of next month. I should be very glad if +you could arrange. We have a number of young +people coming in now. I’d like to see you come +with them. The church is a good safe place to be. +It was established by God. It is a school in which +to learn of Him. It is——” +</p> +<p>“But I’m not what you would call a Christian!” +protested Cameron. “I don’t even know that I believe +in the Bible. I don’t know what your church +believes. I don’t have a very definite idea what any +church believes. I would be a hypocrite to stand up +and join a church when I wasn’t sure there was +a God.” +</p> +<p>“My dear young fellow!” said the minister +affectionately. “Not at all! Not at all! The +church is the place for young people to come when +they have doubts. It is a shelter, and a growing +place. Just trust yourself to God and come in +among His people and your doubts will vanish. +Don’t worry about doubts. Many people have +doubts. Just let them alone and put yourself in the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +right way and you will forget them. I should be +glad to talk with you further. I would like to see +you come into communion with God’s people. If +you want to find God you should come where He +has promised to be. It is a great thing to have a +fine young fellow like you, and a soldier, array himself +on the side of God. I would like to see you +stand up on the right side before you go out to +meet danger and perhaps death.” +</p> +<p>John Cameron stood watching him as he talked. +</p> +<p>“He’s a good old guy,” he thought gravely, +“but he doesn’t get my point. He evidently believes +what he says, but I don’t just see going blindfolded +into a church. However, there’s something +to what he says about going where God is if I want +to find him.” +</p> +<p>Out loud he merely said: +</p> +<p>“I’ll think about it, Doctor, and perhaps come +in to see you the next time I’m home.” Then he +excused himself and went on to the store. +</p> +<p>As he walked away he said to himself: +</p> +<p>“I wonder what Ruth Macdonald would say if +I asked her the same question? I wonder if she has +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +thought anything about it? I wonder if I’d ever +have the nerve to ask her?” +</p> +<p>The next morning he suggested to his mother +that they go to Doctor Thurlow’s church together. +She would have very much preferred going to her +own church with him, but she knew that he did not +care for the minister and had never been very +friendly with the people, so she put aside her secret +wish and went with him. To tell the truth she was +very proud to go anywhere with her handsome soldier +son, and one thing that made her the more willing +was that she remembered that the Macdonalds +always went to the Presbyterian church, and perhaps +they would be there to-day and Ruth would +see them. But she said not a word of this to her boy. +</p> +<p>John spent most of the time with his mother. +He went up to college for an hour or so Saturday +evening, dropping in on his fraternity for a few +minutes and realizing what true friends he had +among the fellows who were left, though most of +them were gone. He walked about the familiar +rooms, looking at the new pictures, photographs of +his friends in uniform. This one was a lieutenant +in Officers’ Training Camp. That one had gone +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +with the Ambulance Corps. Tom was with the +Engineers, and Jimmie and Sam had joined the +Tank Service. Two of the fellows were in France +in the front ranks, another had enlisted in the +Marines, it seemed that hardly any were left, and +of those three had been turned down for some slight +physical defect, and were working in munition factories +and the ship-yard. Everything was changed. +The old playmates had become men with earnest +purposes. He did not stay long. There was a +restlessness about it all that pulled the strings of +his heart, and made him realize how different everything +was. +</p> +<p>Sunday morning as he walked to church with +his mother he wondered why he had never gone more +with her when he was at home. It seemed a pleasant +thing to do. +</p> +<p>The service was beautifully solemn, and Doctor +Thurlow had many gracious words to say of the +boys in the army, and spent much time reading letters +from those at the front who belonged to the +church and Sunday school, and spoke of the +“supreme sacrifice” in the light of a saving grace; +but the sermon was a gentle ponderous thing that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +got nowhere, spiced toward its close with thrilling +scenes from battle news. John Cameron as he +listened did not feel that he had found God. He +did not feel a bit enlightened by it. He laid it to +his own ignorance and stupidity, though, and determined +not to give up the search. The prayer at the +close of the sermon somehow clinched this resolve +because there was something so genuine and sweet +and earnest about it. He could not help thinking +that the man might know more of God than he was +able to make plain to his hearers. He had really +never noticed either a prayer or a sermon before in +his life. He had sat in the room with very few. He +wondered if all sermons and prayers were like these +and wished he had noticed them. He had never been +much of a church goer. +</p> +<p>But the climax, the real heart of his whole two +days, was after Sunday dinner when he went out to +call upon Ruth Macdonald. And it was characteristic +of his whole reticent nature, and the way he had +been brought up, that he did not tell his mother +where he was going. It had never occurred to him +to tell her his movements when they did not directly +concern her, and she had never brought herself +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +up to ask him. It is the habit of some women, +and many mothers. +</p> +<p>A great embarrassment fell upon him as he +entered the grounds of the Macdonald place, and +when he stood before the plate-glass doors waiting +for an answer to his ring he would have turned and +fled if he had not promised to come. +</p> +<p>It was perhaps not an accident that Ruth let +him in herself and took him to a big quiet library +with wide-open windows overlooking the lawn, and +heavy curtains shutting them in from the rest of +the house, where, to his great amazement, he could +feel at once at ease with her and talk to her just as +he had done in her letters and his own. +</p> +<p>Somehow it was like having a lifetime dream +suddenly fulfilled to be sitting this way in pleasant +converse with her, watching the lights and shadows +of expression flit across her sensitive face, and knowing +that the light in her eyes was for him. It seemed +incredible, but she evidently enjoyed talking to him. +Afterwards he thought about it as if their souls had +been calling to one another across infinite space, +things that neither of them could quite hear, and +now they were within hailing distance. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span></p> +<p>He had thanked her for the sweater and other +things, and they had talked a little about the old +school days and how life changed people, when he +happened to glance out of the window near him +and saw a man in officer’s uniform approaching. +He stopped short in the midst of a sentence and +rose, his face set, his eyes still on the rapidly approaching +soldiers: +</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shall have to go. It’s +been wonderful to come, but I must go at once. +Perhaps you’ll let me go out this way. It is a +shorter cut. Thank you for everything, and perhaps +if there’s ever another time—I’d like to come +again——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, please don’t go yet!” she said putting out +her hand in protest. But he grasped the hand with +a quick impulsive grip and with a hasty: “I’m sorry, +but I must!” he opened the glass door to the side +piazza and was gone. +</p> +<p>In much bewilderment and distress Ruth +watched him stride away toward the hedge and disappear. +Then she turned to the front window and +caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Wainwright just +mounting the front steps. What did it all mean? +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +<h2>IX</h2> +</div> + +<p>Ruth tried to control her perturbation and +meet her guest with an unruffled countenance, but +there was something about the bland smug countenance +of Lieutenant Wainwright that irritated her. +To have her first pleasant visit with Cameron suddenly +broken up in this mysterious fashion, and +Wainwright substituted for Cameron was somehow +like taking a bite of some pleasant fruit and having +it turn out plain potato in one’s mouth. It was so +sudden, like that. She could not seem to get her +equilibrium. Her mind was in a whirl of question +and she could not focus it on her present caller nor +think of anything suitable to say to him. She was +not even sure but that he was noticing that she +was distraught. +</p> +<p>To have John Cameron leave in that precipitate +manner at the sight of Harry Wainwright! It was +all too evident that he had seen him through the window. +But they were fellow townsmen, and had +gone to school together! Surely he knew him! Of +course, Harry was a superior officer, but Cameron +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +would not be the kind of man to mind that. She +could not understand it. There had been a look in +his face—a set look! There must be something +behind it all. Some reason why he did not want +to be seen by Wainwright. Surely Cameron had +nothing of which to be ashamed! The thought +brought a sudden dismay. What did she know +about Cameron after all? A look, a smile, a bit of +boyish gallantry. He might be anything but fine +in his private life, of course, and Harry might be +cognizant of the fact. Yet he did not look like that. +Even while the thought forced itself into her mind +she resented it and resisted it. Then turning to her +guest who was giving an elaborate account of how +he had saved a woman’s life in an automobile accident, +she interrupted him: +</p> +<p>“Harry, what do you know about John Cameron?” +she asked impulsively. +</p> +<p>Wainwright’s face darkened with an ugly frown. +</p> +<p>“More than I want to know,” he answered +gruffly. “He’s rotten! That’s all! Why?” He +eyed her suspiciously. +</p> +<p>There was something in his tone that put her on +the defensive at once: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I saw him to-day, and I was wondering,” +she answered evasively. +</p> +<p>“It’s one of the annoyances of army life that +we have to be herded up with all sorts of cattle!” +said Wainwright with a disdainful curl of his baby +mustache. “But I didn’t come here to talk about +John Cameron. I came to tell you that I’m going +to be married, Ruth. I’m going to be married before +I go to France!” +</p> +<p>“Delightful!” said Ruth pleasantly. “Do I +know the lady?” +</p> +<p>“Indeed you do,” he said watching her with satisfaction. +“You’ve known, for several years that +you were the only one for me, and I’ve come to tell +you that I won’t stand any more dallying. I mean +business now!” +</p> +<p>He crossed his fat leather puttees creakily and +swelled out, trying to look firm. He had decided +that he must impress her with the seriousness of +the occasion. +</p> +<p>But Ruth only laughed merrily. He had been +proposing to her ever since he got out of short +trousers, and she had always laughed him out of it. +The first time she told him that she was only a kid +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +and he wasn’t much more himself, and she didn’t +want to hear any more such talk. Of late he had +grown less troublesome, and she had been inclined +to settle down to the old neighborly playmate relation, +so she was not greatly disturbed by the turn +of the conversation. In fact, she was too much +upset and annoyed by the sudden departure +of Cameron to realize the determined note in +Wainwright’s voice. +</p> +<p>“I mean it!” he said in an offended tone, flattening +his double chin and rolling out his fat +lips importantly. “I’m not to be played with +any longer.” +</p> +<p>Ruth’s face sobered: +</p> +<p>“I certainly never had an idea of playing with +you, Harry. I think I’ve always been quite frank +with you.” +</p> +<p>Wainwright felt that he wasn’t getting on quite +as well as he had planned. He frowned and sat up: +</p> +<p>“Now see here, Ruth! Let’s talk this thing +over!” he said, drawing the big leather chair in +which he was sitting nearer to hers. +</p> +<p>But Ruth’s glance had wandered out of the window. +“Why, there comes Bobbie Wetherill!” she +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +exclaimed eagerly and slipped out of her chair to +the door just as one of Wainwright’s smooth fat +hands reached out to take hold of the arm of her +rocker. “I’ll open the door for him. Mary is in +the kitchen and may not hear the bell right away.” +</p> +<p>There was nothing for Wainwright to do but +make the best of the situation, although he greeted +Wetherill with no very good grace, and his large +lips pouted out sulkily as he relaxed into his chair +again to await the departure of the intruder. +</p> +<p>Lieutenant Wetherill was quite overwhelmed +with the warmth of the greeting he received from +Ruth and settled down to enjoy it while it lasted. +With a wicked glance of triumph at his rival he laid +himself out to make his account of camp life as entertaining +as possible. He produced a gorgeous box +of bonbons and arranged himself comfortably for +the afternoon, while Wainwright’s brow grew +darker and his lips pouted out farther and farther +under his petted little moustache. It was all a +great bore to Ruth just now with her mind full of +the annoyance about Cameron. At least she would +have preferred to have had her talk with him and +found out what he was with her own judgment. But +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +anything was better than, a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with Wainwright +just now; so she ate bonbons and asked questions, +and kept the conversation going, ignoring +Wainwright’s increasing grouch. +</p> +<p>It was a great relief, however, when about half-past +four the maid appeared at the door: +</p> +<p>“A long distance telephone call for you, +Miss Ruth.” +</p> +<p>As Ruth was going up the stairs to her own +private ’phone she paused to fasten the tie of her low +shoe that had come undone and was threatening to +trip her, and she heard Harry Wainwright’s voice in +an angry snarl: +</p> +<p>“What business did you have coming here to-day, +you darned chump! You knew what I came +for, and you did it on purpose! If you don’t get out +the minute she gets back I’ll put her wise to you and +the kind of girls you go with in no time. And you +needn’t think you can turn the tables on me, either, +for I’ll fix you so you won’t dare open your +fool mouth!” +</p> +<p>The sentence finished with an oath and Ruth +hurried into her room and shut the door with a sick +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +kind of feeling that her whole little world was turning +black about her. +</p> +<p>It was good to hear the voice of her cousin, Captain +La Rue, over the ’phone, even though it was +but a message that he could not come as he had +promised that evening. It reassured her that there +were good men in the world. Of course, he was +older, but she was sure he had never been what +people called “wild,” although he had plenty of +courage and spirit. She had often heard that good +men were few, but it had never seemed to apply to +her world but vaguely. Now here of a sudden a +slur had been thrown at three of her young world. +John Cameron, it is true, was a comparative +stranger, and, of course, she had no means of judging +except by the look in his eyes. She understood +in a general way that “rotten” as applied to a +young man’s character implied uncleanness. John +Cameron’s eyes were steady and clear. They did +not look that way. But then, how could she tell? +And here, this very minute she had been hearing +that Bobbie Wetherill’s life was not all that +it should be and Wainwright had tacitly accepted +the possibility of the same weakness in himself. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +These were boys with whom she had been brought +up. Selfish and conceited she had often thought +them on occasion, but it had not occurred to her that +there might be anything worse. She pressed her +hands to her eyes and tried to force a calm steadiness +into her soul. Somehow she had an utter distaste +for going back into that library and hearing +their boastful chatter. Yet she must go. She +had been hoping all the afternoon for her cousin’s +arrival to send the other two away. Now that was +out of the question and she must use her own tact to +get pleasantly rid of them. With a sigh she opened +her door and started down stairs again. +</p> +<p>It was Wainwright’s blatant voice again that +broke through the Sabbath afternoon stillness of +the house as she approached the library door: +</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve got John Cameron all right now!” +he laughed. “He won’t hold his head so high after +he’s spent a few days in the guard-house. And +that’s what they’re all going to get that are late coming +back this time. I found out before I left camp +that his pass only reads till eleven o’clock and the +five o’clock train is the last one he can leave Chester +on to get him to camp by eleven. So I hired a fellow +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +that was coming up to buddy-up to Cam and fix it +that he is to get a friend of his to take them over to +Chester in time for the train. The fellow don’t +have to get back himself to-night at all, but he isn’t +going to let on, you know, so Cam will think they’re +in the same boat. Then they’re going to have a little +bit of tire trouble, down in that lonely bit of rough +road, that short cut between here and Chester, +where there aren’t any cars passing to help them +out, and they’ll miss the train at Chester. See? +And then the man will offer to take them on to camp +in his car and they’ll get stuck again down beyond +Wilmington, lose the road, and switch off toward +Singleton—you know, where we took those girls to +that little out-of-the-way tavern that time—and you +see Cam getting back to camp in time, don’t you?” +</p> +<p>Ruth had paused with her hand on the heavy +portiere, wide-eyed. +</p> +<p>“But Cameron’ll find a way out. He’s too +sharp. He’ll start to walk, or he’ll get some passing +car to take him,” said Wetherill with conviction. +</p> +<p>“No, he won’t. The fellows are all primed. +They’re going to catch him in spots where cars don’t +go, where the road is bad, you know, and nobody +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +but a fool would go with a car. He won’t be noticing +before they break down because this fellow told +him his man could drive a car over the moon and +never break down. Besides, I know my men. +They’ll get away with the job. There’s too much +money in it for them to run any risk of losing out. +It’s all going to happen so quick he won’t be ready +for anything.” +</p> +<p>“Well, you’ll have your trouble for your pains. +Cam’ll explain everything to the officers and he’ll +get by. He always does.” +</p> +<p>“Not this time. They’ve just made a rule that +no excuses go. There’ve been a lot of fellows coming +back late drunk. And you see that’s how we mean +to wind up. They are going to get him drunk, and +then we’ll see if little Johnnie will go around with +his nose in the air any longer! I’m going to run +down to the tavern late this evening to see the +fun my self!” +</p> +<p>“You can’t do it! Cam won’t drink! It’s been +tried again and again. He’d rather die!” +</p> +<p>But the girl at the door had fled to her room +on velvet shod feet and closed her door, her face +white with horror, her lips set with purpose, her +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +heart beating wildly. She must put a stop somehow +to this diabolical plot against him. Whether +he was worthy or not they should not do this thing +to him! She rang for the maid and began putting +on her hat and coat and flinging a few things into a +small bag. She glanced at her watch. It was a +quarter to five. Could she make it? If she only +knew which way he had gone! Would his mother +have a telephone? Her eyes scanned the C column +hurriedly. Yes, there it was. She might have +known he would not allow her to be alone without +a telephone. +</p> +<p>The maid appeared at the door. +</p> +<p>“Mary,” she said, trying to speak calmly, “tell +Thomas to have the gray car ready at once. He +needn’t bring it to the house, I will come out the +back way. Please take this bag and two long coats +out, and when I am gone go to the library and ask +the two gentlemen there to excuse me. Say that I +am suddenly called away to a friend in trouble. If +Aunt Rhoda returns soon tell her I will call her +up later and let her know my plans. That is all. I +will be down in two or three minutes and I wish to +start without delay!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span></p> +<p>Mary departed on her errand and Ruth went to +the telephone and called up the Cameron number. +</p> +<p>The sadness of the answering voice struck her +even in her haste. Her own tone was eager, intimate, +as she hastened to convey her message. +</p> +<p>“Mrs. Cameron, this is Ruth Macdonald. Has +your son left yet? I was wondering if he would +care to be taken to the train in our car?” +</p> +<p>“Oh! he has <i>just gone</i>!” came a pitiful little +gasp that had a sob at the end of it. “He went in +somebody’s car and they were late coming. I’m +afraid he is going to miss his train and he has got +to get it or he will be in trouble! That is the last +train that connects with Wilmington.” +</p> +<p>Ruth’s heart leaped to her opportunity. +</p> +<p>“Suppose we try to catch him then,” proposed +Ruth gleefully. “My car can go pretty fast, and +if he has missed the train perhaps we can carry him +on to Wilmington. Would you like to try?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, could we?” the voice throbbed with +eagerness. +</p> +<p>“Hurry up then. My car is all ready. I’ll be +down there in three minutes. We’ve no time to +waste. Put on something warm!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span></p> +<p>She hung up the receiver without waiting for +further reply, and hurried softly out of the room +and down the back stairs. +</p> +<p>Thomas was well trained. The cars were always +in order. He was used to Ruth’s hurry calls, and +when she reached the garage she found the car +standing in the back street waiting for her. In a +moment more she was rushing on her way toward +the village without having aroused the suspicion of +the two men who so impatiently awaited her return. +Mrs. Cameron was ready, eager as a child, standing +on the sidewalk with a great blanket shawl over her +arm and looking up the street for her. +</p> +<p>It was not until they had swept through the +village, over the bridge, and were out on the broad +highway toward Chester that Ruth began to realize +what a wild goose chase she had undertaken. Just +where did she expect to find them, anyway? It was +now three minutes to five by the little clock in the +car and it was a full fifteen minutes’ drive to +Chester. The plan had been to delay him on the +way to the train, and there had been mention of a +short cut. Could that be the rough stony road that +turned down sharply just beyond the stone quarry? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +It seemed hardly possible that anybody would attempt +to run a car over that road. Surely John +Cameron knew the roads about here well enough to +advise against it. Still, Ruth knew the locality like +a book and that was the only short cut thereabout. +If they had gone down there they might emerge at +the other end just in time to miss the train, and then +start on toward Wilmington. Or they might turn +back and take the longer way if they found the +short road utterly impassable. Which should she +take? Should she dare that rocky way? If only +there might be some tracks to guide her. But the +road was hard and dusty and told no tales of recent +travelers. They skimmed down the grade past the +stone quarry, and the short cut flashed into view, +rough and hilly, turning sharply away behind a +group of spruce trees. It was thick woods beyond. +If she went that way and got into any trouble with +her machine the chances were few that anyone would +some along to help. She had but a moment to decide, +and something told her that the long way was +the safe one and shorter in the end. She swept on, +her engine throbbing with that pleasant purr of expensive +well-groomed machinery, the car leaping +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +forward as if it delighted in the high speed. The +little woman by her side sat breathless and eager, +with shining eyes, looking ahead for her boy. +</p> +<p>They passed car after car, and Ruth scanned the +occupants keenly. Some were filled with soldiers, +but John Cameron was not among them. She began +to be afraid that perhaps she ought after all to +have gone down that hilly way and made sure they +were not there. She was not quite sure where that +short road came out. If she knew she might run up +a little way from this further end. +</p> +<p>The two women sat almost silent, straining their +eyes ahead. They had said hardly a word since the +first greeting. Each seemed to understand the +thought of the other without words. For the +present they had but one common object, to find +John Cameron. +</p> +<p>Suddenly, as far ahead as they could see, a car +darted out of the wooded roadside, swung into their +road and plunged ahead at a tremendous rate. They +had a glimpse of khaki uniforms, but it was much +too far away to distinguish faces or forms. Nevertheless, +both women fastened their eyes upon it with +but one thought. Ruth put on more speed and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +forged ahead, thankful that she was not within city +lines yet, and that there was no one about to remind +her of the speed limit. Something told her +that the man she was seeking was in that car ahead. +</p> +<p>It was a thrilling race. Ruth said no word, but +she knew that her companion was aware that she +was chasing that car. Mrs. Cameron sat straight +and tense as if it had been a race of life and death, her +cheeks glowing and her eyes shining. Ruth was +grateful that she did not talk. Some women would +have talked incessantly. +</p> +<p>The other car did not go in to Chester proper at +all, but veered away into a branch road and Ruth +followed, leaping over the road as if it had been a +gray velvet ribbon. She did not seem to be gaining +on the car; but it was encouraging that they could +keep it still in sight. Then there came a sharp turn +of the road and it was gone. They were pulsing +along now at a tremendous rate. The girl had cast +caution to the winds. She was hearing the complacent +sneer of Harry Wainwright as he boasted +how they would get John Cameron into trouble, and +all the force of her strong young will was enlisted to +frustrate his plans. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></p> +<p>It was growing dusk, and lights leaped out on +the munition factories all about them. Along the +river other lights flashed and flickered in the white +mist that rose like a wreath. But Ruth saw nothing +of it all. She was straining her eyes for the +little black speck of a car which she had been following +and which now seemed to be swallowed up by +the evening. She had not relaxed her speed, and +the miles were whirling by, and she had a growing +consciousness that she might be passing the object +of her chase at any minute without knowing it. +Presently they came to a junction of three roads, +and she paused. On ahead the road was broad and +empty save for a car coming towards them. Off to +the right was a desolate way leading to a little cemetery. +Down to the left a smooth wooded road +wound into the darkness. There were sign boards +up. Ruth leaned out and flashed a pocket torch on +the board. “<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>To Pine Tree Inn</span>, 7 Miles” it +read. Did she fancy it or was it really true that +she could hear the distant sound of a car among +the pines? +</p> +<p>“I’m going down this way!” she said decidedly +to her companion, as if her action needed an explanation, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +and she turned her car into the new road. +</p> +<p>“But it’s too late now,” said Mrs. Cameron +wistfully. “The train will be gone, of course, even +from Wilmington. And you ought to be going +home. I’m very wrong to have let you come so far; +and it’s getting dark. Your folks will be worrying +about you. That man will likely do his best to get +him to camp in time.” +</p> +<p>“No,” said Ruth decidedly, “there’s no one at +home to worry just now, and I often go about alone +rather late. Besides, aren’t we having a good time? +We’re going a little further anyway before we +give up.” +</p> +<p>She began to wonder in her heart if she ought +not to have told somebody else and taken Thomas +along to help. It was rather a questionable thing +for her to do, in the dusk of the evening—to women +all alone. But then, she had Mrs. Cameron along +and that made it perfectly respectable. But if she +failed now, what else could she do? Her blood +boiled hotly at the thought of letting Harry Wainwright +succeed in his miserable plot. Oh, for cousin +La Rue! He would have thought a way out of this. +If everything else failed she would tell the whole +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +story to Captain La Rue and beg him to exonerate +John Cameron. But that, of course, she knew would +be hard to do, there was so much red tape in the +army, and there were so many unwritten laws that +could not be set aside just for private individuals. +Still, there must be a way if she had to go herself to +someone and tell what she had overheard. She set +her pretty lips firmly and rode on at a brisk pace +down the dark road, switching on her head lights +to seem the way here in the woods. And then suddenly, +just in time she jerked on the brake and +came to a jarring stop, for ahead of her a big car +was sprawled across the road, and there, rising hurriedly +from a kneeling posture before the engine, +in the full blaze of her headlights, blinking and +frowning with anxiety, stood John Cameron! +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +<h2>X</h2> +</div> + +<p>The end of her chase came so unexpectedly that +her wits were completely scattered. Now that she +was face to face with the tall soldier she had nothing +to say for her presence there. What would he think +of her? How could she explain her coming? She +had undertaken the whole thing in such haste that +she had not planned ahead. Now she knew that +from the start she had understood that she must not +explain how she came to be possessed of any information +concerning him. She felt a kind of +responsible shame for her old playmate Harry +Wainright, and a certain loyalty toward her own +social set that prevented her from that, the only possible +explanation that could make her coming justifiable. +So, now in the brief interval before he had +recognized them she must stage the next act, and +she found herself unable to speak, her throat dry, +her lips for the instant paralyzed. It was the jubilant +little mother that stepped into the crisis and did +the most natural thing in the world: +</p> +<p>“John! Oh John! It’s really you! We’ve +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +caught you!” she cried, and the troubled young +soldier peering into the dusk to discover if here was +a vehicle he might presume to commandeer to help +him out of his predicament lifted startled eyes to +the two faces in the car and strode forward, abandoning +with a clang the wrench with which he had +been working on the car. +</p> +<p>“Mother!” he said, a shade of deep anxiety in +his voice. “What is the matter? How came you +to be here?” +</p> +<p>“Why, I came after you,” she said laughing +like a girl. “We’re going to see that you get to +camp in time. We’ve made pretty good time so +far. Jump in quick and we’ll tell you the rest on +the way. We mustn’t waste time.” +</p> +<p>Cameron’s startled gaze turned on Ruth now, +and a great wonder and delight sprang up in his +eyes. It was like the day when he went away on +the train, only more so, and it brought a rich flush +into Ruth’s cheeks. As she felt the hot waves she +was glad that she was sitting behind the light. +</p> +<p>“What! You?” he breathed wonderingly. +“But this is too much! And after the way I +treated you!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></p> +<p>His mother looked wonderingly from one to +the other: +</p> +<p>“Get in, John, quick. We mustn’t lose a +minute. Something might delay us later.” It was +plain she was deeply impressed with the necessity +for the soldier not to be found wanting. +</p> +<p>“Yes, please get in quickly, and let us start. +Then we can talk!” said Ruth, casting an anxious +glance toward the other car. +</p> +<p>His hand went out to the door to open it, the +wonder still shining in his face, when a low murmur +like a growl went up behind him. +</p> +<p>Ruth looked up, and there in the full glare of +the lights stood two burly civilians and a big soldier: +</p> +<p>“Oh, I say!” drawled the soldier in no very +pleasant tone, “you’re not going to desert us that +way! Not after Pass came out of his way for us! +I didn’t think you had a yellow streak!” +</p> +<p>Cameron paused and a troubled look came into +his face. He glanced at the empty back seat with +a repression of his disappointment in the necessity. +</p> +<p>“There’s another fellow here that has to get +back at the same time I do,” he said looking at +Ruth hesitatingly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span></p> +<p>“Certainly. Ask him, of course.” Ruth’s voice +was hearty and put the whole car at his disposal. +</p> +<p>“There’s room for you, too, Chalmers,” he said +with relief. “And Passmore will be glad to get rid +of us I suspect. He’ll be able to get home soon. +There isn’t much the matter with that engine. If +you do what I told you to that carburetor you’ll +find it will go all right. Come on, Chalmers. We +ought to hurry!” +</p> +<p>“No thanks! I stick to my friends!” said the +soldier shortly. +</p> +<p>“As you please!” said Cameron stepping on +the running board. +</p> +<p>“Not as <i>you</i> please!” said a gruff voice, “I’m +running this party and we all go together? See?” +A heavy hand came down upon Cameron’s shoulder +with a mighty grip. +</p> +<p>Cameron landed a smashing blow under the +man’s chin which sent him reeling and sprang inside +as Ruth threw in the clutch and sent her car leaping +forward. The two men in front were taken by surprise +and barely got out of the way in time, but +instantly recovered their senses and sprang after +the car, the one nearest her reaching for the wheel. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +Cameron, leaning forward, sent him rolling down +the gully, and Ruth turned the car sharply to avoid +the other car which was occupying as much of the +road as possible, and left the third man scrambling +to his knees behind her. It was taking a big chance +to dash past that car in the narrow space over rough +ground, but Ruth was not conscious of anything but +the necessity of getting away. In an instant they +were back in the road and flashing along through +the dark. +</p> +<p>“Mother, you better let me help you back here,” +said her son leaning forward and almost lifting his +mother into the back seat, then stepping over to +take her place beside Ruth. +</p> +<p>“Better turn out your back lights!” he said in +a quiet, steady voice. “They might follow, you +know. They’re in an ugly mood. They’ve been +drinking.” +</p> +<p>“Then the car isn’t really out of commission?” +</p> +<p>“Not seriously.” +</p> +<p>“We’re not on the right road, did you know? +This road goes to The Pine Tree Inn and +Singleton!” +</p> +<p>Cameron gave a low exclamation: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span></p> +<p>“Then they’re headed for more liquor. I +thought something was up.” +</p> +<p>“Is there a cross road back to the Pike?” +</p> +<p>“I’m not sure. Probably. I know there is +about three miles farther on, almost to the Inn. +This is an awful mess to have got you into! I’d +rather have been in the guard house than have this +happen to you!” +</p> +<p>“Please don’t!” said Ruth earnestly. “It’s an +adventure! I’m enjoying it. I’m not a doll to be +kept in cotton wool!” +</p> +<p>“I should say not!” said Cameron with deep +admiration in his tone. “You haven’t shown yourself +much of a doll to-night. Some doll, to run a +car the way you did in the face of all that. I’ll tell +you better what I think when we get out of this!” +</p> +<p>“They are coming, I believe!” said Ruth glancing +back. “Don’t you see a light? Look!” +</p> +<p>Mrs. Cameron was looking, too, through the +little back window. Now she spoke quietly: +</p> +<p>“Wouldn’t it be better to get out and slip up in +the woods till they have gone by?” +</p> +<p>“No, mother!” said Cameron quickly, “just +you sit quiet where you are and trust us.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></p> +<p>“Something awful might happen, John!” +</p> +<p>“No, mother! Don’t you worry!” he said in +his gentle, manly tone. Then to Ruth: “There’s a +big barn ahead there on your left. Keep your eye +out for a road around behind it. If we could disappear +it’s too dark for them to know where we +are. Would you care to turn out all the lights and +let me run the car? I don’t want to boast but there +isn’t much of anything I can’t do with a car when +I have to.” +</p> +<p>Instantly Ruth switched out every light and +with a relieved “Please!” gave up the wheel to +him. They made the change swiftly and silently, +and Ruth took the post of lookout. +</p> +<p>“Yes, I can see two lights. It might be someone +else, mightn’t it?” +</p> +<p>“Not likely, on this road. But we’re not taking +any chances,” and with that the car bumped +down across a gully and lurched up to a grassy approach +to a big stone barn that loomed above them, +then slid down another bank and passed close to a +great haystack, whose clutching straw fingers +reached out to brush their faces, and so swept +softly around to the rear of the barn and stopped. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +Cameron shut off the engine instantly and they sat +in utter silence listening to the oncoming car. +</p> +<p>“It’s they, all right!” whispered Cameron +softly. “That’s Passmore’s voice. He converses +almost wholly in choice profanity.” +</p> +<p>His mother’s hand stole out to touch his shoulder +and he reached around and held it close. +</p> +<p>“Don’t tremble, mother, we’re all safe!” he +whispered in a tone so tender that Ruth felt a shiver +of pleasure pass over her for the mother who had +such a son. Also there was the instant thought +that a man could not be wholly “rotten” when he +could speak to his mother in that tone. +</p> +<p>There was a breathless space when the car +paused on the road not far away and their pursuers +stood up and looked around, shouting to one another. +There was no mistaking their identity now. +Ruth shivered visibly. One of them got out of the +car and came toward the barn. They could hear +him stepping over the stony roadside. Cameron +laid a quiet hand of reassuring protection on her +arm that steadied her and made her feel wonderfully +safe once more, and strange to say she found +herself lifting up another queer little kind of a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +prayer. It had never been her habit to pray much +except in form. Her heart had seldom needed anything +that money could not supply. +</p> +<p>The man had stumbled across the gully and up +toward the barn. They could hear him swearing +at the unevenness of the ground, and Ruth held her +breath and prayed again. A moment more and he +was fumbling about for the barn door and calling +for a flash light. Then, like the distant sound of a +mighty angel of deliverance came the rumble of a +car in the distance. The men heard it and took it +for their quarry on ahead. They climbed into their +car again and were gone like a flash. +</p> +<p>John Cameron did not wait for them to get far +away. He set the car in motion as soon as they +were out of sight, and its expensive mechanism +obeyed his direction almost silently as he guided it +around the barn, behind the haystack and back +again into the road over which they had just come. +</p> +<p>“Now!” he said as he put the car to its best +speed and switched on its headlights again. “Now +we can beat them to it, I guess, if they come back +this way, which I don’t think they will.” +</p> +<p>The car dashed over the ground and the three +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +sat silent while they passed into the woods and over +the place where they had first met Cameron. Ruth +felt herself trembling again, and her teeth beginning +to chatter from the strain. Cameron seemed +to realize her feeling and turned toward her: +</p> +<p>“You’ve been wonderful!” he said flashing a +warm look at her, “and you, too, mother!” lifting +his voice a little and turning his head toward the +back seat. “I don’t believe any other two women in +Bryne Haven could have gone through a scene like +that and kept absolutely still. You were great!” +There was that in his voice that lifted Ruth’s heart +more than any praise she had ever received for anything. +She wanted to make some acknowledgment, +but she found to her surprise that tears were +choking her throat so that she could not speak. It +was the excitement, of course, she told herself, and +struggled to get control of her emotion. +</p> +<p>They emerged from the woods and in sight +of the Pike at last, and Cameron drew a long +breath of relief. +</p> +<p>“There, I guess we can hold our own with anyone, +now,” he said settling back in his seat, but relaxing +none of his vigilance toward the car which +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +sped along the highway like a winged thing. “But +it’s time I heard how you came to be here. I haven’t +been able to explain it, during the intervals when +I’ve had any chance at all to think about it.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I just called up your mother to know if it +would help you any to be taken to your train,” said +Ruth quickly, “and she mentioned that she was +worried lest you would miss it; so I suggested that +we try to catch you and take you on to Wilmington +or Baltimore or wherever you have to go. I do hope +this delay hasn’t spoiled it all. How long does it +take to go from Baltimore to camp. I’ve taken the +Baltimore trip myself in five hours. It’s only +quarter past six yet, do you think we can make it?” +</p> +<p>“But you can’t go all the way to Baltimore!” +he exclaimed. “What would you and mother do at +that time of night alone after I go to camp? You see, +it isn’t as if I could stay and come back with you.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, we’ll just go to a hotel in Baltimore, won’t +we, Mrs. Cameron? We’ll be all right if we only +get you safe to camp. Do you think we can do it?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, we can do it all right with this car. +But I’m quite sure I ought not to let you do it just +for me. What will your people think?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p> +<p>“I’ve left word that I’ve gone to a friend in +trouble,” twinkled Ruth. “I’ll call them up when +I get to Baltimore, and make it all right with +Auntie. She will trust me.” +</p> +<p>Cameron turned and looked at her wonderingly, +reverently. +</p> +<p>“It’s wonderful that you should do this for me,” +he said in a low tone, quite low, so that the watching +wistful mother could not even guess what he +was saying. +</p> +<p>“It’s not in the least wonderful,” said Ruth +brightly. “Remember the hedge and Chuck Woodcock!” +She was beginning to get her self possession +again. +</p> +<p>“You are paying that old score back in compound +interest,” said Cameron. +</p> +<p>That was a wonderful ride rushing along beneath +the stars, going back to childhood’s days and +getting acquainted again where they left off. Ruth +forgot all about the cause of her wild chase, and the +two young men she had left disconsolate in her +library at home; forgot her own world in this new +beautiful one, wherein her spirit really communed +with another spirit; forgot utterly what Wainwright +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +had said about Cameron as more and more +through their talk she came to see the fineness of +his character. +</p> +<p>They flashed on from one little village to another, +leaving one clustering glimmer of lights in +the distance only to pass to other clustering groups. +It was in their favor that there were not many other +travellers to dispute their way, and they were hindered +very little. Cameron had made the trip many +times and knew the roads well. They did not have +to hesitate and enquire the way. They made good +time. The clocks were striking ten when they +reached the outskirts of Baltimore. +</p> +<p>“Now,” said Ruth in a sweetly imperious tone, +consulting her timepiece to be sure she had counted +the clock strokes correctly, “do you know what you +are going to do, Mr. Corporal? You are going to +land your mother and me at the nearest hotel, and +take the car with you back to camp. You said one +of the fellows had his car down there, so I’m sure +you’ll be able to find a place to put it over night. If +you find a way to send the car back to us in the +morning, well and good. If not your mother and I +will go home by train and the chauffeur can come +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +down to-morrow and bring back the car; or, better +still, you can drive yourself up the next time you +get leave off.” +</p> +<p>There was much argument about the matter +within a brief space of time, but in the end (which +came in five minutes) Ruth had her way, and the +young soldier departed for his camp in the gray car +with ample time to make the short trip, leaving his +mother and Ruth at a Baltimore hotel; after having +promised to call up in the morning and let them +know what he could do about the car. +</p> +<p>Ruth selected a large double room and went at +once to the telephone to call up her aunt. She +found to her relief that that good lady had not yet +returned from her day with a friend in the city, so +that no explanations would be necessary that night. +She left word with the servant that she was in Baltimore +with a friend and would probably be at home +the next day sometime. Then she turned to find +to her dismay that her companion was sitting in a +low-armed chair with tears running down her cheeks. +</p> +<p>“Oh, my dear!” she exclaimed rushing over to +her, “you are all worn out!” +</p> +<p>“Not a bit of it!” sobbed the mother with a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +smile like sunshine through her tears. “I was so +happy I couldn’t keep from crying. Don’t you +ever get that way? I’ve just been watching you and +thinking what a dear beautiful child you are and +how wonderful God has been to send you to help +my boy. Oh, it was so dreadful to me to think of +him going down to camp with those men! My dear, +I smelt liquor on their breath when they came for +him, and I was just crying and praying about it +when you called me up. Of course, I knew my boy +wouldn’t drink, but so many accidents can happen +with automobiles when the driver is drunk! My +dear, I never can thank you enough!” +</p> +<p>They were both too excited to sleep soon, but +long after the mother was asleep Ruth lay awake +going over the whole day and wondering. There +were so many things about the incident of the afternoon +and evening, now that they were over, that +were utterly out of accord with her whole life heretofore. +She felt intuitively that her aunt would +never understand if she were to explain the whole +proceeding. There were so many laws of her little +world of conventionalities that she had transgressed, +and so many qualms of a belated conscience about +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +whether she ought to have done it at all. What +would Cameron think of her, anyway? Her cheeks +burned hot in the dark over that question. Strange +she had not thought of it at all either beforehand or +while she sat beside him during that wonderful ride! +And now the thing that Wainwright had said +shouted itself out to her ears: “Rotten! Rotten! +Rotten!” like a dirge. Suppose he were? It +<i>couldn’t</i> be true. It <i>just couldn’t</i>, but suppose he +were? Well, suppose he were! How was she hurt +by doing a kind act? Having taken that stand +against all her former ideas Ruth had instant +peace and drifted into dreams of what she had been +enjoying, the way suddenly lit by a sleepy remembrance +of Wetherill’s declaration: “He won’t +drink! You can’t make him! It’s been tried again +and again!” There was evidence in his favor. Why +hadn’t she remembered that before? And his +mother! She had been so sure of him! +</p> +<p>The telephone bell wakened her with a message +from camp. His voice greeted her pleasantly with +the word that it was all right, he had reached +camp in plenty of time, found a good place for the +car, and it would be at the hotel at nine o’clock. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +Ruth turned from the phone with a vague disappointment. +He had not said a word of thanks or +good-bye or anything, only that he must hurry. Not +even a word to his mother. But then, of course, +men did not think of those little things, perhaps, as +women did, and maybe it was just as well for him +to take it all as a matter of course. It made it less +embarrassing for her. +</p> +<p>But when they went down to the car, behold he +was in it! +</p> +<p>“I got leave off for the morning,” he explained +smiling. “I told my captain all about how you got +me back in time when I’d missed the train and he +told me to see you as far as Wilmington and catch +the noon train back from there. He’s a peach of a +captain. If my lieutenant had been there I wouldn’t +have got a chance to ask him. I was afraid of that +last night. But for good luck the lieutenant has a +two days’ leave this time. He’s a mess!” +</p> +<p>Ruth looked at him musingly. Was Harry +Wainwright the lieutenant? +</p> +<p>They had a golden morning together, and talked +of many things that welded a friendship already +well begun. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span></p> +<p>“Weren’t you at all frightened last night?” +asked Cameron once, looking at the delicate beauty +of the face beside him and noting the strength and +sweetness of it. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Cameron was dozing in the back seat and +they felt quite alone and free. Ruth looked up at +him frankly: +</p> +<p>“Why, yes, I think I was for a minute or two +while we were behind that barn, but——Did you +ever pray when you were in a trying situation?” +</p> +<p>He looked down earnestly into her face, half +startled at her words: +</p> +<p>“Why, I don’t know that I ever did. I’m not +quite sure if it was praying.” +</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know that I ever did before,” +she went on thoughtfully, “but last night when +those men got out of their car in front of the barn +so near us again, I found myself praying.” She +dropped her eyes half embarrassed: “Just as if I +were a frightened little child I found myself saying: +‘God help us! God help us!’ And right away we +heard that other car coming and the men went away. +It somehow seemed—well, strange! I wondered +if anybody else ever had an experience like that.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span></p> +<p>“I’ve heard of them,” said Cameron gravely. +“I’ve wondered sometimes myself. Do you believe +in God?” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes!” said Ruth quite firmly. “Of course. +What use would there be in anything if there wasn’t +a God?” +</p> +<p>“But do you believe we humans can ever really—well, +<i>find</i> Him? On this earth, I mean.” +</p> +<p>“Why, I don’t know that I ever thought about +it,” she answered bewildered. “Find Him? In +what way do you mean?” +</p> +<p>“Why, get in touch with Him? Get to know +Him, perhaps. Be on such terms with Him that +one could call out in a time like last night, you +know; or—well, say in a battle! I’ve been thinking +a lot about that lately—naturally.” +</p> +<p>“Oh!” gasped Ruth softly, “of course. I +hadn’t thought about that much, either. We’ve +been so thoughtless—and—and sort of happy you +know, just like butterflies, we girls! I haven’t realized +that men were going out to face <i>Death</i>!” +</p> +<p>“It isn’t that I’m afraid to die,” said Cameron +proudly lifting his chin as if dying were a small +matter, “not just the dying part. I reckon I’ve +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +been through worse than that a dozen times. That +wouldn’t last long. It’s—the other part. I have a +feeling there’ll be a little something more expected +of me than just to have tried to get the most fun out +of life. I’ve been thinking if there is a God He’d +expect us to find it out and make things straight +between us somehow. I suppose I don’t make myself +very plain. I don’t believe I know myself just +what I mean.” +</p> +<p>“I think I understand just a little,” said Ruth, +“I have never thought about it before, but I’m +going to now. It’s something we ought to think +about, I guess. In a sense it’s something that each +one of us has to think, whether we are going into +battle or not, isn’t it?” +</p> +<p>“I suppose it is, only we never realize it when +things are going along all right,” said Cameron. +“It seems queer that everybody that’s ever lived +on this earth has had this question to face sooner or +later and most of them haven’t done much about it. +The few people who profess to have found a way to +meet it we call cranks, or else pick flaws in the way +they live; although it does seem to me that if I +really found God so I was sure He was there and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +cared about me, I’d manage to live a little decenter +life than some do.” +</p> +<p>They drifted into other topics and all too soon +they reached Wilmington and had to say good-bye. +But the thought stayed with Ruth more or less during +the days that followed, and crept into her letters +when she wrote to Corporal Cameron, as she did +quite often in these days; and still no solution had +come to the great question which was so like the one +of old, “What shall I do to be saved?” It came +and went during the days that followed, and now +and again the fact that it had originated in a talk +with Cameron clashed badly in her mind with that +word “Rotten” that Wainwright had used about +him. So that at last she resolved to talk to her +cousin, Captain La Rue, the next time he came up. +</p> +<p>“Cousin Captain,” she said, “do you know a +boy at your camp from Bryne Haven named John +Cameron?” +</p> +<p>“Indeed I do!” said the captain. +</p> +<p>“What kind of a man is he?” +</p> +<p>“The best young man I know in every way,” +answered the captain promptly. “If the world +were made up of men like him it would be a pretty +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +good place in which to live. Do you know him?” +</p> +<p>“A little,” said Ruth evasively, with a satisfied +smile on her lips. “His mother is in our Red Cross +now. She thinks he’s about right, of course, but +mothers usually do, I guess. I’ll have to tell her +what you said. It will please her. He used to be in +school with me years ago. I haven’t seen much of +him since.” +</p> +<p>“Well, all I have to say is, improve your +acquaintance if you get the chance. He’s worth ten +to one of your society youths that loll around here +almost every time I come.” +</p> +<p>“Now, Cousin Captain!” chided Ruth. But +she went off smiling and she kept all his words in +her heart. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +<h2>XII</h2> +</div> + +<p>Corporal Cameron did not soon return to his +native town. An epidemic of measles broke out in +camp just before Thanksgiving and pursued its +tantalizing course through his special barracks with +strenuous vigor. Quarantine was put on for three +weeks, and was but lifted for a few hours when a +new batch of cases came down. Seven weeks more +of isolation followed, when the men were not allowed +away from the barracks except for long lonely +walks, or gallops across camp. Even the mild excitements +of the Y.M.C.A. huts were not for them +in these days. They were much shut up to themselves, +and latent tendencies broke loose and ran +riot. Shooting crap became a passion. They +gambled as long as they had a dollar left or could +get credit on the next month’s pay day. Then they +gambled for their shirts and their bayonets. All +day long whenever they were in the barracks, you +could hear the rattle of the dice, and the familiar +call of “Phoebe,” “Big Dick,” “Big Nick,” and +“Little Joe.” When they were not on drill the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +men would infest the barracks for hours at a time, +gathered in crouching groups about the dice, the air +thick and blue with cigarette smoke; while others +had nothing better to do than to sprawl on their +cots and talk; and from their talk Cameron often +turned away nauseated. The low ideals, the open +boasting of shame, the matter-of-course conviction +that all men and most women were as bad as themselves, +filled him with a deep boiling rage, and he +would close his book or throw down the paper with +which he was trying to while the hour, and fling +forth into the cold air for a solitary ride or walk. +</p> +<p>He was sitting thus a cold cheerless December +day with a French book he had recently sent for, +trying to study a little and prepare himself for the +new country to which he was soon going. +</p> +<p>The door of the barracks opened letting in a +rush of cold air, and closed again quickly. A tall +man in uniform with the red triangle on his arm +stood pulling off his woolen gloves and looking +about him. Nobody paid any attention to him. +Cameron was deep in his book and did not even +notice him. Off at his left a new crap game was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +just starting. The phraseology beat upon his accustomed +ears like the buzz of bees or mosquitos. +</p> +<p>“I’ll shoot a buck!” +</p> +<p>“You’re faded!” +</p> +<p>“Come on now there, dice! Remember the +baby’s shoes!” +</p> +<p>Cameron had ceased to hear the voices. He was +struggling with a difficult French idiom. +</p> +<p>The stranger took his bearings deliberately and +walked over to Cameron, sitting down with a +friendly air on the nearest cot. +</p> +<p>“Would you be interested in having one of my +little books?” he asked, and his voice had a clear +ring that brought Cameron’s thoughts back to the +barracks again. He looked up for a curt refusal. +He did not wish to be bothered now, but something +in the young man’s earnest face held him. Y.M.C.A. +men in general were well enough, but Cameron +wasn’t crazy about them, especially when they +were young. But this one had a look about him +that proclaimed him neither a slacker nor a sissy. +Cameron hesitated: +</p> +<p>“What kind of a book?” he asked in a somewhat +curt manner. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span></p> +<p>The boy, for he was only a boy though he was +tall as a man, did not hedge but went straight to the +point, looking eagerly at the soldier: +</p> +<p>“A pocket Testament,” he said earnestly, and +laid in Cameron’s hand a little book with limp +leather covers. Cameron took it up half curiously, +and then looked into the other’s face almost coldly. +</p> +<p>“You selling them?” There was a covert sneer +in his tone. +</p> +<p>“No, no!” said the other quickly, “I’m giving +them away for a promise. You see, I had an accident +and one of my eyes was put out a while ago. +Of course, they wouldn’t take me for a soldier, and +the next best thing was to be all the help I could to +the fellows that are going to fight. I figure that +book is the best thing I can bring you.” +</p> +<p>The manly simplicity of the boy held Cameron’s +gaze firmly fixed. +</p> +<p>“H’m! In what way?” Cameron was turning +the leaves curiously, enjoying the silky fineness and +the clear-cut print and soft leather binding. Life +in the barracks was so much in the rough that any +bit of refinement was doubly appreciated. He liked +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +the feel of the little book and had a curious longing +to be its possessor. +</p> +<p>“Why, it gives you a pretty straight line on +where we’re all going, what is expected of us, and +how we’re to be looked out for. It shows one how to +know God and be ready to meet death if we have to.” +</p> +<p>“What makes you think anyone can know God +on this earth?” asked Cameron sharply. +</p> +<p>“Because <i>I</i> have,” said the astonishing young +man quite as if he were saying he were related to the +President or something like that. +</p> +<p>“You have! How did you get to know Him?” +</p> +<p>“Through that little book and by following its +teachings.” +</p> +<p>Cameron turned over the pages again, catching +familiar phrases here and there as he had heard +them sometimes in Sunday school years ago. +</p> +<p>“You said something about a promise. What +was it?” +</p> +<p>“That you’ll carry the book with you always, +and read at least a verse in it every day.” +</p> +<p>“Well, that doesn’t sound hard,” mused Cameron. +“I guess I could stand for that.” +</p> +<p>“The book is yours, then. Would you like to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span> +put your name to that acceptance card in the front +of the book?” +</p> +<p>“What’s that?” asked Cameron sharply as if +he had discovered the fly in the ointment for which +he had all along been suspicious. +</p> +<p>“Well, I call it the first step in knowing God. +It’s your act of acceptance of the way God has +planned for you to be forgiven and saved from sin. +If you sign that you say you will accept Christ as +your Saviour.” +</p> +<p>“But suppose you don’t believe in Christ? I +can’t commit myself to anything like that till I +know about it?” +</p> +<p>“Well, you see, that’s the first move in getting +to know God,” said the stranger with a smile. +“God says he wants you to believe in his Son. +He asks that much of you if you want to get to +know Him.” +</p> +<p>Cameron looked at him with bewildered interest. +Was here a possible answer to the questions of his +heart. Why did this curious boy have a light in his +face that never came from earth or air? What +was there about his simple earnestness that was +so convincing? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span></p> +<p>Another crap game had started up on the other +side of them. A musically inclined private was +playing ragtime on the piano, and another was +trying to accompany him on the banjo. The air +was hazier than ever. It seemed strange to be talking +of such things in these surroundings: +</p> +<p>“Let’s get out of here and walk!” said Cameron, +“I’d like to understand what you mean.” +</p> +<p>For two hours they tramped across the frozen +ground and talked, arguing this way and that, much +drawn toward one another. At last in the solemn +background of a wall of whispering pines that shut +them away from the stark gray rows of barracks, +Cameron took out his fountain pen and with his foot +on a prone log, opened the little book on his knee +and wrote his name and the date. Then he put it in +his breast pocket with the solemn feeling that he +had taken some kind of a great step toward what his +soul had been longing to find. They knelt on the +frozen ground beside that log and the stranger +prayed simply as if he were talking to a friend. +Thereafter that spot was hallowed ground to Cameron, +to which he came often to think and to read +his little book. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></p> +<p>That night he wrote to Ruth, telling in a shy +way of his meeting with the Testament man and +about the little book. After he had mailed the letter +he walked back again to the spot among the pines +and standing there looked up to the stars and somehow +committed himself again to the covenant he had +signed in the little book. It was then that he decided +that if he got home again after quarantine +before he went over, he would unite with the church. +Somehow the stranger’s talk that afternoon had +cleared away his objections. On his way back to +the barracks across the open field, up through the +woods and over the crest of the hill toward the road +as he walked thinking deeply, suddenly from down +below on the road a familiar voice floated up to him. +He parted the branches of oak underbrush that +made a screen between him and the road and +glanced down to get his bearings the better to avoid +an unwelcome meeting. It was inevitable when one +came near Lieutenant Wainwright that he would +overhear some part of a conversation for he had a +carrying voice which he never sought to restrain. +</p> +<p>“You’re sure she’s a girl with pep, are you? I +don’t want to bother with any other kind. All right. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span> +Tell her to wait for me in the Washington station +to-morrow evening at eight. I’ll look for her at the +right of the information booth. Tell her to wear a +red carnation so I’ll know her. I’ll show her a good +time, all right, if she’s the right sort. I’ll trust you +that she’s a good looker!” +</p> +<p>Cameron could not hear the response, but the +two were standing silhouetted against a distant +light, and something in the attitude of the other +man held his attention. For a moment he could not +place him, then it flashed across his mind that this +was the soldier Chambers, who had been the means +of his missing the train at Chester on the memorable +occasion when Ruth Macdonald had saved the day. +It struck him as a strange thing that these two +enemies of his whom he would have supposed to be +strangers to one another should be talking thus intimately. +To make sure of the man’s identity he +waited until the two parted and Wainwright went +his way, and then at a distance followed the other +one until he was quite certain. He walked back +thoughtfully trying to make it out. Had Wainwright +then been at the bottom of his trouble that +day? It began to seem quite possible. And how +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +had Ruth Macdonald happened to be so opportunely +present at the right moment? How had she +happened to turn down that road, a road that was +seldom used by people going to Baltimore? It was +all very strange and had never been satisfactorily +explained. Ruth had evaded the question most +plausibly every time he had brought it up. Could +it be that Wainwright had told her of a plot against +him and she had reached out to help him? His heart +leaped at the thought. Then at once he was sure +that Wainwright had never told her, unless perhaps +he had told some tale against him, and made +him the butt of a great joke. Well, if he had she +had cared enough to defend him and help him out +without ever giving away the fact that she knew. +But here, too, lay a thorn to disturb him. Why +had Ruth Macdonald not told him the plain truth +if she knew? Was she trying to shield Harry +Wainwright? Could she really care for that +contemptible scoundrel? +</p> +<p>The thought in all its phases tore his mind and +kept him awake for hours, for the crux of the whole +matter was that he was afraid that Ruth Macdonald +was going to marry Lieutenant Wainwright, and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +he knew that it was not only for her sake, but for +his also that he did not want this—that it was agony +even to contemplate. +</p> +<p>He told himself, of course, that his interest was +utterly unselfish. That she was nothing to him but +a friend and never would be, and that while it might +be hard to see her belong to some fine man and know +he never might be more than a passing friend, still it +would not be like seeing her tied to a rotten unprincipled +fellow like Wainwright. The queer part of +it was that the word “rotten” in connection with his +enemy played a great part in his thoughts that night. +</p> +<p>Somewhere in the watches of the night a memory +came to him of the covenant he had made that day +and a vague wistful reaching of his heart after the +Christ to whom he was supposed to have surrendered +his life. He wondered if a Christ such as the +stranger had claimed He had, would take an interest +in the affairs of Ruth Macdonald. Surely, such +a flower of a girl would be protected if there was +protection for anyone! And somehow he managed +a queer little prayer for her, the first he had tried to +put up. It helped him a little, and toward morning +he fell asleep. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></p> +<p>A few days later in glancing through his newly +acquired Testament he came upon a verse which +greatly troubled him for a time. His eye had +caught it at random and somehow it lodged in +his mind: +</p> +<p>“Forbearing one another, and forgiving one +another, if any man have a quarrel against any: +even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye.” +</p> +<p>Somehow the principle of that verse did not fit +with his proud spirit. He thought instantly of +Wainwright’s distasteful face and form. It seemed +to loom before him with a smug triumphal sneer. +His enmity toward the fellow had been of years +standing, and had been deepened many times by +unforgetable acts. There was nothing about Wainwright +to make one forgive him. There was +everything about him to make one want to punish +him. When the verse first confronted Cameron he +felt a rising indignation that there had been so much +as a connection in his thoughts with his quarrel with +Wainwright. Why, anybody that knew him knew +Wainwright was wrong. God must think so, too. +That verse might apply to little quarrels but not to +his feeling about the way Wainwright had treated +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +him ever since they were children. That was not to +be borne, of course. Those words he had called +Cameron’s father! How they made his blood boil +even now! No, he would not forbear nor forgive +Wainwright. God would not want him to do so. +It was right he should be against him forever! +Thus he dismissed the suggestion and turned to the +beginning of his testament, having determined to +find the Christ of whom the stranger had set him +in search. +</p> +<p>On the flyleaf of the little book the stranger +had written a few words: +</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“And ye shall find me, when ye shall search for me with +all your heart.”—Jeremiah xxix: 13. +</p> +</div> +<p>That meant no half-way business. He could +understand that. Well, he was willing to put himself +into the search fully. He understood that it +was worth a whole-hearted search if one were really +to find a God as a reward. +</p> +<p>That night he wrote a letter to the minister in +Bryne Haven asking for an interview when next +he was able to get leave from camp. In the meantime +he kept out of the way of Wainwright most +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +adroitly, and found many ways to avoid a meeting. +</p> +<p>There had been three awful days when his +“peach of a captain” about whom he had spoken +to Ruth, had been called away on some military +errand and Wainwright had been the commanding +officer. They had been days of gall and wormwood +to Cameron, for his proud spirit could not bend to +salute the man whom he considered a scoundrel, +and Wainwright took a fine delight in using his +power over his enemy to the limit. If it had not +been for the unexpected return of the captain a day +earlier than planned, Cameron might have had to +suffer humiliations far greater than he did. +</p> +<p>The bitterness between the two grew stronger, +and Cameron went about with his soul boiling with +rage and rebellion. It was only when Ruth’s letters +came that he forgot it all for a few minutes and +lifted his thoughts to higher things. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +<h2>XIII</h2> +</div> + +<p>It was a clear, crisp day in March with just a +smell of Spring in the air, when Cameron finally +united with the church. +</p> +<p>He had taken a long time to think about it. +Quarantine had extended itself away into February, +and while his company had had its regular +drill and hard work, there had been no leave from +camp, no going to Y.M.C.A. huts, and no visiting +canteens. They had been shut up to the company +of the members of their own barracks, and there +were times when that palled upon Cameron to a +distressing degree. Once when it had snowed for +three days, and rained on the top of it, and a chill +wind had swept into the cracks and crannies of the +barracks, and poured down from the ventilators in +the roofs. The old stoves were roaring their best to +keep up good cheer, and the men lay on their cots +in rows talking; telling their vile stories, one after +another, each to sound bigger than the last, some +mere lads boasting of wild orgies, and all finally +drifting into a chat on a sort of philosophy of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +lowest ideals. Cameron lay on his cot trying to +sleep, for he had been on guard all night, and a +letter from Ruth was in his inside pocket with a +comfortable crackle, but the talk that drifted about +him penetrated even his army blankets when he +drew them up over his ears. +</p> +<p>The fellows had arrived at a point where a +young lad from Texas had stated with a drawl that +all girls were more or less bad; that this talk of the +high standards of womanhood was all bosh; that +there was one standard for men and women, yes, +but it was man’s standard, not woman’s, as was +written sometimes. White womanhood! Bah! +There was no such thing! +</p> +<p>In vain Cameron stuffed the blanket about his +ears, resolutely shut his eyes and tried to sleep. His +very blood boiled in his veins. The letter in his +pocket cried out to be exonerated from this wholesale +blackening. Suddenly Cameron flung the +blanket from him and sprang to his feet with a +single motion, a tall soldier with a white flame of +wrath in his face, his eyes flashing with fire. They +called him in friendly derision the “Silent Corporal” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +because he kept so much to himself, but now +he blazed forth at them: +</p> +<p>“You lie, Kelly! You know you do! The +whole lot of you are liars! You know that rot +you’ve been talking isn’t true. You know that it’s +to cover up your own vile deeds and to excuse your +own lustful passions that you talk this way and try +to persuade your hearts and consciences that you +are no worse than the girls you have dishonored! +But it isn’t so and you know it! There <i>are</i> good +women! There always have been and there always +will be! You, every one of you, know at least one. +You are dishonoring your mothers and your sisters +when you talk that way. You are worse than the +beasts you are going out to fight. That’s the rotten +stuff they are teaching. They call it Kultur! +You’ll never win out against them if you go in that +spirit, for it’s their spirit and nothing more. You’ve +got to go clean! If there’s a God in heaven He’s in +this war, and it’s got to be a clean war! And you’ve +got to begin by thinking differently of women or +you’re just as bad as the Huns!” +</p> +<p>With that he seized his poncho, stamped out into +the storm, and tramped for two hours with a driving +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +sleet in his face, his thoughts a fury of holy +anger against unholy things, and back of it all the +feeling that he was the knight of true womanhood. +She had sent him forth and no man in his presence +should defile the thought of her. It was during +that tramp that he had made up his mind to ally +himself with God’s people. Whether it would do +any good in the long run in his search for God or +not, whether he even was sure he believed in God or +not, he would do that much if he were permitted. +</p> +<p>His interview with the minister had not made +things much plainer. He had been told that he +would grow into things. That the church was the +shepherd-fold of the soul, that he would be nurtured +and taught, that by and by these doubts and fears +would not trouble him. He did not quite see it, +how he was to be nurtured on the distant battlefield +of France, but it was a mystical thing, anyway, +and he accepted the statement and let it go at +that. One thing that stuck in his heart and troubled +him deeply was the way the minister talked to him +about love and fellowship with his fellow men. As +a general thing, Cameron had no trouble with his +companions in life, but there were one or two, notably +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +Wainwright and a young captain friend of +his at camp, named Wurtz, toward whom his enmity +almost amounted to hatred. +</p> +<p>He was not altogether sure that the ministers +suggestion that he might love the sinner and hate +the sin would hold good with regard to Wainwright; +but there had been only a brief time before the communion +service and he had had to let the matter go. +His soul was filled with a holy uplifting as he +stepped out from the pastor’s study and followed +into the great church. +</p> +<p>It had startled him just a little to find so many +people there. In contemplating this act of allying +himself with God he had always thought of it as +being between himself and God, with perhaps the +minister and an elder or two. He sat down in the +place indicated for him much disturbed in spirit. +It had always been an annoyance to him to be +brought to the notice of his fellow townsmen, and +a man in uniform in these days was more than ever +an object of interest. His troubled gaze was downward +during the opening hymns and prayers. But +when he came to stand and take his vows he lifted +his eyes, and there, off at one side where the seats +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +grouped in a sort of transept, he caught a glimpse +of Ruth Macdonald standing beside her tall Captain-cousin +who was home for the day, and there +was a light in her eyes that steadied him and +brought back the solemnity of the moment once +more. It thrilled him to think she was there. He +had not realized before that this must be her church. +In fact, he had not thought of it as being any +church in particular, but as being a part of the great +church invisible to which all God’s children belonged. +It had not occurred to him until that morning, +either, that his mother might be hurt that he +had not chosen her church. But when he spoke to +her about it she shook her head and smiled. She +was only glad of what he was doing. There were +no regrets. She was too broad minded to stop about +creeds. She was sitting there meekly over by the +wall now, her hands folded quietly in her lap, tears +of joy in her eyes. She, too, had seen Ruth Macdonald +and was glad, but she wondered who the tall +captain by her side might be. +</p> +<p>It happened that Cameron was the only person +uniting by confession at that time, for the quarantine +had held him beyond the time the pastor had +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +spoken of when so many were joining, and he stood +alone, tall and handsome in his uniform, and +answered in a clear, deep voice: “I do,” “I will!” +as the vows were put upon him one by one. Every +word he meant from his heart, a longing for the +God who alone could satisfy the longings of his soul. +</p> +<p>He thrilled with strange new enthusiasm as the +congregation of church members were finally called +upon to rise and receive him into their fellowship, +and looking across he saw Ruth Macdonald again +and his beloved Captain La Rue standing together +while everybody sang: +</p> +<table summary='poetry' style='margin:0 auto'><tr><td> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Blest be the tie that binds</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2em;'>Our hearts in Christian love;</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>The fellowship of kindred minds</p> +<p style='margin: 0 0 0 2em;'>Is like to that above.