diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-8.txt | 14891 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-8.zip | bin | 0 -> 282358 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 1856669 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/29726-h.htm | 15179 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-028.jpg | bin | 0 -> 37538 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-114.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32723 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-180.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34517 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-304.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35991 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-340.jpg | bin | 0 -> 36055 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-466.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31611 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-496.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38711 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad01.jpg | bin | 0 -> 7894 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68634 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad03.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68889 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad04.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74224 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad05.jpg | bin | 0 -> 67258 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad06.jpg | bin | 0 -> 75655 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad07.jpg | bin | 0 -> 59260 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad08.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63554 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad09.jpg | bin | 0 -> 66904 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad10.jpg | bin | 0 -> 64901 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad11.jpg | bin | 0 -> 64325 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad12.jpg | bin | 0 -> 62919 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad13.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60708 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad14.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63115 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad15.jpg | bin | 0 -> 58781 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad16.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52067 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad17.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76385 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad18.jpg | bin | 0 -> 71345 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad19.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63924 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-ad20.jpg | bin | 0 -> 70499 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg | bin | 0 -> 43317 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726-h/images/illus-tpg.png | bin | 0 -> 37545 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726.txt | 14891 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 29726.zip | bin | 0 -> 282221 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
38 files changed, 44977 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/29726-8.txt b/29726-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..50e5382 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14891 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Strollers + +Author: Frederic S. Isham + +Illustrator: Harrison Fisher + +Release Date: August 19, 2009 [EBook #29726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE STROLLERS + +By FREDERIC S. ISHAM + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +HARRISON FISHER + +INDIANAPOLIS + +THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright 1902 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company + +March + +PRESS OF + +BRAUNWORTH & CO. + +BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS + +BROOKLYN, N. Y. + + + + +THE STROLLERS + + + + +CONTENTS + + PROLOGUE PAGE + THE MARQUIS' HONEYMOON 3 + +BOOK I + +ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS + + CHAPTER + I THE TRAVELERS' FRIEND 11 + II A NEW ARRIVAL 33 + III AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE 48 + IV "GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!" 59 + V A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN 72 + VI THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT 80 + VII SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA 87 + VIII FLIPPING THE SHILLING 99 + IX SAMPLING THE VINTAGES 111 + X SEALING THE COMPACT 122 + XI THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER 136 + XII AN ECCENTRIC JAILER 144 + XIII THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER 156 + XIV THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR 172 + XV A HASTY EXIT 178 + XVI THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP 190 + XVII THE HAND FERRY 203 + +BOOK II + +DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES + + CHAPTER + I THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS 211 + II "ONLY AN INCIDENT" 224 + III AT THE RACES 232 + IV LEAR AND JULIET 250 + V THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS 266 + VI A BLOT IN THE 'SCUTCHEON 275 + VII A CYNICAL BARD 287 + VIII THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE 308 + IX A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY 321 + X LAUGHTER AND TEARS 333 + XI THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN 342 + XII IN THE OLD CEMETERY 360 + XIII AN INCONGRUOUS RÔLE 370 + +BOOK III + +THE FINAL CUE + + CHAPTER + I OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD 387 + II ONLY A SHADOW 399 + III FROM GARRET TO GARDEN 412 + IV "THE BEST OF LIFE" 420 + V THE LAWYER'S TIDINGS 428 + VI THE COUNCIL OF WAR 436 + VII A MEETING ON THE MOUNT 450 + VIII A FAIR PENITENT 464 + IX "COMUS' MISTICK WITCHERIES" 476 + X CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER 488 + + + + +PROLOGUE + + + + +THE MARQUIS' HONEYMOON + + +Old Drury Lane rang with applause for the performance of Madame Carew. +Of British-French parentage, she was a recognized peer among the +favorite actresses on the English stage and a woman whose attractions +of face and manner were of a high order. She came naturally by her +talents, being a descendant of Madame de Panilnac, famed as an +actress, confidante of Louise-Benedicte, Duchess du Maine, who +originated the celebrated _nuits blanches_ at Sceaux during the close +of Louis XIV's reign. + +The bill for the evening under consideration was "Adrienne Lecouvreur" +and in no part had the actress been more natural and effective. Her +triumph was secure, for as the prologue says: + + "Your judgment given--your sentence must remain; + No writ of error lies--to Drury Lane." + +She was the talk of the day and her praises or deficiencies were +discussed by the scandal-carriers of the town; the worn-out dowagers, +the superannuated maidens, the "tabernacle gallants," the male members +of the tea tables and all the coxcombs, sparks and beaux who haunted +the stage door. + +The player had every stimulus to appear at her best on this particular +evening, for the audience, frivolous, volatile, taking its character +from the loose, weak king, was unusually complaisant through the +presence of the first gentleman of Europe. As the last of the Georges +declared himself in good-humor, so every toady grinned and every +courtly flunkey swore in the Billingsgate of that profanely eloquent +period that the actress was a "monstrous fine woman." + +With rare discretion and spirit had the latter played, a queenly +figure in that ribald, gross gathering. She had reached the scene +where the actress turns upon her tormentors, those noble ladies of +rank and position, and launches the curse of a soul lashed beyond +endurance. Sweeping forward to confront her adversaries, about to face +them, her troubled glance chanced to fall into one of the side boxes +where were seated a certain foreign marquis, somewhat notorious, and a +lady of insolent, patrician bearing. The anticipated action was +arrested, for at sight of the nobleman and his companion, Adrienne +swayed slightly, as though moved by a new overpowering emotion. Only +for a moment she hesitated, then fixing her blazing eyes upon the two +and lifting her arm threateningly, the bitter words flowed from her +lips with an earnestness that thrilled the audience. A pallor +overspread the face of the marquis, while the lady drew back behind +the draperies, almost as if in fear. At the conclusion of that effort +the walls echoed with plaudits; the actress stood as in a trance; her +face was pale, her figure seemed changed to stone and the light went +out of her eyes. + +She fainted and fell and the curtain descended quickly. The woman by +the marquis' side, who had trembled at first, now forced a laugh, as +she said: "The trollop can curse! Let us go." Together they left the +box, the marquis regretting the temerity which had led him to bring +his companion to the theater. He, too, was secretly unnerved, and, +when they entered the carriage, they seated themselves as far apart as +possible, the marquis detesting the lady and she for her part +disliking him just as cordially. + +Next day the critics referred to the scene with glowing words, while +in the coffee houses they discussed the proposition: Should an actress +feel the emotion she portrays? With a cynical smile the marquis read +the different accounts of the performance, when he and his companion +found themselves in the old stage coach _en route_ for Brighton. He +felt no regret for his action--had not the Prince of Wales taught the +gentlemen of his kingdom that it was fashionable to desert actresses? +Had he not left the "divine Perdita" to languish, after snubbing her +right royally in Hyde Park? + +Disdainfully the lady in the coach regarded her husband and it +was evident that the ties of affection which bound these two +travelers together on life's road were neither strong nor enduring. +Yet they were traveling together; their way was the same; their +destination--but that belongs to the future. The marquis had been +relieved in his mind after a consultation with a distinguished +barrister, and, moreover, was pleased at the prospect of leaving +this island of fogs for the sunny shores of France. The times +were exciting; the country, on the verge of proposed electoral +reforms. But in France the new social system had sprung into +existence and--lamentable fact!