</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p>But when the bread and the wine had been partaken +of, the solemn prayer of dedication spoken, +the beautiful service was over, and the rich tones of +the organ were swelling forth, he suddenly felt +strange and shy among all that crowd of people +whom he knew by sight only. The elders and some +of the other men and women shook hands with him, +and he was trying to slip away and find his mother +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +when a kindly hand was laid upon his shoulder and +there stood the captain with Ruth beside him, and +a warm hand shake of welcome into the church. +</p> +<p>“I’m so glad,” he said, “that you have taken +this step. You will never regret it, Cameron. It is +good that we can be of the same company here if we +have failed in other ways.” Then turning to Ruth +he said: +</p> +<p>“I didn’t tell you, did I, Ruth, that I’ve failed +in trying to get Cameron transferred to my division? +I did everything I could, but they’ve turned +down my application flatly. It seems like stupidity +to me, for it was just the place for which he was +most fitted, but I guess it’s because he was too much +of a man to stay in a quiet sector and do such work. +If he had been maimed or half blinded they might +have considered him. They need him in his present +place, and I am the poorer for it.” +</p> +<p>There was a glow in Ruth’s eyes as she put her +hand in Cameron’s and said simply: “I’m glad +you’re one of us now,” that warmed his heart with a +great gladness. +</p> +<p>“I didn’t know you were a member,” he said +wonderingly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span></p> +<p>“Why, yes, I’ve been a member since I was +fourteen,” she said, and suddenly he felt that he had +indeed come into a holy and blessed communion. +If he had not yet found God, at least he was standing +on the same ground with one of his holy +children. +</p> +<p>That was the last time he got home before he +sailed. Shipping quarantine was put on his company +the very next week, the camp was closed to +visitors, and all passes annulled. The word came +that they would be going over in a few days, but +still they lingered, till the days grew into three +weeks, and the Spring was fully upon them in all its +beauty, touching even the bare camp with a fringe +of greenness and a sprinkle of wild bloom in the +corners where the clearing had not been complete. +</p> +<p>Added to his other disappointments, a direful +change had taken place at camp. The “peach of a +captain” had been raised to the rank of major and +Captain Wurtz had been put in his place. It seemed +as if nothing worse could be. +</p> +<p>The letters had been going back and forth rather +often of late, and Cameron had walked to the loneliest +spot in the camp in the starlight and had it out +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +with himself. He knew now that Ruth Macdonald +was the only girl in all the world to him. He also +knew that there was not a chance in a thousand that +he could ever be more to her than he now was. He +knew that the coming months held pain for him, +and yet, he would not go back and undo this beautiful +friendship, no, not for all the pain that might +come. It was worth it, every bit. +</p> +<p>He had hoped to get one more trip home, and +she had wanted to see the camp, had said that perhaps +when the weather got warmer she might run +down some day with his mother, but now the quarantine +was on and that was out of the question. +He walked alone to the places he would have liked +to show her, and then with a sigh went to the telephone +office and waited two hours till he got a connection +through to her house, just to tell her how +sorry he was that he could not come up as he had +expected and take that ride with her that she had +promised in her last letter. Somehow it comforted +him to hear her voice. She had asked if there would +be no lifting of the quarantine before they left, no +opportunity to meet him somewhere and say good-bye, +and he promised that he would let her know if +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +any such chance came; but he had little hope, for +company after company were being sent away in +the troop trains now, hour after hour, and he might +be taken any minute. +</p> +<p>Then one day he called her up and told her that +the next Saturday and Sunday the camp was to be +thrown open to visitors, and if she could come down +with his mother he would meet them at the Hostess’ +House and they could spend the day together. Ruth +promptly accepted the invitation and promised to +arrange it all with his mother and take the first train +down Saturday morning. After he had hung up +the receiver and paid his bill he walked away from +the little telephone headquarters in a daze of joy. +She had promised to come! For one whole day he +would have her to himself! She was willing to come +with his mother! Then as he passed the officers’ +headquarters it occurred to him that perhaps she +had other interests in coming to camp than just to +see him, and he frowned in the darkness and his +heart burned hot within him. What if they should +meet Wainwright! How the day would be spoiled! +</p> +<p>With this trouble on his mind he went quite +early in the morning down as near to the little +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +trolley station as he could get, for since the quarantine +had been put on no soldiers without a special +pass were allowed beyond a certain point, which was +roped off about the trolley station. Sadly, Cameron +took his place in the front rank, and stood with +folded arms to wait. He knew he would have some +time to stand before he could look for his guests, +but the crowd was always so great at the train times +that it was well to get a good place early. So he +stood and thought his sad thoughts, almost wishing +he had not asked them to come, as he realized more +and more what unpleasantness might arise in case +Wainwright should find out who were his guests. +He was sure that the lieutenant was not above sending +him away on a foolish errand, or getting him +into a humiliating situation before his friends. +</p> +<p>As he stood thus going over the situation and +trying to plan how he might spirit his guests away +to some pleasant spot where Wainwright would not +be likely to penetrate, he heard the pompous voice +of the lieutenant himself, and slipping behind a +comrade turned his face away so that he would not +be recognized. +</p> +<p>“Yes, I got special leave for three days!” proclaimed +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +the satisfied voice, and Cameron’s heart +bounded up so joyously that he would have almost +been willing then and there to put aside his vow not +to salute him, and throw his arms about his enemy. +Going away for three days. That meant two +things! First that Wainwright would not have to +be thought of in making his plans, and second that +they were evidently not going to move before Wainwright +got back. They surely would not have +given him leave if the company was to be sent away +that day. A third exultant thought followed; +Wainwright was going home presumably to see +Ruth and Ruth would not be there! Perhaps, oh +<i>perhaps</i> he might be able to persuade her and his +mother to stay over Sunday! He hardly dared to +hope, however, for Ruth Macdonald might think +it presumptuous in him to suggest it, and again she +might wish to go home to meet Wainwright. And, +too, where could they sleep if they did stay. It was +hopeless, of course. They would have to go back to +Baltimore or to Washington for the night and that +would be a hard jaunt. +</p> +<p>However, Ruth Macdonald had thought of such +a possibility herself, and when she and Mrs. Cameron +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +stepped down from the Philadelphia train at +the small country station that had suddenly become +an important point because of the great camp that +had sprung up within a stone’s throw of it, she +looked around enquiringly at the little cottage +homes in sight and said to her companion: +</p> +<p>“Would it be very dreadful in us to discover if +there is some place here where we could stay over +night in case John’s company does not go just yet +and we find we would be allowed to see him again +on Sunday?” +</p> +<p>She knew by the sudden lighting of the mother’s +wistful face that she had read aright the sighs half +stifled that she had heard on the train when the +mother had thought she was not noticing. +</p> +<p>“Oh, do you suppose we could stay?” The +voice was full of yearning. +</p> +<p>“Well, we can find out, at least. Anyhow, I’m +going in here to see whether they would take us in +case we could. It looks like a nice neat place.” +</p> +<p>Ruth pulled open the gate, ran up the steps of +the pleasant porch shaded with climbing roses, and +knocked timidly at the open door. +</p> +<p>A broad, somewhat frowsy woman appeared +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +and surveyed her coolly with that apprising glance +that a native often gives to a stranger; took in the +elegant simplicity of her quiet expensive gown and +hat, lingering with a jealous glance on the exquisite +hand bag she carried, then replied apathetically to +Ruth’s question: +</p> +<p>“No, we’re all full. We ain’t got any room. +You might try down to the Salvation Army Hut. +They got a few rooms down there. It’s just been +built. They might take you in. It’s down the road +a piece, that green building to the right. You can’t +miss it. You’ll see the sign.” +</p> +<p>Ruth caught her breath, thanked her and hastened +back to her companion. Salvation Army! +That was eccentric, queer, but it would be perfectly +respectable! Or would it? Would Aunt Rhoda +disapprove very much? Somehow the Salvation +Army was associated in her mind with slums and +drunkards. But, at least, they might be able to +direct her to a respectable place. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Cameron, too, looked dubious. This having +a society girl to chaperone was new business for +her. She had never thought much about it, but +somehow she would hardly have associated the Salvation +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +Army with the Macdonald family in any +way. She paused and looked doubtfully at the unpretentious +little one-story building that stretched +away capaciously and unostentatiously from the +grassy roadside. +</p> +<p>“<span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Salvation Army</span>” arose in bold inviting +letters from the roof, and “Ice Cold Lemonade” +beckoned from a sign on the neat screen door. Ruth +was a bit excited. +</p> +<p>“I’m going in!” she declared and stepped +within the door, Mrs. Cameron following half +fearfully. +</p> +<p>The room which they entered was long and +clean and pleasant. Simple white curtains draped +the windows, many rush-bottomed big rocking +chairs were scattered about, a long desk or table ran +along one side of the room with writing materials, +a piano stood open with music on its rack, and +shelves of books and magazines filled the front wall. +</p> +<p>Beyond the piano were half a dozen little tables, +white topped and ready for a hungry guest. At +the back a counter ran the width of the room, with +sandwiches and pies under glass covers, and a bright +coffee urn steaming suggestively at one end. Behind +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +it through an open door was a view of the +kitchen, neat, handy, crude, but all quite clean, and +through this door stepped a sweet-faced woman, +wiping her hands on her gingham apron and coming +toward them with a smile of welcome as if they +were expected guests. It was all so primitive, and +yet there was something about it that bore the dignity +of refinement, and puzzled this girl from her +sheltered home. She was almost embarrassed to +make her enquiry, but the hearty response put her +quite at her ease, as if she had asked a great favor +of another lady in a time of stress: +</p> +<p>“I’m so sorry, but our rooms are all taken,” +the woman waved a slender hand toward the long +side of the room and Ruth noticed for the first time +that a low partition ran the length of the room at +one side with doors. Mechanically she counted +them, eight of them, neat, gray-painted doors. +Could these be rooms? How interesting! She had +a wild desire to see inside them. Rooms! They +were more like little stalls, for the partitions did +not reach all the way to the ceiling. A vision of +her own spacious apartment at home came floating +in vague contrast. Then one of the doors opposite +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +her opened as its occupant, a quiet little elderly +woman, came out, and she had a brief glimpse of +the white curtained window, the white draped comfortable +looking bed, a row of calico curtained hooks +on the wall, and a speck of a wash stand with tin +pitcher and basin in the corner, all as clean and new +as the rest of the place. She swiftly decided to stay +here if there was any chance. Another look at the +sweet face of the presiding woman who was trying +to make them understand how crowded everything +was, and how many mothers there were with sons +who were going that night or the next, and who +wanted to be near them, determined her. She was +saying there was just a chance in case a certain +mother from Boston who had written her did not +arrive at five o’clock: +</p> +<p>“But we ought not to take a chance,” said +Cameron’s mother, looking at the eager faced girl +with a cautious wistfulness. “What could we do +if night came and we had no place to stay?” +</p> +<p>Ruth cast her eyes about. +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t we sit in a couple of those rocking +chairs all night?” she asked eagerly. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span></p> +<p>The Salvation Army woman laughed affectionately +as if she had found a kindred spirit: +</p> +<p>“Why, dearie, I could give you a couple of cots +out here in the dining room if you didn’t mind. I +wouldn’t have pillows, but I think I could get you +some blankets.” +</p> +<p>“Then we’ll stay,” said Ruth triumphantly before +Mrs. Cameron could protest, and went away +feeling that she had a new friend in the wise sweet +Salvation Army woman. In five minutes more +they were seated in the trolley on their way into +the camp. +</p> +<p>“I’m afraid your people would not like you to +stay in such a place,” began Mrs. Cameron dubiously, +though her eyes shone with a light that belied +her words. +</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” said Ruth with a bewildering +smile, “it is as clean as a pin and I’m very much +excited about staying there. It will be an adventure. +I’ve never known much about the Salvation +Army before, except that they are supposed to be +very good people.” +</p> +<p>“There might be some rough characters——” +</p> +<p>“Well, I guess they can’t hurt us with that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +good woman around, and anyhow, you’re going to +stay till your son goes!” laughingly declared Ruth. +</p> +<p>“Well, we’ll see what John says,” said his +mother with a sigh, “I can’t let you do anything—questionable.” +</p> +<p>“Please, Mrs. Cameron,” pleaded Ruth, “let +us forget things like that this trip and just have a +happy time.” +</p> +<p>The mother smiled, sadly, wistfully, through a +mist of tears. She could not help thinking how +wonderful it would have been if there had been no +war and her dear boy could have had this sweet +wholesome girl for a friend. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +<h2>XIV</h2> +</div> + +<p>The sun was shining gloriously when the two +stepped from the trolley at the little camp station +and looked bewildered about them at the swarms +of uniforms and boyish faces, searching for their +one. They walked through the long lane lined with +soldiers, held back by the great rope and guarded +by Military Police. Each crowding eager soldier +had an air of expectancy upon him, a silence upon +him that showed the realization of the parting that +was soon to be. In many faces deep disappointment +was growing as the expected ones did not +arrive. Ruth’s throat was filled with oppression +and tears as she looked about and suddenly felt the +grip of war, and realized that all these thousands +were bearing this bitterness of parting, perhaps forever. +Death stalking up and down a battlefield, +waiting to take his pick of them! This was the +picture that flashed before her shrinking eyes. +</p> +<p>It was almost like a solemn ceremony, this walking +down the lane of silent waiting soldiers, to be +claimed by their one. It seemed to bring the two +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +young people nearer in heart than they had ever +been before, when at the end of the line Cameron +met them with a salute, kissed his mother, and then +turned to Ruth and took her hand with an earnest +grave look of deep pleasure in his eyes. +</p> +<p>He led them up under the big trees in front of +the Hostess’ House while all around were hushed +voices, and teary eyes. That first moment of meeting +was the saddest and the quietest of the day with +everybody, except the last parting hour when mute +grief sat unchecked upon every face, and no one +stopped to notice if any man were watching, but +just lived out his real heart self, and showed his +mother or his sister or his sweetheart how much he +loved and suffered. +</p> +<p>That was a day which all the little painted butterflies +of temptation should have been made to +witness. There were no painted ladies coming +through the gates that day. This was no time for +friendships like that. Death was calling, and the +deep realities of life stood out and demanded +attention. +</p> +<p>The whole thing was unlike anything Ruth had +ever witnessed before. It was a new world. It was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +as if the old conventions which had heretofore +hedged her life were dropped like a garment revealing +life as it really was, and every one walked +unashamed, because the great sorrow and need of +all had obliterated the little petty rules of life, and +small passions were laid aside, while hearts throbbed +in a common cause. +</p> +<p>He waited on them like a prince, seeming to +anticipate every need, and smooth every annoyance. +He led them away from the throng to the quiet hillside +above the camp where spring had set her dainty +foot-print. He spread down his thick army blanket +for them to sit upon and they held sweet converse +for an hour or two. He told them of camp life and +what was expected to be when they started over, +and when they reached the other side. +</p> +<p>His mother was brave and sensible. Sometimes +the tears would brim over at some suggestion of +what her boy was soon to bear or do, but she wore a +smile as courageous and sweet as any saint could +wear. The boy saw and grew tender over it. A +bird came and sang over their heads, and the moment +was sweet with springing things and quiet +with the brooding tenderness of parting that hung +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +over the busy camp. Ruth had one awful moment +of adjustment when she tried to think how her aunt +Rhoda would look if she could see her now; then +she threw the whole thing to the winds and resolved +to enjoy the day. She saw that while the conventions +by which she had been reared were a good +thing in general, perhaps, they certainly were not +meant to hamper or hinder the true and natural +life of the heart, or, if they were, they were not +<i>good</i> things; and she entered into the moment with +her full sympathy. Perhaps Aunt Rhoda would not +understand, but the girl she had brought up knew +that it was good to be here. Her aunt was away from +home with an invalid friend on a short trip so there +had been no one to question Ruth’s movements +when she decided to run down to Washington with +a “friend from the Red Cross” and incidentally +visit the camp a little while. +</p> +<p>He had them over the camp by and by, to the +trenches and dummies, and all the paraphernalia +of war preparation. Then they went back to the +Hostess’ House and fell into line to get dinner. As +Cameron stood looking down at Ruth in the +crowded line in the democratic way which was the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +only way there was, it came over them both how +strange and wonderful it was that they two who +had seen each other so little in their lives and who +had come from such widely separated social circles +should be there together in that beautiful intimacy. +It came to them both at once and flashed its thought +from one pair of eyes to the other and back again. +Cameron looked deep into her thoughts then for a +moment to find out if there was a shadow of mortification +or dismay in her face; but though she +flushed consciously her sweet true eyes gave back +only the pleasure she was feeling, and her real enjoyment +of the day. Then instantly each of them +felt that another crisis had been passed in their +friendship, another something unseen and beautiful +had happened that made this moment most +precious—one never to be forgotten no matter what +happened in the future, something they would not +have missed for any other experience. +</p> +<p>It was Ruth who announced suddenly, late in +the afternoon, during a silence in which each one +was thinking how fast the day was going: +</p> +<p>“Did you know that we were going to stay +over Sunday?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span></p> +<p>Cameron’s face blazed with joyful light: +</p> +<p>“Wonderful!” he said softly, “do you mean +it? I’ve been trying to get courage all day to suggest +it, only I don’t know of any place this side +of Washington or Baltimore where you can be comfortable, +and I hate to think of you hunting around +a strange city late at night for accommodations. If +I could only get out to go with you——!” +</p> +<p>“It isn’t necessary,” said Ruth quickly, “we +have our accommodations all arranged for. Your +mother and I planned it all out before we came. +But are you sure we can get into camp to-morrow?” +</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m almost certain we can get you passes +by going up to officers’ headquarters and applying. +A fellow in our company told me this morning he +had permission for his mother and sister to come in +to-morrow. And we are not likely to leave before +Monday now, for this morning our lieutenant went +away and I heard him say he had a three days’ leave. +They wouldn’t have given him that if they expected +to send us before he got back, at least not unless +they recalled him—they might do that.” +</p> +<p>“Is that the lieutenant that you called a ‘mess’ +the other day?” asked Ruth with twinkling eyes. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“Yes,” said Cameron turning a keen, startled +glance at her, and wondering what she would say if +she knew it was Wainwright he meant. +</p> +<p>But she answered demurely: +</p> +<p>“So he’s away, is he? I’m glad. I was hoping +he would be.” +</p> +<p>“Why?” asked Cameron. +</p> +<p>“Oh, I thought he might be in the way,” she +smiled, and changed the subject, calling attention +to the meadow lark who was trilling out his little +ecstasy in the tall tree over their head. +</p> +<p>Cameron gave one glance at the bird and then +brought his gaze back to the sweet upturned face +beside him, his soul thrilling with the wonder of it +that she should be there with him! +</p> +<p>“But you haven’t told me where you have +arranged to stay. Is it Baltimore or Washington? +I must look up your trains. I hope you will be +able to stay as late as possible. They’re not putting +people out of camp until eight o’clock to-night.” +</p> +<p>“Lovely!” said Ruth with the eagerness of a +child. “Then we’ll stay till the very last trolley. +We’re not going to either Baltimore or Washington. +We’re staying right near the camp entrance +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +in that little town at the station where we landed, I +don’t remember what you call it. We got accommodations +this morning before we came into camp.” +</p> +<p>“But where?” asked Cameron anxiously. +“Are you sure it’s respectable? I’m afraid there +isn’t any place there that would do at all.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes there is,” said Ruth. “It’s the Salvation +Army ‘Hut,’ they called it, but it looks more +like a barracks, and there’s the dearest little woman +in charge!” +</p> +<p>“John, I’m afraid it isn’t the right thing to let +her do it!” put in his mother anxiously. “I’m +afraid her aunt wouldn’t like it at all, and I’m sure +she won’t be comfortable.” +</p> +<p>“I shall <i>love</i> it!” said Ruth happily, “and my +aunt will never know anything about it. As for +comfort, I’ll be as comfortable as you are, my dear +lady, and I’m sure you wouldn’t let comfort stand +in the way of being with your boy.” She smiled +her sweet little triumph that brought tears to the +eyes of the mother; and Cameron gave her a blinding +look of gratitude and adoration. So she carried +her way. +</p> +<p>Cameron protested no more, but quietly enquired +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +at the Hostess’ House if the place was all +right, and when he put them on the car at eight +o’clock he gave Ruth’s hand a lingering pressure, +and said in a low tone that only she could hear, +with a look that carried its meaning to her heart: +</p> +<p>“I shall never forget that you did this for my +mother—and me!” +</p> +<p>The two felt almost light-hearted in comparison +to their fellow travellers, because they had a short +reprieve before they would have to say good-bye. +But Ruth sat looking about her, at the sad-eyed +girls and women who had just parted from their +husbands and sons and sweethearts, and who were +most of them weeping, and felt anew the great burden +of the universal sorrow upon her. She wondered +how God could stand it. The old human +question that wonders how God can stand the great +agonies of life that have to come to cure the world +of its sin, and never wonders how God can stand the +sin! She felt as if she must somehow find God and +plead with Him not to do it, and again there came +that longing to her soul, if she only knew God intimately! +Cameron’s question recurred to her +thoughts, “<i>Could</i> anyone on this earth know God? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +Had anyone ever known Him? Would the Bible +say anything about it?” She resolved to read it +through and find out. +</p> +<p>The brief ride brought them suddenly into a +new and to Ruth somewhat startling environment. +</p> +<p>As they followed the grassy path from the station +to their abiding place two little boys in full +military uniform appeared out of the tall grass of +the meadows, one as a private, the other as an officer. +The small private saluted the officer with precision +and marched on, turning after a few steps to call +back, “Mother said we might sleep in the tent to-night! +The rooms are all full.” The older boy +gave a whoop of delight and bounded back toward +the building with a most unofficer-like walk, and +both disappeared inside the door. A tiny khaki +dog-tent was set up in the grass by the back door, +and in a moment more the two young soldiers +emerged from the back door with blankets and disappeared +under the brown roof with a zest that +showed it was no hardship to them to camp out for +the night. +</p> +<p>There were lights in the long pleasant room, and +people. Two soldiers with their girls were eating +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +ice cream at the little tables, and around the piano +a group of officers and their wives was gathered +singing ragtime. Ruth’s quick glance told her +they were not the kind she cared for, and—how +could people who were about to part, perhaps forever, +stand there and sing such abominable nonsense! +Yet—perhaps it was their way of being +brave to the last. But she wished they would go. +</p> +<p>The sweet-faced woman of the morning was +busy behind the counter and presently she saw them +and came forward: +</p> +<p>“I’m sorry! I hoped there would be a room, +but that woman from Boston came. I can only +give you cots out here, if you don’t mind.” +</p> +<p>Mrs. Cameron looked around in a half-frightened +manner, but Ruth smiled airily and said that +would be all right. +</p> +<p>They settled down in the corner between the +writing table and book case and began to read, for +it was obvious that they could not retire at present. +</p> +<p>The little boys came running through and the +officers corralled them and clamored for them to +sing. Without any coaxing they stood up together +and sang, and their voices were sweet as birds as +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +they piped out the words of a popular song, one +singing alto, the little one taking the high soprano. +Ruth put down her book and listened, wondering at +the lovely expressions on the two small faces. They +made her think of the baby-seraphs in Michael +Angelo’s pictures. Presently they burst into a religious +song with as much gusto as they had sung +the ragtime. They were utterly without self-consciousness, +and sang with the fervor of a preacher. +Yet they were regular boys, for presently when +they were released they went to turning hand +springs and had a rough and tumble scuffle in the +corner till their mother called them to order. +</p> +<p>In a few minutes more the noisy officers and +their wives parted, the men striding off into the +night with a last word about the possibility of unexpected +orders coming, and a promise to wink a flash +light out of the car window as the troop train went +by in case they went out that night. The wives +went into one of the little stall-rooms and compared +notes about their own feelings and the probability +of the ——Nth Division leaving before Monday. +</p> +<p>Then the head of the house appeared with a +Bible under his arm humming a hymn. He cast a +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +keen pleasant glance at the two strangers in the +corner, and gave a cheery word to his wife in answer +to her question: +</p> +<p>“Yes, we had a great meeting to-night. A hundred +and twenty men raised their hands as wanting +to decide for Christ, and two came forward to be +prayed for. It was a blessed time. I wish the boys +had been over there to sing. The meeting was in +the big Y.M.C.A. auditorium. Has Captain Hawley +gone yet?” +</p> +<p>“Not yet.” His wife’s voice was lowered. She +motioned toward one of the eight gray doors, and +her husband nodded sadly. +</p> +<p>“He goes at midnight, you know. Poor little +woman!” +</p> +<p>Just then the door opened and a young soldier +came out, followed by his wife, looking little and +pathetic with great dark hollows under her eyes, +and a forced smile on her trembling lips. +</p> +<p>The soldier came over and took the hand of the +Salvation Army woman: +</p> +<p>“Well, I’m going out to-night, Mother. I +want to thank you for all you’ve done for my little +girl”—looking toward his wife—“and I won’t forget +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span> +all the good things you’ve done for <i>me</i>, and the +sermons you’ve preached; and when I get over there +I’m going to try to live right and keep all my +promises. I want you to pray for me that I may +be true. I shall never cease to thank the Lord that +I knew you two.” +</p> +<p>The Salvationists shook hands earnestly with +him, and promised to pray for him, and then he +turned to the children: +</p> +<p>“Good-bye, Dicky, I shan’t forget the songs +you’ve sung. I’ll hear them sometimes when I +get over there in battle, and they’ll help to keep +me true.” +</p> +<p>But Dicky, not content with a hand shake +swarmed up the leg and back of his tall friend as if +he had been a tree, and whispered in a loud confidential +child-whisper: +</p> +<p>“I’m a goin’ to pray fer you, too, Cap’n Hawley. +God bless you!” +</p> +<p>The grown-up phrases on the childish lips +amused Ruth. She watched the little boy as he +lifted his beautiful serious face to the responsive +look of the stranger, and marvelled. Here was no +parrot-like repetition of word she had heard oft +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +repeated by his elders; the boy was talking a native +tongue, and speaking of things that were real to +him. There was no assumption of godliness nor +conceit, no holier-than-thou smirk about the child. +It was all sincere, as a boy would promise to speak +to his own father about a friend’s need. It touched +Ruth and tears sprang to her eyes. +</p> +<p>All the doubts she had had about the respectability +of the place had vanished long ago. There +might be all kinds of people coming and going, but +there was a holy influence here which made it a +refuge for anyone, and she felt quite safe about +sleeping in the great barn-like room so open. It was +as if they had happened on some saint’s abode and +been made welcome in their extremity. +</p> +<p>Presently, one by one the inmates of the rooms +came in and retired. Then the cots were brought out +and set up, little simple affairs of canvas and steel +rods, put together in a twinkling, and very inviting +to the two weary women after the long day. The +cheery proprietor called out, “Mrs. Brown, haven’t +you an extra blanket in your room?” and a pleasant +voice responded promptly, “Yes, do you +want it?” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></p> +<p>“Throw it over then, please. A couple of ladies +hadn’t any place to go. Anybody else got one?” +</p> +<p>A great gray blanket came flying over the top +of the partition, and down the line another voice +called: “I have one I don’t need!” and a white +blanket with pink stripes followed, both caught by +the Salvationist, and spread upon the little cots. +Then the lights were turned out one by one and +there in the shelter of the tall piano, curtained by +the darkness the two lay down. +</p> +<p>Ruth was so interested in it all and so filled with +the humor and the strangeness of her situation that +tired as she was she could not sleep for a long time. +</p> +<p>The house settled slowly to quiet. The proprietor +and his wife talked comfortably about the +duties of the next day, called some directions to +the two boys in the puppy tent, soothed their mosquito +bites with a lotion and got them another +blanket. The woman who helped in the kitchen +complained about not having enough supplies for +morning, and that contingency was arranged for, +all in a patient, earnest way and in the same tone in +which they talked about the meetings. They discussed +their own boy, evidently the brother of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +small boys, who had apparently just sailed for +France as a soldier a few days before, and whom the +wife had gone to New York to see off, and they +commended him to their Christ in little low sentences +of reassurance to each other. Ruth could not +help but hear much that was said, for the rooms +were all open to sounds, and these good people apparently +had nothing to hide. They spoke as if all +their household were one great family, equally interested +in one another, equally suffering and patient +in the necessities of this awful war. +</p> +<p>In another tiny room the Y.M.C.A. man who +had been the last to come in talked in low tones +with his wife, telling her in tender, loving tones +what to do about a number of things after he +was gone. +</p> +<p>In a room quite near there were soft sounds as +of suppressed weeping. Something made Ruth +sure it was the mother who had been spoken of +earlier in the evening as having come all the way +from Texas and arrived too late to bid her boy +good-bye. +</p> +<p>Now and again the sound of a troop train stirred +her heart to untold depths. There is something so +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +weird and sorrowful about its going, as if the very +engine sympathized, screaming its sorrow through +the night. Ruth felt she never would forget that +sound. Out there in the dark Cameron might be +even then slipping past them out into the great +future. She wished she could dare ask that sweet +faced woman, or that dear little boy to pray for +<i>him</i>. Maybe she would next day. +</p> +<p>The two officer’s wives seemed to sit up in bed +and watch the train. They had discovered a flash +light, and were counting the signals, and quite excited. +Ruth’s heart ached for them. It was a +peculiarity of this trip that she found her heart +going out to others so much more than it had ever +gone before. She was not thinking of her own pain, +although she knew it was there, but of the pain of +the world. +</p> +<p>Her body lying on the strange hard cot ached +with weariness in unaccustomed places, yet she +stretched and nestled upon the tan canvas with +satisfaction. She was sharing to a certain extent +the hardships of the soldiers—the hardship of one +soldier whose privations hurt her deeply. It was +good to have to suffer—with him. Where was God? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +Did He care? Was He in this queer little hostel? +Might she ask Him now to set a guard over Cameron +and let him find the help he needed wherewith +to go to meet Death, if Death he must meet? +</p> +<p>She laid her hands together as a little child +might do and with wide-open eyes staring into the +dark of the high ceiling she whispered from her +heart: “Oh God, help—<i>us</i>—to find <i>you</i>!” and unconsciously +she, too, set her soul on the search +that night. +</p> +<p>As she closed her eyes a great peace and sense +of safety came over her. +</p> +<p>Outside on the road a company of late soldiers, +coming home from leave noised by. Some of them +were drunk, and wrangling or singing, and a sense +of their pitiful need of God came over her as she +sank into a deep sleep. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +<h2>XV</h2> +</div> + +<p>She was awakened by the rattling of the pots +and pans in the tiny kitchen. She sat up startled +and looked about her. It was very early. The +first sunlight was streaming redly through the +window screens, and the freshness of the morning +was everywhere, for all the windows were wide +open. The stillness of the country, broken only by +the joyous chorus of the birds, struck her as a wonderful +thing. She lay down again and closed her +eyes to listen. Music with the scent of clover! The +cheery little home noises in the kitchen seemed a +pleasant background for the peace of the Sabbath +morning. It was so new and strange. Then came +the thought of camp and the anticipation of the +day, with the sharp pang at the memory that perhaps +even now Cameron was gone. Orders were +so uncertain. In the army a man must be ready to +move at a moment’s notice. What if while she +slept he had passed by on one of those terrible +troop trains! +</p> +<p>She sat up again and began to put her hair into +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +order and make herself presentable. He had +promised that if such a thing as a sudden move +should occur he would throw out an old envelope +with his name written on it as they passed by the +hut, and she meant to go out to that railroad track +and make a thorough search before the general +public were up. +</p> +<p>Mrs. Cameron was still sleeping soundly, one +work-worn hand partly shading her face. Ruth +knew instinctively that she must have been weeping +in the night. In the early morning dawn she +drooped on the hard little cot in a crumpled heap, +and the girl’s heart ached for her sorrow. +</p> +<p>Ruth stole into the kitchen to ask for water to +wash her face: +</p> +<p>“I’m sorry,” said the pleasant-faced woman +who was making coffee and frying bacon, “but the +wash basins are all gone; we’ve had so many folks +come in. But you can have this pail. I just got +this water for myself and I’ll let you have it and +I’ll get some more. You see, the water pipes aren’t +put in the building yet and we have to go down the +road quite a piece to get any. This is all there was +left last night.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span></p> +<p>She handed Ruth a two-gallon galvanized tin +bucket containing a couple of inches of water, obviously +clean, and added a brief towel to the toilet +arrangements. +</p> +<p>Ruth beat a hasty retreat back to the shelter of +the piano with her collection, fearing lest mirth +would get the better of her. She could not help +thinking how her aunt would look if she could see +her washing her face in this pittance of water in the +bottom of the great big bucket. +</p> +<p>But Ruth Macdonald was adaptable in spite of +her upbringing. She managed to make a most +pleasing toilet in spite of the paucity of water, and +then went back to the kitchen with the bucket. +</p> +<p>“If you will show me where you get the water +I’ll go for some more,” she offered, anxious for an +excuse to get out and explore the track. +</p> +<p>The woman in the kitchen was not abashed at +the offer. She accepted the suggestion as a matter +of course, taking for granted the same helpful spirit +that seemed to pervade all the people around the +place. It did not seem to strike her as anything +strange that this young woman should be willing +to go for water. She was not giving attention to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +details like clothes and handbags, and neither wealth +nor social station belonged to her scheme of life. So +she smilingly gave the directions to the pump and +went on breaking nice brown eggs into a big yellow +bowl. Ruth wished she could stay and watch, it +looked so interesting. +</p> +<p>She took the pail and slipped out the back door, +but before she went in search of water she hurried +down to the railroad track and scanned it for several +rods either way, carefully examining each bit +of paper, her breath held in suspense as she turned +over an envelope or scrap of paper, lest it might +bear his name. At last with a glad look backward +to be sure she had missed nothing, she hurried up +the bank and took her way down the grassy path +toward the pump, satisfied that Cameron had not +yet left the camp. +</p> +<p>It was a lovely summer morning, and the quietness +of the country struck her as never before. The +wild roses shimmered along the roadside in the early +sun, and bees and butterflies were busy about their +own affairs. It seemed such a lovely world if it +only had not been for <i>war</i>. How could God bear +it! She lifted her eyes to the deep blue of the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +sky, where little clouds floated lazily, like lovely +aviators out for pleasure. Was God up there? If +she might only find Him. What did it all mean, +anyway? Did He really care for individuals? +</p> +<p>It was all such a new experience, the village +pump, and the few early stragglers watching her +curiously from the station platform. A couple of +grave soldiers hurried by, and the pang of what +was to come shot through her heart. The thought +of the day was full of mingled joy and sorrow. +</p> +<p>They ate a simple little breakfast, good coffee, +toast and fried eggs. Ruth wondered why it tasted +so good amid such primitive surroundings; yet +everything was so clean and tidy, though coarse and +plain. When they went to pay their bill the proprietor +said their beds would be only twenty-five +cents apiece because they had had no pillow. If +they had had a pillow he would have had to charge +them fifty cents. The food was fabulously cheap. +They looked around and wondered how it could be +done. It was obvious that no tips would be received, +and that money was no consideration. In +fact, the man told them his orders were merely to +pay expenses. He gave them a parting word of +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +good cheer, and promised to try and make them +more comfortable if they wanted to return that +night, and so they started out for camp. Ruth was +silent and thoughtful. She was wishing she had +had the boldness to ask this quaint Christian man +some of the questions that troubled her. He looked +as if he knew God, and she felt as if he might be able +to make some things plain to her. But her life had +been so hedged about by conventionalities that it +seemed an impossible thing to her to open her lips on +the subject to any living being—unless it might be +to John Cameron. It was queer how they two had +grown together in the last few months. Why could +they not have known one another before? +</p> +<p>Then there came a vision of what her aunt might +have thought, and possible objections that might +have come up if they had been intimate friends +earlier. In fact, that, too, seemed practically to +have been an impossibility. How had the war torn +away the veil from foolish laws of social rank and +station! Never again could she submit to much of +the system that had been the foundation of her life +so far. Somehow she must find a way to tear her +spirit free from things that were not real. The +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +thought of the social activities that would face her +at home under the guise of patriotism turned her +soul sick with loathing. When she went back home +after he was gone she would find a way to do something +real in the world that would make for righteousness +and peace somehow. Knitting and +dancing with lonesome soldiers did not satisfy her. +</p> +<p>That was a wonderful day and they made the +most of every hour, realizing that it would probably +be the last day they had together for many a long +month or year. +</p> +<p>In the morning they stepped into the great auditorium +and attended a Y.M.C.A. service for an +hour, but their hearts were so full, and they all felt +so keenly that this day was to be the real farewell, +and they could not spare a moment of it, that presently +they slipped away to the quiet of the woods +once more, for it was hard to listen to the music and +keep the tears back. Mrs. Cameron especially +found it impossible to keep her composure. +</p> +<p>Sunday afternoon she went into the Hostess’ +House to lie down in the rest room for a few +minutes, and sent the two young people off for a +walk by themselves. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span></p> +<p>Cameron took Ruth to the log in the woods and +showed her his little Testament and the covenant he +had signed. Then they opened their hearts together +about the eternal things of life; shyly, at first, and +then with the assurance that sympathy brings. +Cameron told her that he was trying to find God, +and Ruth told him about their experiences the night +before. She also shyly promised that she would +pray for him, although she had seldom until lately +done very much real praying for herself. +</p> +<p>It was a beautiful hour wherein they travelled +miles in their friendship; an hour in which their +souls came close while they sat on the log under the +trees with long silences in the intervals of their talk. +</p> +<p>It was whispered at the barracks that evening at +five when Cameron went back for “Retreat” that +this was the last night. They would move in the +morning surely, perhaps before. He hurried back +to the Hostess’ House where he had left his guests +to order the supper for all, feeling that he must +make the most of every minute. +</p> +<p>Passing the officers’ headquarters he heard the +raucous laugh of Wainwright, and caught a glimpse +of his fat head and neck through a window. His +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +heart sank! Wainwright was back! Then he had +been sent for, and they must be going that night! +</p> +<p>He fled to the Hostess’ House and was silent +and distraught as he ate his supper. Suppose Wainwright +should come in while they were there and +see Ruth and spoil those last few minutes together? +The thought was unbearable. +</p> +<p>Nobody wanted much supper and they wandered +outside in the soft evening air. There was a +hushed sorrow over everything. Even the roughest +soldiers were not ashamed of tears. Little faded +mothers clung to big burly sons, and their sons +smoothed their gray hair awkwardly and were not +ashamed. A pair of lovers sat at the foot of a tree +hand in hand and no one looked at them, except in +sympathy. There were partings everywhere. A +few wives with little children in their arms were +writing down hurried directions and receiving a bit +of money; but most desolate of all was the row of +lads lined up near the station whose friends were +gone, or had not come at all, and who had to stand +and endure the woe of others. +</p> +<p>“Couldn’t we <i>walk</i> out of camp?” asked Ruth +suddenly. “Must we go on that awful trolley? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +Last night everybody was weeping. I wanted to +weep, too. It is only a few steps from the end of +camp to our quarters. Or is it too far for you, Mrs. +Cameron?” +</p> +<p>“Nothing is too far to-night so I may be with +my boy one hour longer.” +</p> +<p>“Then we must start at once,” said Cameron, +“there is barely time to reach the outskirts before +the hour when all visitors must be out of camp. It +is over three miles, mother.” +</p> +<p>“I can walk it if Ruth can,” said the mother +smiling bravely. +</p> +<p>He drew an arm of each within his own and +started off, glad to be out of Wainwright’s neighborhood, +gladder still to have a little longer with +those he loved. +</p> +<p>Out through the deserted streets they passed, +where empty barracks were being prepared for the +next draft men; past the Tank Headquarters and +the colored barracks, the storehouses and more barracks +just emptied that afternoon into troop trains; +out beyond the great laundry and on up the cinder +road to the top of the hill and the end of the way. +</p> +<p>There at last, in sight of the Military Police, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +pacing back and forth at the entrance to camp, with +the twinkling lights of the village beyond, and the +long wooded road winding back to camp, they +paused to say good-bye. The cinder path and the +woods at its edge made a blot of greenish black +against a brilliant stormy sky. The sun was setting +like a ball of fire behind the trees, and some strange +freak of its rays formed a golden cross resting back +against the clouds, its base buried among the woods, +its cross bar rising brilliant against the black of a +thunder cloud. +</p> +<p>“Look!” said Ruth, “it is an omen!” They +looked and a great wonder and awe came upon +them. The Cross! +</p> +<p>Cameron looked back and then down at her +and smiled. +</p> +<p>“It will lead you safely home,” she said softly +and laid her hand in his. He held her fingers close +for an instant and his eyes dared some of the things +his lips would never have spoken now even if they +two had been alone. +</p> +<p>The Military Police stepped up: +</p> +<p>“You don’t have to stay out here to say good-bye. +You can come into the station right here and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +sit down. Or if your friends are going to the village +you may go with them, Comrade. I can trust you +to come back right away.” +</p> +<p>“I thank you!” Cameron said. “That is the +kindest thing that has happened to me at this camp. +I wish I could avail myself of it, but I have barely +time to get back to the barracks within the hour +given me. Perhaps—” and he glanced anxiously +across the road toward the village. “Could you just +keep an eye out that my ladies reach the Salvation +Army Hut all right?” +</p> +<p>“Sure!” said the big soldier heartily, “I’ll go +myself. I’m just going off duty and I’ll see them +safe to the door.” +</p> +<p>He stepped a little away and gave an order to +his men, and so they said good-bye and watched +Cameron go down the road into the sunset with the +golden cross blazing above him as he walked lower +and lower down the hill into the shadow of the dark +woods and the thunder cloud. But brightly the +cross shone above him as long as they could see, and +just before he stepped into the darkness where the +road turned he paused, waved his hat, and so passed +on out of their sight. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +<h2>XVI</h2> +</div> + +<p>The first night on the water was one of unspeakable +horror to Cameron. They had scarcely +begun to feel the roll of the waves before Captain +Wurtz manifested his true nature. At six o’clock +and broad daylight, he ordered the men below, had +them locked in, and all the port holes closed! +</p> +<p>The place was packed, the heat was unbearable, +the motion increasing all the time, and the air soon +became intolerable. In vain the men protested, and +begged for air. Their requests were all denied. +The captain trusted no man. He treated them as +if they were hounds. Wainwright stood by the captain’s +side, smoking the inevitable cigarette, his eyes +narrowly watching Cameron, when the order was +given; but no onlooker could have told from Cameron’s +well trained face whether he had heard or +not. Well he knew where those orders had originated, +and instantly he saw a series of like torments. +Wainwright had things in his own hands +for this voyage. Wurtz was his devoted slave. For +Wainwright had money, and used it freely with +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +his captain, and Wainwright well knew how to +think up tortures. It was really the only thing in +which he was clever. And here again was an instance +of practice making perfect, for Wainwright +had done little else since his kindergarten days than +to think up trials for those who would not bow to +his peevish will. He seemed to be gifted in finding +out exactly what would be the finest kind of torture +for any given soul who happened to be his victim. +He had the mind of Nero and the spirit of a mean +little beast. The wonder, the great miracle was, +that he had not in some way discovered that Ruth +had been visiting the camp, and taken his revenge +before she left. This was the first thought that came +to Cameron when he found himself shut into the +murky atmosphere. The next thought was that +perhaps he had discovered it and this was the result. +He felt himself the Jonah for the company, and as +the dreadful hours went by would fain have cast +himself into the sea if there had been a possible +way of escape. +</p> +<p>It was not an American transport on which they +were sailing, and the captain was not responsible +for the food, but he might have refused to allow +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +such meals to be served to his men if he had cared. +He did not care, that was the whole trouble. He +ate and drank, principally drank, and did whatever +Wainwright suggested. When a protest came up +to him he turned it down with a laugh, and said: +“Oh, that’s good enough for a buck private,” and +went on with his dirty jokes. +</p> +<p>The supper that first night was abominable, +some unpleasant kind of meat cooked with cabbage, +and though they tried to eat it, many of them could +not keep it down. The ship rolled and the men +grew sick. The atmosphere became fetid. Each +moment seemed more impossible than the last. +There was no room to move, neither could one get +out and away. After supper the men lay down in +the only place there was to lie, two men on the tables, +two men on the benches each side, two men on the +floor between, and so on all over the cabin, packed +like eggs in a box. +</p> +<p>They sent a message to their captain begging +for air, but he only laughed, and sent word back +they would have air enough before they got through +with this war. +</p> +<p>The night wore on and Cameron lay on his scant +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span> +piece of floor—he had given his bench to a sicker +man than himself—and tried to sleep. But sleep +did not visit his eyelids. He was thinking, thinking. +“I’m going to find God! I’m going to search for +Him with all my heart, and somehow I’m going to +find Him before I’m done. I may never come +home, but I’ll find God, anyhow! It’s the only +thing that makes life bearable!” +</p> +<p>Then would come a wave of hate for his enemy +and wipe out all other thoughts, and he would +wrestle in his heart with the desire to kill Wainwright—yes, +and the captain, too. As some poor +wretch near him would writhe and groan in agony +his rage would boil up anew, his fists would clench, +and he would half rise to go to the door and overpower +that guard! If only he could get up to where +the officers were enjoying themselves! Oh, to bring +them down here and bind them in this loathsome +atmosphere, feed them with this food, stifle them in +the dark with closed port holes! His brain was +fertile with thoughts of revenge. Then suddenly +across his memory would flash the words: “If with +all your heart ye seek Him,” and he would reach +out in longing: Oh, if he could find God, surely God +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +would stop a thing like this! Did God have no +power in His own earth? +</p> +<p>Slowly, painfully, the days dragged by, each +worse than the last. In the mornings the men must +go on deck whether they were sick or not, and must +stay there all day, no matter what the weather. If +they were wet they must dry out by the heat of their +bodies. There was no possibility of getting at their +kit bags, it was so crowded. No man was allowed +to open one. All they had was the little they carried +in their packs. How they lived through it was a +wonder, but live they did. Perhaps the worst torture +of all was the great round cork life preserver in +the form of a cushioned ring which they were obliged +to wear night and day. A man could never lie down +comfortably with it on, and if from sheer exhaustion +he fell asleep he awoke with his back aching tortures. +The meat and cabbage was varied twice by steamed +fish served in its scales, tails, fins, heads, and entrails +complete. All that they got which was really +eatable was a small bun served in the morning, and +boiled potatoes occasionally. +</p> +<p>Nevertheless, these hardships would have been +as nothing to Cameron if they had not represented +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +to him hate, pure and simple. He felt, and perhaps +justly, that if Wainwright had not wished to +make him suffer, these things would surely have +been mitigated. +</p> +<p>The day came at last when they stood on the +deck and watched the strange foreign shore draw +nearer. Cameron, stern and silent, stood apart from +the rest. For the moment his anger toward Wainwright +was forgotten, though he could hear the +swaggering tones from the deck above, and the +noisome laughter of Wurtz in response. Cameron +was looking into the face of the future, wondering +what it would mean for him. Out there was +the strange country. What did it hold for him? +Was God there? How he wanted God to go with +him and help him face the future! +</p> +<p>There was much delay in landing, and getting +ready to move. The men were weak from sickness +and long fasting. They tottered as they stood, but +they had to stand—unless they dropped. They +turned wan faces toward one another and tried to +smile. Their fine American pep was gone, hopelessly, +yet they grinned feebly now and then and +got off a weak little joke or two. For the most part +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +they glared when the officers came by—especially +two—those two. The wrath toward them had been +brewing long and deep as each man lay weltering +through those unbearable nights. Hardship they +could bear, and pain, and sickness—but tyranny +<i>never!