--duty towards one's country had +assumed an empire superior to ancient devotion toward kings. + +To stem this tide and attach himself closely to King Charles X was the +marquis' ambitious purpose. For this he had espoused a party in +marrying a relative of the royal princess, thus enhancing the ties +that bound him to the throne, and throwing to the winds _his_ Perdita +whose charms had once held him in folly's chains. Did he regret the +step? Has ravening aspiration any compunction; any contrite visitings +of nature? What did the player expect; that he would violate +precedence; overthrow the fashionable maxims of good George IV; become +a slave to a tragi-comic performer and cast his high destiny to the +winds? Had ever a gentleman entertained such a project? Vows? Witness +the agreeable perjuries of lovers; the pleasing pastime of fond +hearts! Every titled rascallion lied to his mistress; every noble +blackguard professed to be a Darby for constancy and was a Jonathan +Wild by instinct. If her ideals were raised so high, the worse for +her; if a farce of a ceremony was regarded as tying an indissoluble +knot--let her take example by the lady who thought herself the king's +spouse; pish! there are ceremonies and ceremonies, and wives and +wives; those of the hedge-concealed cottage and those of palace and +chateau! + +As the coach sped over the road, the lady by his side smiled +disagreeably from time to time, and my lord, when he became aware of +it, winced beneath her glance. Had she fathomed his secret? Else why +that eminently superior air; that manner which said as plainly as +spoken words: "Now I have learned what to do if he should play the +tyrant. Now I see a way to liberty, equality, fraternity!" And beneath +the baneful gleam of that look of enlightenment, my lord cursed under +his breath roundly. The only imperturbable person of the party was +François, the marquis' valet, whose impassive countenance was that of +a stoic, apathetic to the foibles of his betters; a philosopher of the +wardrobe, to whom a wig awry or a loosened buckle seemed of more +moment than the derangement of the marriage tie or the disorder of +conjugal affection. + +Not long thereafter the player left for America, where she procured an +engagement in New York City, and, so far as London was concerned, she +might have found rest and retiredness in the waters of Lethe. Of her +reception in the old New York Theater; the verdict of the phalanx of +critics assembled in the Shakespeare box which, according to +tradition, held more than two hundred souls; the gossip over +confections or tea in the coffee room of the theater--it is +unnecessary to dwell upon. But had not the player become a voluntary +exile; had she not foregone her former life for the new; had she not +found that joy sometimes begets the bitterest grief, there would have +been no occasion for this chronicle. + + + + +BOOK I + +ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAVELERS' FRIEND + + +It was a drizzly day in the Shadengo Valley. A mist had settled down +upon the old inn; lost to view was the landscape with its varied +foliage. Only the immediate foreground was visible to a teamster who +came down the road--the trees with dripping branches, and the inn from +the eaves of which water fell to the ground with depressing monotony; +the well with its pail for watering the horses and the log trough in +whose limpid waters a number of speckled trout were swimming. The +driver drew up his horses before the Travelers' Friend--as the place +was named--and called out imperatively: + +"Hullo there!" + +No one appearing, he leaned over and impatiently rapped on the door +with the heavy oak butt-end of his whip. Still there was no response. +Again he knocked, this time louder than before, and was preparing for +an even more vigorous assault upon the unhospitable entrance, when the +door swung back and the landlord, a tall, gaunt individual, confronted +the driver. + +"Well, I heard ye," he said testily. "Are ye coming in or shall I +bring it out?" + +"Bring it out," was the gruff response of the disgruntled teamster. + +Shortly afterwards mine host reappeared with a tankard of generous +dimensions. The teamster raised it; slowly drained it to the bottom; +dropped a coin into the landlord's hand; cracked his whip in a lively +manner and moved on. The steam from his horses mingled with the mist +and he was soon swallowed up, although the cheerful snap of his whip +could yet be heard. Then that became inaudible and the boniface who +had stood for a brief space in the doorway, empty tankard in hand, +re-entered the house satisfied that no more transient patronage would +be forthcoming at present. + +Going through an outer room, called by courtesy a parlor, the landlord +passed into an apartment which served as dining-room, sitting-room and +bar. Here the glow of a wood fire from the well swept hearth and the +aspect of the varied assortment of bottles, glasses and tankards, gave +more proof of the fitness of the appellation on the creaking sign of +the road-house than appeared from a superficial survey of its exterior +and far from neat stable yard, or from that chilly, forbidding room, +so common especially in American residences in those days, the parlor. +Any doubt regarding the contents of the hospitable looking bottles was +dispelled by such prominent inscriptions in gilt letters as "Whisky," +"Brandy" and "Rum." To add to the effect, between the decanters were +ranged glass jars of striped peppermint and winter-green candies, +while a few lemons suggested pleasing possibilities of a hot sling, +spiced rum flip or Tom and Jerry. The ceiling of this dining-room was +blackened somewhat and the huge beams overhead gave an idea of the +substantial character of the construction of the place. That fuel was +plentiful, appeared in evidence in the open fireplace where were +burning two great logs, while piled up against the wall were many +other good-sized sections of hickory. + +Seated at a respectful distance from this cheerful conflagration was a +young man of perhaps five-and-twenty, whose travel-stained attire +indicated he had but recently been on the road. Upon a chair near by +were a riding-whip and hat, the latter spotted with mud and testifying +to the rough character of the road over which he had come. He held a +short pipe to his lips and blew clouds of smoke toward the fire, while +upon a table, within arm's length, rested a glass of some hot mixture. +But in spite of his comfortable surroundings, the expression of his +face was not that of a person in harmony with the Johnsonian +conclusion, "A chair in an inn is a throne of felicity." His +countenance, well bronzed as a weather-tried trooper's, was harsh, +gloomy, almost morose; not an unhandsome face, but set in such a +severe cast the observer involuntarily wondered what experience had +indited that scroll. Tall, large of limb, muscular, as was apparent +even in a restful pose, he looked an athlete of the most approved +type, active and powerful. + +Mine host, having found his guest taciturn, had himself become genial, +and now remarked as he entered: "How do you find the punch? Is it to +your liking?" + +"Yes," shortly answered the stranger, without raising his eyes from a +moody regard of the fire. + +"You're from France, I guess?" continued the landlord, as he seated +himself on the opposite side of the fireplace. "Been here long? Where +you going?" Without waiting for an answer to his first question he +exercised his time-honored privilege of demanding any and all +information from wayfarers at the Travelers' Friend. + +"I say, where you going?" he repeated, turning over a log and sending +a shower of sparks up the flue. + +With no change of countenance the guest silently reached for his +punch, swallowed a portion of it, replaced the glass on the table and +resumed his smoking as though oblivious of the other's presence. +Momentarily disconcerted, the landlord devoted himself once more to +the fire. After readjusting a trunk of old hickory on the great +andirons and gazing absently for a moment at the huge crane supporting +an iron kettle of boiling water, mine host tipped back in his chair, +braced his feet against the wall, lighted a vile-smelling pipe and +again returned valiantly to the attack, resolved to learn more about +his guest. + +"I hear things are kind of onsettled in France?" he observed +diplomatically, emitting a cloud of smoke. "I see in a Syracuse paper +that Louis Philippe is no longer king; that he and the queen have fled +to England. Perhaps, now,"--inwardly congratulating himself on his +shrewdness--"you left Paris for political reasons?" + +The stranger deliberately emptied his pipe and thrust it into his +pocket, while the landlord impatiently awaited the response to his +pointed query. When it came, however, it was not calculated to allay +the curiosity of his questioner. + +"Is it your practice," said the young man coldly, in slow but +excellent English, "to bark continuously at the heels of your +guests?" + +"Oh, no offense meant! No offense! Hope none'll be taken," stammered +the landlord. + +Then he recovered himself and his dignity by drawing forth a huge +wine-colored silk handkerchief, set with