</i> +</p> +<p>Someone had written a letter. It was not the +first. There had been others on ship board protesting +against their treatment. But this letter was a +warning to that captain and lieutenant. If they +ever led these men into battle <i>they</i> would be killed +before the battle began. It was signed by the company. +It had been a unanimous vote. Now as +they stood staring leadenly at the strange sights +about them, listening to the new jargon of the shore, +noting the quaint headdresses and wooden sabots +of the people with a fine scorn of indifference, they +thought of that letter in hard phrases of rage. And +bitterest of all were the thoughts of John Cameron +as he stood in his place awaiting orders. +</p> +<p>They were hungry, these men, and unfit, when +at last the order came to march, and they had to +hike it straight up a hill with a great pack on their +backs. It was not that they minded the packs or the +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +hike or the hunger. It was the injustice of their +treatment that weighed upon them like a burden +that human nature could not bear. They had come +to lift such a burden from the backs of another +nation, and they had been treated like dogs all the +way over! Like the low rumbling of oncoming +thunder was the blackness of their countenances as +they marched up, up, and up into Brest. The sun +grew hot, and their knees wobbled under them from +sheer weakness; strong men when they started, who +were fine and fit, now faint like babies, yet with +spirits unbroken, and great vengeance in their +hearts. They would fight, oh they would fight, yes, +but they would see that captain out of the way first! +Here and there by the way some fell—the wonder +is they all did not—and had to be picked up by the +ambulances; and at last they had to be ordered to +stop and rest! They! Who had come over here to +flaunt their young strength in the face of the enemy! +<i>They</i> to fall <i>before the fight was begun</i>. This, too, +they laid up against their tyrant. +</p> +<p>But there was welcome for them, nevertheless. +Flowers and wreaths and bands of music met them +as they went through the town, and women and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +little children flung them kisses and threw blossoms +in their way. This revived somewhat the drooping +spirits with which they had gone forth, and when +they reached camp and got a decent meal they felt +better, and more reasonable. Still the bitterness +was there, against those two who had used their +power unworthily. That night, lying on a hard +little cot in camp Cameron tried to pray, his heart +full of longing for God, yet found the heavens as +brass, and could not find words to cry out, except in +bitterness. Somehow he did not feel he was getting +on at all in his search, and from sheer weariness and +discouragement he fell asleep at last. +</p> +<p>Three days and nights of rest they had and +then were packed into tiny freight cars with a space +so small that they had to take turns sitting down. +Men had to sleep sitting or standing, or wherever +they could find space to lie down. So they started +across France, three days and awful nights they +went, weary and sore and bitter still. But they +had air and they were better fed. Now and then +they could stand up and look out through a crack. +Once in a while a fellow could get space to stretch +out for a few minutes. Cameron awoke once and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +found feet all over him, feet even in his face. Yet +these things were what he had expected. He did +not whine. He was toughened for such experiences, +so were the men about him. The hardness merely +brought out their courage. They were getting their +spirits back now as they neared the real scene of +action. The old excitement and call to action were +creeping back into their blood. Now and then a +song would pipe out, or a much abused banjo or +mandolin would twang and bring forth their voices. +It was only when an officer walked by or mention +would be made of the captain or lieutenant that +their looks grew black again and they fell silent. +Injustice and tyranny, the things they had come +out to fight, that they would not forgive nor forget. +Their spirits were reviving but their hate was there. +</p> +<p>At last they detrained and marched into a +little town. +</p> +<p>This was France! +</p> +<p>Cameron looked about him in dismay. A +scramble of houses and barns, sort of two-in-one +affairs. Where was the beauty of France about +which he had read so often? Mud was everywhere. +The streets were deep with it, the ground was sodden, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +rain-soaked. It was raining even then. Sunny +France! +</p> +<p>It was in a barnyard deep in manure where +Cameron’s tent was set up. Little brown tents set +close together, their flies dovetailing so that more +could be put in a given space. +</p> +<p>Dog weary he strode over the stakes that held +them, and looked upon the place where he was to +sleep. Its floor was almost a foot deep in water! +Rank, ill smelling water! Pah! Was this intention +that he should have been billeted here? Some of +the men had dry places. Of course, it might have +just happened, but—well, what was the use. Here +he must sleep for he could not stand up any longer +or he would fall over. So he heaped up a pillow of +the muck, spread his blanket out and lay down. At +least his head would be high enough out of the water +so that he would not drown in his sleep, and with +his feet in water, and the cold ooze creeping slowly +through his heavy garments, he dropped immediately +into oblivion. There were no prayers that +night. His heart was full of hate. The barnyard +was in front of an old stone farm house, and in that +farm house were billeted the captain and his favorite +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +first lieutenant. Cameron could hear his raucous +laugh and the clinking of the wine glasses, almost +the gurgle of the wine. The thought of Wainwright +was his last conscious one before he slept. +Was it of intention that he should have been put +here close by, where Wainwright could watch his +every move? +</p> +<p>As the days went by and real training began, +with French officers working them hard until they +were ready to drop at night, gradually Cameron +grew stolid. It seemed sometimes as if he had +always been here, splashing along in the mud, +soaked with rain, sleeping in muck at night, never +quite dry, never free from cold and discomfort, +never quite clean, always training, the boom of the +battle afar, but never getting there. Where was +the front? Why didn’t they get there and fight and +get done with it all? +</p> +<p>The rain poured down, day after day. Ammunition +trains rolled by. More men marched in, more +marched on, still they trained. It seemed eons since +he had bade Ruth and his mother good-bye that +night at the camp. No mail had come. Oh, if he +could just hear a word from home! If he only had +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +her picture! They had taken some together at +camp and she had promised to have them developed +and send them, but they would probably never +reach him. And it were better if they did not. +Wainwright was censor. If he recognized the +writing nothing would ever reach him he was sure. +Still, Wainwright had nothing to do with the incoming +mail, only the outgoing. Well, Wainwright +should never censor his letters. He would find a +way to get letters out that Wainwright had never +censored, or he would never send any. +</p> +<p>But the days dragged by in rain and mud and +discouragement, and no letters came. Once or +twice he attempted to write a respectable letter to +his mother, but he felt so hampered with the thought +of Wainwright having to see it that he kept it +securely in his pocket, and contented himself with +gay-pictured postcards which he had purchased in +Brest, on which he inscribed a few non-committal +sentences, always reminding them of the censor, +and his inability to say what he would, and always +ending, “Remember me to my friend, and tell her +I have forgotten nothing but cannot write at present +for reasons which I cannot explain.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></p> +<p>At night he lay on his watery couch and composed +long letters to Ruth which he dared not put +on paper lest somehow they should come into the +hands of Wainwright. He took great satisfaction +in the fact that he had succeeded in slipping through +a post card addressed to herself from Brest, through +the kindness and understanding of a small boy who +agreed to mail it in exchange for a package of +chewing gum. Here at the camp there was no such +opportunity, but he would wait and watch for another +chance. Meantime the long separation of +miles, and the creeping days, gave him a feeling of +desolation such as he had never experienced before. +He began to grow introspective. He fancied that +perhaps he had overestimated Ruth’s friendship for +him. The dear memories he had cherished during +the voyage were brought out in the nightwatches +and ruthlessly reviewed, until his own shy hope that +the light in her eyes had been for him began to fade, +and in its place there grew a conviction that happiness +of earth was never for him. For, he reasoned, +if she cared, why did she not write? At least a +post card? Other fellows were getting letters now +and then. Day after day he waited when the mail +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +was distributed, but nothing ever came. His mother +seemed to have forgotten, too. Surely, all these +weeks, some word would have come through. It +was not in reason that his mail should be delayed +beyond others. Could it be that there was false +play somehow? Was Wainwright at the bottom of +this? Or had something happened to his mother, +and had Ruth forgotten? +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +<h2>XVII</h2> +</div> + +<p>The weeks rolled by. The drilling went on. +At last word came that the company was to move up +farther toward the front. They prepared for a long +hike almost eagerly, not knowing yet what was before +them. Anything was better than this intolerable +waiting. +</p> +<p>Solemnly under a leaden sky they gathered; +sullenly went through their inspection; stolidly, +dully, they marched away through the rain and mud +and desolation. The nights were cold and their +clothes seemed thin and inadequate. They had not +been paid since they came over, so there was no +chance to buy any little comfort, even if it had been +for sale. A longing for sweets and home puddings +and pies haunted their waking hours as they trudged +wearily hour after hour, kilometer after kilometer, +coming ever nearer, nearer. +</p> +<p>For two days they hiked, and then entrained for +a long uncomfortable night, and all the time Cameron’s +soul was crying out within him for the living +God. In these days he read much in the little Testament +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +whenever there was a rest by the wayside, and +he could draw apart from the others. Ever his +soul grew hungrier as he neared the front, and knew +his time now was short. There were days when he +had the feeling that he must stop tramping and do +something about this great matter that hung over +him, and then Wainwright would pass by and cast +a sharp direction at him with a sneer in the curl of +his moustache, and all the fury of his being would +rise up, until he would clench his fists in helpless +wrath, as Wainwright swaggered on. To think +how easily he could drag him in the dust if it only +came to a fair fight between them! But Wainwright +had all the advantage now, with such a captain +on his side! +</p> +<p>That night ride was a terrible experience. Cameron, +with his thoughts surging and pounding +through his brain, was in no condition to come out +of hardships fresh and fit. He was overcome with +weariness when he climbed into the box car with +thirty-nine other fellows just as weary, just as discouraged, +just as homesick. +</p> +<p>There was only room for about twenty to travel +comfortably in that car, but they cheerfully huddled +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +together and took their turns sitting down, and +somewhere along in the night it came Cameron’s +turn to slide down on the floor and stretch out for a +while; or perhaps his utter weariness made him drop +there involuntarily, because he could no longer keep +awake. For a few minutes the delicious ache of +lying flat enveloped him and carried him away into +unconsciousness with a lulling ecstasy. Then suddenly +Wainwright seemed to loom over him and demand +that he rise and let him lie down in his place. +It seemed to Cameron that the lethargy that had +stolen over him as he fell asleep was like heavy bags +of sand tied to his hands and feet. He could not +rise if he would. He thought he tried to tell Wainwright +that he was unfair. He was an officer and +had better accommodations. What need had he to +come back here and steal a weary private’s sleep. +But his lips refused to open and his throat gave out +no sound. Wainwright seemed gradually stooping +nearer, nearer, with a large soft hand about his +throat, and his little pig eyes gleaming like two +points of green light, his selfish mouth all pursed up +as it used to be when the fellows stole his all-day +sucker, and held it tantalizingly above his reach. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +One of his large cushiony knees was upon Cameron’s +chest now, and the breath was going from him. He +gasped, and tried to shout to the other fellows that +this was the time to do away with this tyrant, this +captain’s pet, but still only a croak would come +from his lips. With one mighty effort he wrenched +his hands and feet into action, and lunged up at the +mighty bully above him, struggling, clutching +wildly for his throat, with but one thought in his +dreaming brain, to kill—to kill! Sound came to his +throat at last, action to his sleeping body, and +struggling himself loose from the two comrades who +had fallen asleep upon him and almost succeeded in +smothering him, he gave a hoarse yell and got to +his feet. +</p> +<p>They cursed and laughed at him, and snuggled +down good naturedly to their broken slumbers +again, but Cameron stood in his corner, glaring out +the tiny crack into the dark starless night that was +whirling by, startled into thoughtfulness. The +dream had been so vivid that he could not easily +get rid of it. His heart was boiling hot with rage +at his old enemy, yet something stronger was there, +too, a great horror at himself. He had been about +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +to kill a fellow creature! To what pass had he come! +</p> +<p>And somewhere out in that black wet night, a +sweet white face gleamed, with brown hair blown +about it, and the mist of the storm in its locks. It +was as if her spirit had followed him and been present +in that dream to shame him. Supposing the +dream had been true, and he had actually killed +Wainwright! For he knew by the wild beating of +his heart, by the hotness of his wrath as he came +awake, that nothing would have stayed his hand if +he had been placed in such a situation. +</p> +<p>It was <i>like</i> a dream to hover over a poor worn +tempest-tossed soul in that way and make itself +verity; demand that he should live it out again and +again and face the future that would have followed +such a set of circumstances. He had to see Ruth’s +sad, stern face, the sorrowful eyes full of tears, the +reproach, the disappointment, the alien lifting of +her chin. He knew her so well; could so easily conjecture +what her whole attitude would be, he +thought. And then he must needs go on to think +out once more just what relation there might be +between his enemy and the girl he loved—think it +out more carefully than he had ever let himself do +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +before. All he knew about the two, how their home +grounds adjoined, how their social set and standing +and wealth was the same, how they had often been +seen together; how Wainwright had boasted! +</p> +<p>All night he stood and thought it out, glowering +between the cracks of the car at the passing whirl, +differentiating through the blackness now and then +a group of trees or buildings or a quick flash of +furtive light, but mainly darkness and monotony. +It was as if he were tied to the tail of a comet that +dashed hellwards for a billion years, so long the +night extended till the dull gray dawn. There was +no God anywhere in that dark night. He had forgotten +about Him entirely. He was perhaps +strongly conscious of the devil at his right hand. +</p> +<p>They detrained and hiked across a bit of wet +country that was all alike—all mud, in the dull light +that grew only to accentuate the ugliness and dreariness +of everything. Sunny France! And this was +sunny France! +</p> +<p>At last they halted along a muddy roadside and +lined up for what seemed an interminable age, waiting +for something, no one knew what, nor cared. +They were beyond caring, most of them, poor boys! +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +If their mothers had appeared with a bowl of bread +and milk and called them to bed they would have +wept in her arms with joy. They stood apathetically +and waited, knowing that sometime after another +interminable age had passed, the red tape +necessary to move a large body like themselves +would be unwound, and everything go on again to +another dreary halt somewhere. Would it ever be +over? The long, long trail? +</p> +<p>Cameron stood with the rest in a daze of discouragement, +not taking the trouble to think any +more. His head was hot and his chest felt heavy, +reminding him of Wainwright’s fat knee; and he +had an ugly cough. +</p> +<p>Suddenly someone—a comrade—touched him on +the shoulder. +</p> +<p>“Come on in here, Cammie, you’re all in. This +is the Salvation Army Hut!” +</p> +<p>Cameron turned. Salvation Army! It sounded +like the bells of heaven. Ah! It was something he +could think back to, that little Salvation Army Hut +at camp! It brought the tears into his throat in a +great lump. He lurched after his friend, and +dropped into the chair where he was pushed, sliding +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +his arms out on the table before him and dropping +his head quickly to hide his emotion. He +couldn’t think what was the matter with him. He +seemed to be all giving way. +</p> +<p>“He’s all in!” he heard the voice of his friend, +“I thought maybe you could do something for him. +He’s a good old sport!” +</p> +<p>Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder, lightly, +like his mother’s hand. It thrilled him and he lifted +his bleared eyes and looked into the face of a kindly +gray-haired woman. +</p> +<p>She was not a handsome woman, though none of +the boys would ever let her be called homely, for +they claimed her smile was so glorious that it gave +her precedence in beauty to the greatest belle on +earth. There was a real mother lovelight in her +eyes now when she looked at Cameron, and she +held a cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand, real +coffee with sugar and cream and a rich aroma that +gave life to his sinking soul. +</p> +<p>“Here, son, drink this!” she said, holding the +cup to his lips. +</p> +<p>He opened his lips eagerly and then remembered +and drew back: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></p> +<p>“No,” he said, drawing away, “I forgot, I +haven’t any money. We’re all dead broke!” He +tried to pull himself together and look like a man. +</p> +<p>But the coffee cup came close to his lips again +and the rough motherly hand stole about his shoulders +to support him: +</p> +<p>“That’s all right!” she said in a low, matter-of-fact +tone. “You don’t need money here, son, you’ve +got home, and I’m your mother to-night. Just +drink this and then come in there behind those +boxes and lie down on my bed and get a wink of +sleep. You’ll be yourself again in a little while. +That’s it, son! You’ve hiked a long way. Now +forget it and take comfort.” +</p> +<p>So she soothed him till he surely must be dreaming +again, and wondered which was real, or if perhaps +he had a fever and hallucinations. He reached +a furtive hand and felt of the pine table, and the +chair on which he sat to make sure that he was +awake, and then he looked into her kind gray +eyes and smiled. +</p> +<p>She led him into the little improvised room behind +the counter and tucked him up on her cot with +a big warm blanket. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></p> +<p>“That’s all right now, son,” she whispered, +“don’t you stir till you feel like it. I’ll look after +you and your friend will let you know if there is +any call for you. Just you rest.” +</p> +<p>He thanked her with his eyes, too weary to speak +a word, and so he dropped into a blessed sleep. +</p> +<p>When he awakened slowly to consciousness +again there was a smell in the air of more coffee, +delicious coffee. He wondered if it was the same +cup, and this only another brief phase of his own +peculiar state. Perhaps he had not been asleep at +all, but had only closed his eyes and opened them +again. But no, it was night, and there were candles +lit beyond the barricade of boxes. He could see +their flicker through the cracks, and shadows were +falling here and there grotesquely on the bit of +canvas that formed another wall. There was some +other odor on the air, too. He sniffed delightedly +like a little child, something sweet and alluring, +reminding one of the days when mother took the +gingerbread and pies out of the oven. No—doughnuts, +that was it! Doughnuts! Not doughnuts +just behind the trenches! How could that be? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span></p> +<p>He stirred and raised up on one elbow to look +about him. +</p> +<p>There were two other cots in the room, arranged +neatly with folded blankets. A box in between held +a few simple toilet articles, a tin basin and a bucket +of water. He eyed them greedily. When had he +had a good wash. What luxury! +</p> +<p>He dropped back on the cot and all at once became +aware that there were strange sounds in the +air above the building in which he lay, strange and +deep, yet regular and with a certain booming monotony +as if they had been going on a long time, +and he had been too preoccupied to take notice of +them. A queer frenzy seized his heart. This, then, +was the sound of battle in the distance! He was +here at the front at last! And that was the sound +of enemy shells! How strange it seemed! How it +gripped the soul with the audacity of it all! How +terrible, and yet how exciting to be here at last! And +yet he had an unready feeling. Something was still +undone to prepare him for this ordeal. It was his +subconscious self that was crying out for God. His +material self had sensed the doughnuts that were +frying so near to him, and he looked up eagerly to +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +welcome whoever was coming tiptoing in to see if +he was awake, with a nice hot plate of them for +him to eat! +</p> +<p>He swung to a sitting posture, and received +them and the cup of hot chocolate that accompanied +them with eagerness, like a little child whose mother +had promised them if he would be good. Strange +how easy and natural it was to fall into the ways of +this gracious household. Would one call it that? +It seemed so like a home! +</p> +<p>While he was eating, his buddy slipped in +smiling excitedly: +</p> +<p>“Great news, Cammie! We’ve got a new captain! +And, oh boy! He’s a peach! He sat on our +louie first off! You oughtta have seen poor old +Wainwright’s face when he shut him up at the headquarters. +Boy, you’d a croaked! It was rich!” +</p> +<p>Cameron finished the last precious bite of his +third hot doughnut with a gulp of joy: +</p> +<p>“What’s become of Wurtz?” he asked +anxiously. +</p> +<p>“Canned, I guess,” hazarded the private. “I +did hear they took him to a sanitarium, nervous +breakdown, they said. I’ll tell the world he’d have +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +had one for fair if he’d stayed with this outfit much +longer. I only wish they’d have taken his little pet +along with him. This is no place for little Harold +and he’ll find it out now he’s got a real captain. +Good-night! How d’you ’spose he ever got his commission, +anyway? Well, how are you, old top? +Feelin’ better? I knew they’d fix you up here. +They’re reg’ler guys! Well, I guess we better hit +the hay. Come on, I’ll show you where your billet +is. I looked out for a place with a good water-tight +roof. What d’ye think of the orchestra Jerry is +playing out there on the front? Some noise, eh, +what? Say, this little old hut is some good place to +tie up to, eh, pard! I’ve seen ’em before, that’s +how I knew.” +</p> +<p>During the days that followed Cameron spent +most of his leisure time in the Salvation Army Hut. +</p> +<p>He did not hover around the victrola as he +would probably have done several months before, +nor yet often join his voice in the ragtime song +that was almost continuous at the piano, regardless +of nearby shells, and usually accompanied by another +tune on the victrola. He did not hover around +the cooks and seek to make himself needful to them +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +there, placing himself at the seat of supplies and +handy when he was hungry—as did many. He sat +at one of the far tables, often writing letters or +reading his little book, or more often looking off +into space, seeing those last days at camp, and the +faces of his mother and Ruth. +</p> +<p>There was more than one reason why he spent +much of his time here. The hut was not frequented +much by officers, although they did come sometimes, +and were always welcomed, but never deferred to. +Wainwright would not be likely to be about and it +was always a relief to feel free from the presence of +his enemy. But gradually a third reason came to +play a prominent part in bringing him here, and +that was the atmosphere. He somehow felt as if +he were among real people who were living life earnestly, +as if the present were not all there was. +</p> +<p>There came a day when they were to move on +up to the actual front. Cameron wrote letters, such +as he had not dared to write before, for he had found +out that these women could get them to his people +in case anything should happen to him, and so he +left a little letter for Ruth and one for his mother, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +and asked the woman with the gray eyes to get them +back home somehow. +</p> +<p>There was not much of moment in the letters. +Even thus he dared not speak his heart for the iron +of Wainwright’s poison had entered into his soul. +He had begun to think that perhaps, in spite of all +her friendliness, Ruth really belonged to another +world, not his world. Yet just her friendliness +meant much to him in his great straight of loneliness. +He would take that much of her, at least, even if it +could never be more. He would leave a last word +for her. If behind his written words there was +breaking heart and tender love, she would never +dream it. If his soul was really taking another farewell +of her, what harm, since he said no sad word. +Yet it did him good to write these letters and feel a +reasonable assurance that they would sometime +reach their destination. +</p> +<p>There was a meeting held that night in the hut. +He had never happened to attend one before, although +he had heard the boys say they enjoyed +them. One of his comrades asked him to stay, and +a quick glance told him the fellow needed him, had +chosen him for moral support. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span></p> +<p>So Cameron sat in a shadowy corner of the +crowded room, and listened to the singing, wild and +strong, and with no hint of coming battle in its full +rolling lilt. He noted with satisfaction how the +“Long, Long Trail,” and “Pack Up Your +Troubles in Your Old Kit Bag” gradually gave +place to “Tell Mother I’ll Be There,” and “When +the Roll is Called Up Yonder,” growing strong and +full and solemn in the grand old melody of “Abide +With Me.” There were fellows there who but a few +hours before had been shooting crap, whose lips had +been loud with cheerful curses. Now they sat and +sang with all their hearts, the heartiest of the lot. +It was a curious psychological study to watch them. +Some of them were just as keen now on the religious +side of their natures as they had been with their +sport or their curses. Theirs were primitive natures, +easily wrought upon by the atmosphere of the moment, +easily impressed by the solemnity of the hour, +nearer, perhaps, to stopping to think about God +and eternity than ever before in their lives. But +there were also others here, thoughtful fellows who +were strong and brave, who had done their duty and +borne their hardships with the best, yet whose faces +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +now were solemn with earnestness, to whom this +meeting meant a last sacrament before they passed +to meet their test. Cameron felt his heart in perfect +sympathy with the gathering, and when the singing +stopped for a few minutes and the clear voice of a +young girl began to pray, he bowed his head with a +smart of tears in his eyes. She was a girl who had +just arrived that day, and she reminded him of +Ruth. She had pansy-blue eyes and long gold +ripples in her abundant hair. It soothed him like a +gentle hand on his heart to hear her speak those +words of prayer to God, praying for them all as if +they were her own brothers, praying as if she understood +just how they felt this night before they went +on their way. She was so young and gently cared +for, this girl with her plain soldier’s uniform, and +her fearlessness, praying as composedly out there +under fire as if she trusted perfectly that her heavenly +Father had control of everything and would +do the best for them all. What a wonderful girl! +Or, no—was it perhaps a wonderful trust? Stay, +was it not perhaps a wonderful heavenly Father? +And she had found Him? Perhaps she could tell +him the way and how he had missed it in his search! +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span></p> +<p>With this thought in his mind he lingered as the +most of the rest passed out, and turning he noticed +that the man who had come with him lingered also, +and edged up to the front where the lassie stood +talking with a group of men. +</p> +<p>Then one of the group spoke up boldly: +</p> +<p>“Say, Cap,” he addressed her almost reverently, +as if he had called her some queenly name instead of +captain, “say, Cap, I want to ask you a question. +Some of those fellows that preached to us have been +telling us that if we go over there, and don’t come +back it’ll be all right with us, just because we died +fighting for liberty. But we don’t believe that dope. +Why—d’ye mean to tell me, Cap, that if a fellow +has been rotten all his life he gets saved just because +he happened to get shot in a battle? Why some of +us didn’t even come over here to fight because we +wanted to; we had to, we were drafted. Do you +mean to tell me that makes it all right over here? I +can’t see that at all. And we want to know the +truth. You dope it out for us, Cap.” +</p> +<p>The young captain lassie slowly shook her head: +</p> +<p>“No, just dying doesn’t save you, son.” There +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +was a note of tenderness in that “son” as those +Salvation Army lassies spoke it, that put them +infinitely above the common young girl, as if some +angelic touch had set them apart for their holy ministry. +It was as if God were using their lips and +eyes and spirits to speak to these, his children, in +their trying hour. +</p> +<p>“You see, it’s this way. Everybody has sinned, +and the penalty of sin is death. You all know that?” +</p> +<p>Her eyes searched their faces, and appealed to +the truth hidden in the depths of their souls. They +nodded, those boys who were going out soon to face +death. They were willing to tell her that they +acknowledged their sins. They did not mind if they +said it before each other. They meant it now. Yes, +they were sinners and it was because they knew they +were that they wanted to know what chances they +stood in the other world. +</p> +<p>“But God loved us all so much that He wanted +to make a way for us to escape the punishment,” +went on the sweet steady voice, seeming to bring +the very love of the Father down into their midst +with its forceful, convincing tone. “And so He +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +sent His son, Jesus Christ, to take our place and +die on the Cross in our stead. Whoever is willing +to accept His atonement may be saved. And it’s +all up to us whether we will take it or not. It isn’t +anything we can do or be. It is just taking Jesus +as our Saviour, believing in Him, and taking Him +at His word.” +</p> +<p>Cameron lingered and knelt with the rest when +she prayed again for them, and in his own heart he +echoed the prayer of acceptance that others were +putting up. As he went out into the black night, +and later, on the silent march through the dark, he +was turning it over in his mind. It seemed to him +the simplest, the most sensible explanation of the +plan of Salvation he had ever heard. He wondered +if the minister at home knew all this and had meant +it when he tried to explain. But no, that minister +had not tried to explain, he had told him he would +grow into it, and here he was perhaps almost at the +end and he had not grown into it yet. That young +girl to-night had said it took only an instant to +settle the whole thing, and she looked as if her soul +was resting on it. Why could he not get peace? +Why could he not find God? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span></p> +<p>Then out of the dark and into his thoughts came +a curse and a sneer and a curt rebuke from Wainwright, +and all his holy and beautiful thoughts fled! +He longed to lunge out of the dark and spring upon +that fat, flabby lieutenant, and throttle him. So, in +bitterness of spirit he marched out to face the foe. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +<h2>XVIII</h2> +</div> + +<p>When Ruth Macdonald got back from camp +she found herself utterly dissatisfied with her old +life. The girls in her social set were full of war +plans. They had one and all enlisted in every +activity that was going. Each one appeared in some +pretty and appropriate uniform, and took the new +régime with as much eagerness and enthusiasm as +ever she had put into dancing and dressing. +</p> +<p>Not that they had given up either of those employments. +Oh, dear no! When they were not +busy getting up little dances for the poor dear soldier +boys from the nearby camps, they were learning +new solo steps wherewith to entertain those +soldier boys when their turn came to go to camp and +keep up the continuous performance that seemed to +be necessary to the cheering of a good soldier. And +as for dressing, no one need ever suggest again a +uniform for women as the solution of the high cost +of dressing. The number of dainty devices of gold +braid and red stars and silver tassels that those same +staid uniforms developed made plain forever that +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +the woman who chooses can make even a uniform +distinctive and striking and altogether costly. In +short they went into the war with the same superficial +flightiness formerly employed in the social +realms. They went dashing here and there in their +high-power cars on solemn errands, with all the +nonchalance of their ignorance and youth, till one, +knowing some of them well, trembled for the errand +if it were important. And many of them were +really useful, which only goes to prove that a tremendous +amount of unsuspected power is wasted +every year and that unskilled labor often accomplishes +almost as much as skilled. Some of them +secured positions in the Navy Yard, or in other +public offices, where they were thrown delightfully +into intimacies with officers, and were able to step +over the conventionalities of their own social positions +into wildly exciting Bohemian adventures +under the popular guise of patriotism, without a +rebuke from their elders. There was not a dull +hour in the little town. The young men of their +social set might all be gone to war, but there were +others, and the whirl of life went on gaily for the +thoughtless butterflies, who danced and knitted and +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +drove motor cars, and made bandages and just rejoiced +to walk the streets knitting on the Sabbath +day, a gay cretonne knitting bag on arm, and knitting +needles plying industriously as if the world +would go naked if they did not work every minute. +Just a horde of rebellious young creatures, who at +heart enjoyed the unwonted privilege of breaking +the Sabbath and shocking a few fanatics, far more +than they really cared to knit. But nobody had +time to pry into the quality of such patriotism. +There were too many other people doing the same +thing, and so it passed everywhere for the real thing, +and the world whirled on and tried to be gay to +cover its deep heartache and stricken horror over +the sacrifice of its sons. +</p> +<p>But Ruth, although she bravely tried for several +weeks, could not throw herself into such things. +She felt that they were only superficial. There +might be a moiety of good in all these things, but +they were not the real big things of life; not the +ways in which the vital help could be given, and she +longed with her whole soul to get in on it somewhere. +</p> +<p>The first Sabbath after her return from camp +she happened into a bit of work which while it was +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +in no way connected with war work, still helped to +interest her deeply and keep her thinking along the +lines that had been started while she was with +John Cameron. +</p> +<p>A quiet, shy, plain little woman, an old member +of the church and noted for good work, came hurrying +down the aisle after the morning service and implored +a young girl in the pew just in front of Ruth +to help her that afternoon in an Italian Sunday +school she was conducting in a small settlement +about a mile and a half from Bryne Haven: +</p> +<p>“It’s only to play the hymns, Miss Emily,” she +said. “Carrie Wayne has to go to a funeral. She +always plays for me. I wouldn’t ask you if I could +play the least mite myself, but I can’t. And the +singing won’t go at all without someone to play +the piano.” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Beck, but I really can’t!” +pleaded Miss Emily quickly. “I promised to help +out in the canteen work this afternoon. You know +the troop trains are coming through, and Mrs. Martin +wanted me to take her place all the afternoon.” +</p> +<p>Mrs. Beck’s face expressed dismay. She gave a +hasty glance around the rapidly emptying church. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span></p> +<p>“Oh, dear, I don’t know what I’ll do!” she said. +</p> +<p>“Oh, let them do without singing for once,” suggested +the carefree Emily. “Everybody ought to +learn to do without something in war time. We +conserve sugar and flour, let the Italians conserve +singing!” and with a laugh at her own brightness +she hurried away. +</p> +<p>Ruth reached forward and touched the troubled +little missionary on the arm: +</p> +<p>“Would I do?” she asked. “I never played +hymns much, but I could try.” +</p> +<p>“Oh! Would you?” A flood of relief went +over the woman’s face, and Ruth was instantly glad +she had offered. She took Mrs. Beck down to the +settlement in her little runabout, and the afternoon’s +experience opened a new world to her. It was the +first time she had ever come in contact with the +really poor and lowly of the earth, and she proved +herself a true child of God in that she did not shrink +from them because many of them were dirty and +poorly clad. Before the first afternoon was over +she had one baby in her arms and three others hanging +about her chair with adoring glances. They +could not talk in her language, but they stared into +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +her beautiful face with their great dark eyes, and +spoke queer unintelligible words to one another +about her. The whole little company were delighted +with the new “pretty lady” who had come among +them. They openly examined her simple lovely +frock and hat and touched with shy furtive fingers +the blue ribbon that floated over the bench from her +girdle. Mrs. Beck was in the seventh heaven and +begged her to come again, and Ruth, equally +charmed, promised to go every Sunday. For it +appeared that the wayward pianist was very irregular +and had to be constantly coaxed. +</p> +<p>Ruth entered into the work with zest. She took +the children’s class which formerly had been with +the older ones, and gathering them about her told +them Bible stories till their young eyes bulged with +wonder and their little hearts almost burst with love +of her. Love God? Of course they would. Try +to please Jesus? Certainly, if “Mrs. Ruth,” as +they called her, said they should. They adored her. +</p> +<p>She fell into the habit of going down during the +week and slipping into their homes with a big basket +of bright flowers from her home garden which she +distributed to young and old. Even the men, when +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +they happened to be home from work, wanted the +flowers, and touched them with eager reverence. +Somehow the little community of people so different +from herself filled her thoughts more and more. +She began to be troubled that some of the men +drank and beat their wives and little children in +consequence. She set herself to devise ways to keep +them from it. She scraped acquaintance with one +or two of the older boys in her own church and +enlisted them to help her, and bought a moving picture +machine which she took to the settlement. She +spent hours attending moving picture shows that +she might find the right films for their use. Fortunately +she had money enough for all her schemes, +and no one to hinder her good work, although Aunt +Rhoda did object strenuously at first on the ground +that she might “catch something.” But Ruth only +smiled and said: “That’s just what I’m out for, +Auntie, dear! I want to catch them all, and try to +make them live better lives. Other people are going +to France. I haven’t got a chance to go yet, but +while I stay here I must do something. I can’t be +an idler.” +</p> +<p>Aunt Rhoda looked at her quizzically. She +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +wondered if Ruth was worried about one of her men +friends—and which one? +</p> +<p>“If you’d only take up some nice work for the +Government, dear, such as the other girls are +doing!” she sighed, “work that would bring you +into contact with nice people! You always have to +do something queer. I’m sure I don’t know where +you got your low tendencies!” +</p> +<p>But Ruth would be off before more could be +said. This was an old topic of Aunt Rhoda’s and +had been most fully discussed during the young +years of Ruth’s life, so that she did not care to enter +into it further. +</p> +<p>But Ruth was not fully satisfied with just helping +her Italians. The very week she came back from +camp she had gone to their old family physician who +held a high and responsible position in the medical +world, and made her plea: +</p> +<p>“Daddy-Doctor,” she said, using her old childish +name for him, “you’ve got to find a way for me +to go over there and help the war. I know I don’t +know much about nursing, but I’m sure I could +learn. I’ve taken care of Grandpa and Auntie a +great many times and watched the trained nurses, +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +and I’m sure if Lalla Farrington and Bernice +Brooks could get into the Red Cross and go over in +such a short time I’m as bright as they.” +</p> +<p>“Brighter!” said the old doctor eyeing her approvingly. +“But what will your people say?” +</p> +<p>“They’ll have to let me, Daddy-Doctor. Besides, +everybody else is doing it, and you know that +has great weight with Aunt Rhoda.” +</p> +<p>“It’s a hard life, child! You never saw much +of pain and suffering and horror.” +</p> +<p>“Well, it’s time, then.” +</p> +<p>“But those men over there you would have to +care for will not be like your grandfather and aunt. +They will be dirty and bloody, and covered with +filth and vermin.” +</p> +<p>“Well, what of that!” +</p> +<p>“Could you stand it?” +</p> +<p>“So you think I’m a butterfly, too, do you, +Daddy-Doctor? Well, I want to prove to you that +I’m not. I’ve been doing my best to get used to +dirt and distress. I washed a little sick Italian baby +yesterday and helped it’s mother scrub her floor and +make the house clean.” +</p> +<p>“The dickens you did!” beamed the doctor +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +proudly. “I always knew you had a lot of grit. I +guess you’ve got the right stuff in you. But say, +if I help you you’ve got to tell me the real reason +why you want to go, or else—nothing doing! Understand? +I know you aren’t like the rest, just wanting +to get into the excitement and meet a lot of +officers and have a good time so you can say afterward +you were there. You aren’t that kind of a +girl. What’s the real reason you want to go? Have +you got somebody over there you’re interested in?” +</p> +<p>He looked at her keenly, with loving, anxious +eyes as her father’s friend who had known her from +birth might look. +</p> +<p>Ruth’s face grew rosy, and her eyes dropped, +but lifted again undaunted: +</p> +<p>“And if I have, Daddy-Doctor, is there anything +wrong about that?” +</p> +<p>The doctor frowned: +</p> +<p>“It isn’t that fat chump of a Wainwright, is it? +Because if it is I shan’t lift my finger to help you go.” +</p> +<p>But Ruth’s laugh rang out clear and free. +</p> +<p>“Never! dear friend, never! Set your mind at +rest about him,” she finished, sobering down. “And +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +if I care for someone, Daddy-Doctor, can’t you +trust me I’d pick out someone who was all right?” +</p> +<p>“I suppose so!” grumbled the doctor only half +satisfied, “but girls are so dreadfully blind.” +</p> +<p>“I think you’d like him,” she hazarded, her +cheeks growing pinker, “that is, you would if there +<i>is</i> anybody,” she corrected herself laughing. “But +you see, it’s a secret yet and maybe always will be. +I’m not sure that he knows, and I’m not quite sure +I know myself——” +</p> +<p>“Oh, I see!” said the doctor watching her sweet +face with a tender jealousy in his eyes. “Well, I +suppose I’ll help you to go, but I’ll shoot him, remember, +if he doesn’t turn out to be all right. It +would take a mighty superior person to be good +enough for you, little girl.” +</p> +<p>“That’s just what he is,” said Ruth sweetly, +and then rising and stooping over him she dropped +a kiss on the wavy silver lock of hair that hung over +the doctor’s forehead. +</p> +<p>“Thank you, Daddy-Doctor! I knew you +would,” she said happily. “And please don’t be too +long about it. I’m in a great hurry.” +</p> +<p>The doctor promised, of course. No one could +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +resist Ruth when she was like that, and in due time +certain forces were set in operation to the end that +she might have her desire. +</p> +<p>Meanwhile, as she waited, Ruth filled her days +with thoughts of others, not forgetting Cameron’s +mother for whom she was always preparing some +little surprise, a dainty gift, some fruit or flowers, +a book that she thought might comfort and while +away her loneliness, a restful ride at the early evening, +all the little things that a thoughtful daughter +might do for a mother. And Cameron’s mother +wrote him long letters about it all which would have +delighted his heart during those dreary days if they +could only have reached him then. +</p> +<p>Ruth’s letters to Cameron were full of the +things she was doing, full of her sweet wise thoughts +that seemed to be growing wiser every day. She +had taken pictures of her Italian friends and introduced +him to them one by one. She had filled every +page with little word pictures of her daily life. It +seemed a pity that he could not have had them just +when he needed them most. It would have filled +her with dismay if she could have known the long +wandering journey that was before those letters before +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +they would finally reach him; she might have +been discouraged from writing them. +</p> +<p>Little Mrs. Beck was suddenly sent for one +Sunday morning to attend her sister who was very +ill, and she hastily called Ruth over the telephone +and begged her to take her place at the Sunday +school. Ruth promised to secure some one to teach +the lesson, but found to her dismay that no one was +willing to go at such short notice. And so, with +trembling heart she knelt for a hasty petition that +God would guide her and show her how to lead these +simple people in the worship of the day. +</p> +<p>As she stood before them trying to make plain +in the broken, mixed Italian and English, the story +of the blind man, which was the lesson for the day, +there came over her a sense of her great responsibility. +She knew that these people trusted her and +that what she told them they would believe, and her +heart lifted itself in a sharp cry for help, for light, +to give to them. She felt an appalling lack of +knowledge and experience herself. Where had she +been all these young years of her life, and what had +she been doing that she had not learned the way of +life so that she might put it before them? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span></p> +<p>Before her sat a woman bowed with years, her +face seamed with sorrow and hard work, and grimed +with lack of care, a woman whose husband frequently +beat her for attending Sunday school. +There were four men on the back seat, hard workers, +listening with eager eyes, assenting vigorously when +she spoke of the sorrow on the earth. They, too, +had seen trouble. They sat there patient, sad-eyed, +wistful; what could she show them out of the Book +of God to bring a light of joy to their faces? There +were little children whose future looked so full of +hard knocks and toil that it seemed a wonder they +were willing to grow up knowing what was before +them. The money that had smoothed her way thus +far through life was not for them. The comfortable +home and food and raiment and light and luxury +that had made her life so full of ease were almost +unknown to them. Had she anything better to +offer them than mere earthly comforts which probably +could never be theirs, no matter how hard they +might strive? But, after all, money and ease could +in no way soothe the pain of the heart, and she had +come close enough already to these people to know +they had each one his own heart’s pain and sorrow +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +to bear. There was one man who had lost five little +children by death. That death had come in consequence +of dirt and ignorance made it no easier to +bear. The dirt and ignorance had not all been his +fault. People who were wiser and had not cared +to help were to blame. What was the remedy for +the world’s sorrow, the world’s need? +</p> +<p>Ruth knew in a general way that Jesus Christ +was the Saviour of the world, that His name should +be the remedy for evil; but how to put it to them in +simple form, ah! that was it. It was Cameron’s +search for God, and it seemed that all the world was +on the same search. But now to-day she had suddenly +come on some of the footprints of the Man of +Sorrow as He toiled over the mountains of earth +searching for lost humanity, and her own heart +echoed His love and sorrow for the world. She cried +out in her helplessness for something to give to these +wistful people. +</p> +<p>Somehow the prayer must have been answered, +for the little congregation hung upon her words, +and one old man with deep creases in his forehead +and kindly wrinkles around his eyes spoke out in +meeting and said: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span></p> +<p>“I like God. I like Him good. I like Him all +e time wi’ mee! All e time. Ev’e where! Him live +in my house!” +</p> +<p>The tears sprang to her eyes with answering +sympathy. Here in her little mission she had found +a brother soul, seeking after God. She had another +swift vision then of what the kinship of the whole +world meant, and how Christ could love everybody. +</p> +<p>After Sunday school was out little Sanda came +stealing up to her: +</p> +<p>“Mine brudder die,” she said sorrowfully. +</p> +<p>“What? Tony? The pretty fat baby? Oh, +I’m so sorry!” said Ruth putting her arm tenderly +around the little girl. “Where is your mother? I +must go and see her.” +</p> +<p>Down the winding unkept road they walked, the +delicately reared girl and the little Italian drudge, +to the hovel where the family were housed, a +tumbled-down affair of ancient stone, tawdrily +washed over in some season past with scaling pink +whitewash. The noisy abode of the family pig was +in front of the house in the midst of a trim little +garden of cabbage, lettuce, garlic, and tomatoes. +But the dirty swarming little house usually so full +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +of noise and good cheer was tidy to-day, and no +guests hovered on the brief front stoop sipping +from a friendly bottle, or playing the accordion. +There was not an accordion heard in the community, +for there had been a funeral that morning and every +one was trying to be quiet out of respect for the +bereaved parents. +</p> +<p>And there in the open doorway, in his shirt +sleeves, crouched low upon the step, sat the head of +the house, his swarthy face bowed upon his knees, a +picture of utter despair, and just beyond the +mother’s head was bowed upon her folded arms on +the window seat, and thus they mourned in public +silence before their little world. +</p> +<p>Ruth’s heart went out to the two poor ignorant +creatures in their grief as she remembered the little +dark child with the brown curls and glorious eyes +who had resembled one of Raphael’s cherubs, and +thought how empty the mother’s arms would be +without him. +</p> +<p>“Oh, Sanda, tell your mother how sorry I am!” +she said to the little girl, for the mother could not +speak or understand English. “Tell her not to +mourn so terribly, dear. Tell her that the dear baby +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +is safe and happy with Jesus! Tell her she will go +to Him some day.” +</p> +<p>And as the little girl interpreted her words, suddenly +Ruth knew that what she was speaking was +truth, truth she might have heard before but never +recognized or realized till now. +</p> +<p>The mother lifted her sorrowful face all tear +swollen and tried a pitiful smile, nodded to say she +understood, then dropped sobbing again upon the +window sill. The father lifted a sad face, not too +sober, but blear-eyed and pitiful, too, in his hopelessness, +and nodded as if he accepted the fact she had +told but it gave him no comfort, and then went back +to his own despair. +</p> +<p>Ruth turned away with aching heart, praying: +“Oh, God, they need you! Come and comfort them. +I don’t know how!” But somehow, on her homeward +way she seemed to have met and been greeted +by her Saviour. +</p> +<p>It was so she received her baptism for the work +that she was to do. +</p> +<p>The next day permission came for her to go to +France, and she entered upon her brief training. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></p> +<p>“Don’t you dread to have her go?” asked a +neighbor of Aunt Rhoda. +</p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” sighed the good lady comfortably, +“but then she is going in good company, and it isn’t +as if all the best people weren’t doing it. Of course, +it will be great experience for her, and I wouldn’t +want to keep her out of it. She’ll meet a great many +nice people over there that she might not have met +if she had stayed at home. Everybody, they tell +me, is at work over there. She’ll be likely to meet +the nobility. It isn’t as if we didn’t have friends +there, too, who will be sure to invite her over week +ends. If she gets tired she can go to them, you +know. And really, I was glad to have something +come up to take her away from that miserable little +country slum she has been so crazy about. I was +dreadfully afraid she would catch something there +or else they would rob us and murder us and kidnap +her some day.” +</p> +<p>And that was the way things presented themselves +to Aunt Rhoda! +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +<h2>XIX</h2> +</div> + +<p>All day the shells had been flying thick and +fast. When night settled down the fire was so continuous +that one could trace the battle front by the +reflection in the sky. +</p> +<p>Cameron stood at his post under the stars and +cried out in his soul for God. For days now Death +had stalked them very close. His comrades had +fallen all about him. There seemed to be no chance +for safety. And where was God? Had He no part +in all this Hell on earth? Did He not care? Would +He not be found? All his seeking and praying and +reading of the little book seemed to have brought +God no nearer. He was going out pretty soon, in +the natural order of the battle if things kept on, out +into the other life, without having found the God +who had promised that if he would believe, and if +he would seek with all his heart he would surely +find Him. +</p> +<p>Once in a Y.M.C.A. hut on a Sunday night a +great tenor came to entertain them, and sang almost +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +the very words that the stranger back in the States +had written in his little book: +</p> +<div class='blockquot'> +<p>“If with, all your hearts ye truly seek Him ye shall ever +surely find him. Thus saith your God!” +</p> +</div> +<p>And ever since that song had rung its wonderful +melody down deep in his heart he had been seeking, +seeking in all the ways he knew, with a longing +that would not be satisfied. And yet he seemed to +have found nothing. +</p> +<p>So now as he walked silently beneath the stars, +looking up, his soul was crying out with the longing +of despair to find a Saviour, the Christ of his soul. +Amid all the shudderings of the battle-rent earth, +the concussions of the bursting shells, could even +God hear a soul’s low cry? +</p> +<p>Suddenly out in the darkness in front of him +there flickered a tiny light, only a speck of a glint +it was, the spark of a cigarette, but it was where it +had no business to be, and it was Cameron’s business +to see that it was not there. They had been +given strict orders that there must be no lights and +no sounds to give away their position. Even though +his thoughts were with the stars in his search for +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +God, his senses were keen and on the alert. He +sprang instantly and silently, appearing before the +delinquent like a miracle. +</p> +<p>“Halt!” he said under his breath. “Can that +cigarette!” +</p> +<p>“I guess you don’t know who I am!” swaggered +a voice thick and unnatural that yet had a +familiar sound. +</p> +<p>“It makes no difference who you are, you can’t +smoke on this post while I’m on duty. Those are +my orders!” and with a quick motion he caught the +cigarette from the loose lips and extinguished it, +grinding it into the ground with his heel. +</p> +<p>“I’ll—have you—c-c-co-marshalled fer this!” +stuttered the angry officer, stepping back unsteadily +and raising his fist. +</p> +<p>In disgust Cameron turned his back and walked +away. How had Wainwright managed to bring +liquor with him to the front? Something powerful +and condensed, no doubt, to steady his nerves in +battle. Wainwright had ever been noted for his +cowardice. His breath was heavy with it. How +could a man want to meet death in such a way? He +turned to look again, and Wainwright was walking +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +unsteadily away across the line where they had been +forbidden to go, out into the open where the shells +were flying. Cameron watched him for an instant +with mingled feelings. To think he called himself +a man, and dared to boast of marrying such a woman +as Ruth Macdonald. Well, what if he did go into +danger and get killed! The world was better off +without him! Cameron’s heart was burning hot +within him. His enemy was at last within his power. +No one but himself had seen Wainwright move off +in that direction where was certain death within a +few minutes. It was no part of his duty to stop him. +He was not supposed to know he had been drinking. +</p> +<p>The whistle of a shell went ricocheting through +the air and Cameron dropped as he had been taught +to do, but lifted his eyes in time to see Wainwright +throw up his arms, drop on the edge of the hill, and +disappear. The shell plowed its way in a furrow a +few feet away and Cameron rose to his feet. +Sharply, distinctly, in a brief lull of the din about +him he heard his name called. It sounded from +down the hill, a cry of distress, but it did not sound +like Wainwright’s voice: +</p> +<p>“Cameron! Come! Help!” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span></p> +<p>He obeyed instantly, although, strange to say, +he had no thought of its being Wainwright. He +crept cautiously out to the edge of the hill and +looked over. The blare of the heavens made objects +below quite visible. He could see Wainwright +huddled as he had fallen. While he looked the +injured man lifted his head, struggled to crawl +feebly, but fell back again. He felt a sense of +relief that at last his enemy was where he could do +no more harm. Then, through the dim darkness he +saw a figure coming toward the prostrate form, and +stooping over to touch him. It showed white against +the darkness and it paid no heed to the shell that +suddenly whistled overhead. It half lifted the head +of the fallen officer, and then straightened up and +looked toward Cameron; and again, although there +was no sound audible now in the din that the battle +was making, he felt himself called. +</p> +<p>A strange thrill of awe possessed him. Was +that the Christ out there whom he had been seeking? +And what did he expect of him? To come out +there to his enemy? To the man who had been in +many ways the curse of his young life? +</p> +<p>Suddenly as he still hesitated a verse from his +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +Testament which had often come to his notice returned +clearly to his mind: +</p> +<p>“If thou bringest thy gift to the altar, and there +rememberest that thy brother hath aught against +thee, leave there thy gift before the altar. First be +reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer +thy gift.” +</p> +<p>Was this, then, what was required of him? Had +his hate toward Wainwright been what had hindered +him from finding God? +</p> +<p>There was no time now to argue that this man +was not his brother. The man would be killed certainly +if he lay there many minutes. The opportunity +would pass as quickly as it had come. The +Christ he sought was out there expecting him to +come, and he must lose no time in going to Him. +How gladly would he have faced death to go to +Him! But Wainwright! That was different! +Could it be this that was required of him? Then +back in his soul there echoed the words: “If with +all your heart ye truly seek.” Slowly he crept forward +over the brow of the hill, and into the light, +going toward that white figure above the huddled +dark one; creeping painfully, with bullets ripping +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span> +up the earth about him. He was going to the Christ, +with all his heart—yes, all his heart! Even if it +meant putting by his enmity forever! +</p> +<p>Somewhere on the way he understood. +</p> +<p>When he reached the fallen man there was no +white figure there, but he was not surprised nor disappointed. +The Christ was not there because he +had entered into his heart. He had found Him +at last! +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>Back at the base hospital they told Wainwright +one day how Cameron had crawled with him on his +back, out from under the searchlights amid the +shells, and into safety. It was the only thing that +saved his life, for if he had lain long with the wound +he had got, there would have been no chance for +him. Wainwright, when he heard it, lay thoughtful +for a long time, a puzzled, half-sullen look on +his face. He saw that everybody considered Cameron +a hero. There was no getting away from that +the rest of his life. One could not in decency be an +enemy of a man who had saved one’s life. Cameron +had won out in a final round. It would not be good +policy not to recognize it. It would be entirely too +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +unpopular. He must make friends with him. It +would be better to patronize him than to be patronized +by him. Perhaps also, down in the depths of +his fat selfish heart there was a little bit of gratitude +mixed with it all. For he <i>did</i> love life, and he <i>was</i> +a mortal coward. +</p> +<p>So he sent for Cameron one day, and Cameron +came. He did not want to come. He dreaded the +interview worse than anything he had ever had to +face before. But he came. He came with the +same spirit he had gone out into the shell-fire after +Wainwright. Because he felt that the Christ asked +it of him. +</p> +<p>He stood stern and grave at the foot of the little +hospital cot and listened while Wainwright pompously +thanked him, and told him graciously that +now that he had saved his life he was going to put +aside all the old quarrels and be his friend. Cameron +smiled sadly. There was no bitterness in his smile. +Perhaps just the least fringe of amusement, but no +hardness. He even took the bandaged hand that +was offered as a token that peace had come between +them who had so long been at war. All the +time were ringing in his heart the words: “With +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +all your heart! With all your heart!” He had the +Christ, what else mattered? +</p> +<p>Somehow Wainwright felt that he had not quite +made the impression on this strong man that he had +hoped, and in an impulse to be more than gracious +he reached his good hand under his pillow and +brought forth an envelope. +</p> +<p>When Corporal Cameron saw the writing on +that envelop he went white under the tan of +the battlefield, but he stood still and showed no +other sign: +</p> +<p>“When I get back home I’m going to be married,” +said the complacent voice, “and my wife and +I will want you to come and take dinner with us +some day. I guess you know who the girl is. She +lives in Bryne Haven up on the hill. Her name is +Ruth Macdonald. I’ve just had a letter from her. +I’ll have to write her how you saved my life. She’ll +want to thank you, too.” +</p> +<p>How could Cameron possibly know that that +envelope addressed in Ruth Macdonald’s precious +handwriting contained nothing but the briefest +word of thanks for an elaborate souvenir that Wainwright +had sent her from France? +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span></p> +<p>“What’s the matter with Cammie?” his comrades +asked one another when he came back to his +company. “He looks as though he had lost his last +friend. Did he care so much for that Wainwright +guy that he saved? I’m sure I don’t see what he +sees in him. I wouldn’t have taken the trouble to +go out after him, would you?” +</p> +<p>Cameron’s influence had been felt quietly among +his company. In his presence the men refrained +from certain styles of conversation, when he sat +apart and read his Testament they hushed their +boisterous talk, and lately some had come to read +with him. He was generally conceded to be the +bravest man in their company, and when a fellow +had to die suddenly he liked Cameron to hold him +in his arms. +</p> +<p>So far Cameron had not had a scratch, and the +men had come to think he had a charmed life. More +than he knew he was beloved of them all. More +than they knew their respect for him was deepening +into a kind of awe. They felt he had a power with +him that they understood not. He was still the silent +corporal. He talked not at all of his new-found +experience, yet it shone in his face in a mysterious +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +light. Even after he came from Wainwright with +that stricken look, there was above it all a glory behind +his eyes that not even that could change. For +three days he went into the thick of the battle, moving +from one hairbreadth escape to another with +the calmness of an angel who knows his life is not +of earth, and on the fourth day there came the awful +battle, the struggle for a position that had been held +by the enemy for four years, and that had been +declared impregnable from the side of the Allies. +</p> +<p>The boys all fought bravely and many fell, but +foremost of them all passing unscathed from height +to height, Corporal Cameron on the lead in fearlessness +and spirit; and when the tide at last was turned +and they stood triumphant among the dead, and +saw the enemy retiring in disorder, it was Cameron +who was still in the forefront, his white face and +tattered uniform catching the last rays of the setting +sun. +</p> +<p>Later when the survivors had all come together +one came to the captain with a white face and +anxious eyes: +</p> +<p>“Captain, where’s Cammie? We can’t find +him anywhere.” +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></p> +<p>“He came a half hour ago and volunteered to +slip through the enemy’s lines to-night and send us +back a message,” he said in husky tones. +</p> +<p>“But, captain, he was wounded!” +</p> +<p>“He was?” The captain looked up startled. +“He said nothing about it!” +</p> +<p>“He wouldn’t, of course,” said the soldier. +“He’s that way. But he was wounded in the arm. +I helped him bind it up.” +</p> +<p>“How bad?” +</p> +<p>“I don’t know. He wouldn’t let me look. He +said he would attend to it when he got back.” +</p> +<p>“Well, he’s taken a wireless in his pocket and +crept across No Man’s Land to find out what the +enemy is going to do. He’s wearing a dead Jerry’s +uniform——!” +</p> +<p>The captain turned and brushed the back of his +hand across his eyes and a low sound between a sob +and a whispered cheer went up from the gathered +remnant as they rendered homage to their comrade. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> + +<p>For three days the messages came floating in, +telling vital secrets that were of vast strategic value. +Then the messages ceased, and the anxious officers +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +and comrades looked in vain for word. Two more +days passed—three—and still no sign that showed +that he was alive, and the word went forth “Missing!” +and “Missing” he was proclaimed in the +newspapers at home. +</p> +<p>That night there was a lull in the sector where +Cameron’s company was located. No one could +guess what was going on across the wide dark space +called No Man’s Land. The captain sent anxious +messages to other officers, and the men at the listening +posts had no clue to give. It was raining and +a chill bias sleet that cut like knives was driving +from the northeast. Water trickled into the dugouts, +and sopped through the trenches, and the men +shuddered their way along dark passages and +waited. Only scattered artillery fire lit up the +heavens here and there. It was a night when all +hell seemed let loose to have its way with earth. +The watch paced back and forth and prayed or +cursed, and counted the minutes till his watch would +be up. Across the blackness of No Man’s Land +pock-marked with great shell craters, there raged +a tempest, and even a Hun would turn his back and +look the other way in such a storm. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></p> +<p>Slowly, oh so slow that not even the earth would +know it was moving, there crept a dark creature +forth from the enemy line. A thing all of spirit +could not have gone more invisibly. Lying like a +stone as motionless for spaces uncountable, stirring +every muscle with a controlled movement that could +stop at any breath, lying under the very nose of +the guard without being seen for long minutes, and +gone when next he passed that way; slowly, painfully +gaining ground, with a track of blood where +the stones were cruel, and a holding of breath when +the fitful flare lights lit up the way; covered at +times by mud from nearby bursting shells; faint and +sick, but continuing to creep; chilled and sore and +stiff, blinded and bleeding and torn, shell holes and +stones and miring mud, slippery and sharp and +never ending, the long, long trail——! +</p> +<p>“Halt!” came a sharp, clear voice through +the night. +</p> +<p>“Pat! Come here! What is that?” whispered +the guard. “Now watch! I’m sure I saw it +move——There! I’m going to it!” +</p> +<p>“Better look out!” But he was off and back +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span> +with something in his arms. Something in a ragged +blood-soaked German uniform. +</p> +<p>They turned a shaded flash light into the face +and looked: +</p> +<p>“Pat, it’s Cammie!” The guard was sobbing. +</p> +<p>At sound of the dear old name the inert mass +roused to action. +</p> +<p>“Tell Cap—they’re planning to slip away at +five in the morning. Tell him if he wants to catch +them he must do it <i>now</i>! Don’t mind me! +Go quick!” +</p> +<p>The voice died away and the head dropped back. +</p> +<p>With a last wistful look Pat was off to the captain, +but the guard gathered Cameron up in his +arms tenderly and nursed him like a baby, crooning +over him in the sleet and dark, till Pat came back +with a stretcher and some men who bore him to the +dressing station lying inert between them. +</p> +<p>While men worked over his silent form his message +was flashing to headquarters and back over +the lines to all the posts along that front. The time +had come for the big drive. In a short time a great +company of dark forms stole forth across No Man’s +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +Land till they seemed like a wide dark sea creeping +on to engulf the enemy. +</p> +<p>Next morning the newspapers of the world set +forth in monstrous type the glorious victory and +how the Americans had stolen upon the enemy and +cut them off from the rest of their army, wiping out +a whole salient. +</p> +<p>But while the world was rejoicing, John Cameron +lay on his little hard stretcher in the tent and +barely breathed. He had not opened his eyes nor +spoken again. +</p> +<hr class='major' /> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +<h2>XX</h2> +</div> + +<p>A nurse stepped up to the doctor’s desk: +</p> +<p>“A new girl is here ready for duty. Is there +any special place you want her put?” she asked in +a low tone. +</p> +<p>The doctor looked up with a frown: +</p> +<p>“One of those half-trained Americans, I suppose?” +he growled. “Well, every little helps. I’d +give a good deal for half a dozen fully trained nurses +just now. Suppose you send her to relieve Miss +Jennings. She can’t do any harm to number +twenty-nine.” +</p> +<p>“Isn’t there any hope for him?” the nurse +asked, a shade of sadness in her eyes. +</p> +<p>“I’m afraid not!” said the doctor shortly. “He +won’t take any interest in living, that’s the trouble. +He isn’t dying of his wounds. Something is troubling +him. But it’s no use trying to find out what. +He shuts up like a clam.” +</p> +<p>The new nurse flushed outside the door as she +heard herself discussed and shut her firm little lips +in a determined way as she followed the head nurse +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +down the long rows of cots to an alcove at the end +where a screen shut the patient from view. +</p> +<p>Miss Jennings, a plain girl with tired eyes, gave +a few directions and she was left with her patient. +She turned toward the cot and stopped with a soft +gasp of recognition, her face growing white and set +as she took in the dear familiar outline of the fine +young face before her. Every word she had heard +outside the doctor’s office rang distinctly in her ears. +He was dying. He did not want to live. With +another gasp that was like a sob she slipped to her +knees beside the cot, forgetful of her duties, of the +ward outside, or the possible return of the nurses, +forgetful of everything but that he was there, her +hero of the years! +</p> +<p>She reached for one of his hands, the one that +was not bandaged, and she laid her soft cheek +against it, and held her breath to listen. Perhaps +even now behind that quiet face the spirit had departed +beyond her grasp. +</p> +<p>There was no flutter of the eyelids even. She +could not see that he still breathed, although his +hand was not cold, and his face when she touched it +still seemed human. She drew closer in an agony +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +of fear, and laid her lips against his cheek, and then +her face softly, with one hand about his other cheek. +Her lips were close to his ear now. +</p> +<p>“John!” she whispered softly, “John! My +dear knight!” +</p> +<p>There was a quiver of the eyelids now, a faint +hesitating sigh. She touched her lips to his and +spoke his name again. A faint smile flickered over +his features as if he were seeing other worlds of +beauty that had no connection here. But still she +continued to press her face against his cheek and +whisper his name. +</p> +<p>At last he opened his eyes, with a bewildered, +wondering gaze and saw her. The old dear smile +broke forth: +</p> +<p>“Ruth! You here? Is this—heaven?” +</p> +<p>“Not yet,” she whispered softly. “But it’s +earth, and the war is over! I’ve come to help you +get well and take you home! It’s really you and +you’re not ‘Missing’ any more.” +</p> +<p>Then without any excuse at all she laid her lips +on his forehead and kissed him. She had read her +permit in his eyes. +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></p> +<p>His well arm stole out and pressed her to him +hungrily: +</p> +<p>“It’s—really you and you don’t belong to anybody +else?” he asked, anxiously searching her face +for his answer. +</p> +<p>“Oh, John! I never did belong to anybody else +but you. All my life ever since I was a little girl +I’ve thought you were wonderful! Didn’t you +know that? Didn’t you see down at camp? I’m +sure it was written all over my face.” +</p> +<p>His hand crept up and pressed her face close +against his: +</p> +<p>“Oh, my darling!” he breathed, “<i>my</i> darling! +The most wonderful girl in the world!” +</p> +<p>When the doctor and nurse pushed back the +screen and entered the little alcove the new nurse +sat demurely at the foot of the cot, but a little while +later the voice of the patient rang out joyously: +</p> +<p>“Doctor, how soon can I get out of this. I think +I’ve stayed here about long enough.” +</p> +<p>The wondering doctor touched his patient’s +forehead, looked at him keenly, felt his pulse with +practised finger, and replied: +</p> +<p>“I’ve been thinking you’d get to this spot pretty +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span> +soon. Some beef tea, nurse, and make it good and +strong. We’ve got to get this fellow on his feet +pretty quick for I can see he’s about done lying +in bed.” +</p> +<p>Then the wounds came in for attention, and +Ruth stood bravely and watched, quivering in her +heart over the sight, yet never flinching in her outward +calm. +</p> +<p>When the dressing of the wounds was over the +doctor stood back and surveyed his patient: +</p> +<p>“Well, you’re in pretty good shape now, and if +you keep on you can leave here in about a week. +Thank fortune there isn’t any more front to go back +to! But now, if you don’t mind I’d like to know +what’s made this marvellous change in you?” +</p> +<p>The light broke out on Cameron’s face anew. +He looked at the doctor smiling, and then he looked +at Ruth, and reached out his hand to get hers: +</p> +<p>“You see,” he said, “I—we—Miss Macdonald’s +from my home town and——” +</p> +<p>“I see,” said the doctor looking quizzically from +one happy face to the other, “but hasn’t she always +been from your home town?” +</p> +<p>Cameron twinkled with his old Irish grin: +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span></p> +<p>“Always,” he said solemnly, “but, you see, she +hasn’t always been here.” +</p> +<p>“I see,” said the doctor again looking quizzically +into the sweet face of the girl, and doing reverence +to her pure beauty with his gaze. “I congratulate +you, corporal,” he said, and then turning to +Ruth he said earnestly: “And you, too, Madame. +He is a man if there ever was one.” +</p> +<p>In the quiet evening when the wards were put to +sleep and Ruth sat beside his cot with her hand +softly in his, Cameron opened his eyes from the nap +he was supposed to be taking and looked at her +with his bright smile. +</p> +<p>“I haven’t told you the news,” he said softly. +“I have found God. I found Him out on the battlefield +and He is great! It’s all true! But you have +to search for Him with <i>all</i> your heart, and not let +any little old hate or anything else hinder you, or +it doesn’t do any good.” +</p> +<p>Ruth, with her eyes shining, touched her lips +softly to the back of his bandaged hand that lay +near her and whispered softly: +</p> +<p>“I have found Him, too, dear. And I realize +that He has been close beside me all the time, only +<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +my heart was so full of myself that I never saw Him +before. But, oh, hasn’t He been wonderful to us, +and won’t we have a beautiful time living for Him +together the rest of our lives?” +</p> +<p>Then the bandaged hand went out and folded +her close, and Cameron uttered his assent in words +too sacred for other ears to hear. +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SEARCH***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 25866-h.txt or 25866-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/6/25866">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/8/6/25866</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>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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