white polka-dots, and +ostentatiously and vigorously using it. This ear-splitting operation +having once more set him up in his own esteem, he resumed his +attentions to the stranger. + +"I didn't know," he added with an outburst of honesty, "but what you +might be some nobleman in disguise." + +"A nobleman!" said the other with ill-concealed contempt. "My name is +Saint-Prosper; plain Ernest Saint-Prosper. I was a soldier. Now I'm an +adventurer. There you have it all in a nut-shell." + +The inn-keeper surveyed his guest's figure with undisguised +admiration. + +"Well, you look like a soldier," he remarked. "You are like one +of those soldiers who came over from France to help us in the +Revolution." + +This tribute being silently accepted, the landlord grew voluble as his +guest continued reserved. + +"We have our own troubles with lords, too, right here in New York +State," he said confidentially. "We have our land barons, descendants +of the patroons and holders of thousands of acres. And we have our +bolters, too, who are making a big stand against feudalism." + +Thereupon he proceeded to present the subject in all its details to +the soldier; how the tenants were protesting against the enforcement +of what they now deemed unjust claims and were demanding the abolition +of permanent leaseholds; how they openly resisted the collection of +rents and had inaugurated an aggressive anti-rent war against +tyrannical landlordism. His lengthy and rambling dissertation was +finally broken in upon by a rumbling on the road, as of carriage +wheels drawing near, and the sound of voices. The noise sent the +boniface to the window, and, looking out, he discovered a lumbering +coach, drawn by two heavy horses, which came dashing up with a great +semblance of animation for a vehicle of its weight, followed by a +wagon, loaded with diversified and gaudy paraphernalia. + +"Some troopers, I guess," commented the landlord in a tone which +indicated the coming of these guests was not entirely welcome to him. +"Yes," he added, discontentedly, "they're stage-folk, sure enough." + +The wagon, which contained several persons, was driven into the stable +yard, where it was unloaded of "drops" and "wings," representing a +street, a forest, a prison, and so on, while the stage coach, with a +rattle and a jerk, and a final flourish of the driver's whip, stopped +at the front door. Springing to the ground, the driver opened the door +of the vehicle, and at the same time two other men, with their heads +muffled against the wind and rain, leisurely descended from the top. +The landlord now stood at the entrance of the inn, a sour expression +on his face. Certainly, if the travelers had expected in him the +traditional glowing countenance, with the apostolic injunction to "use +hospitality without grudging" writ upon it, they were doomed to +disappointment. + +A rustle of skirts, and there emerged from the interior of the coach, +first, a little, dried-up old lady whose feet were enclosed in +prunella boots, with Indian embroidered moccasins for outside +protection; second, a young woman who hastily made her way into the +hostelry, displaying a trim pair of ankles; third, a lady resembling +the second and who the landlord afterwards learned was her sister; +fourth, a graceful girl above medium height, wearing one of those +provoking, quilted silk hoods of the day, with cherry-colored lining, +known as "Kiss-me-if-you-dare" hoods. + +Then followed a dark melancholy individual, the utility man, whose +waistcoat of figured worsted was much frayed and whose "tooth-pick" +collar was the worse for the journey. He preceded a more natty person +in a bottle-green, "shad-belly" coat, who strove to carry himself as +though he were fashionably dressed, instead of wearing clothes which +no longer could conceal their shabbiness. The driver, called in +theatrical parlance "the old man," was a portly personage in a blue +coat with velvet collar and gilt buttons, a few of which were missing; +while the ruffles of his shirt were in sad plight, for instead of +protruding elegantly a good three or even four inches, their glory had +gone and they lay ignominiously flattened upon the bosom of the +wearer. A white choker rivaled in hue the tooth-pick collar of the +melancholy individual. + +The tavern's stable boy immediately began to remove the trunks into +the main hallway. This overgrown, husky lad evidently did not share +his employer's disapproval of the guests, for he gazed in open-eyed +wonder at the sisters, and then, with increasing awe, his glance +strayed to the young girl. To his juvenile imagination an actress +appeared in the glamour of a veritable goddess. But she had obviously +that tender consideration for others which belongs to humanity, for +she turned to the old man with an affectionate smile, removing from +his shoulders the wet Petersham overcoat, and, placing it on a chair, +regarded him with a look of filial anxiety. Yet their appearance +belied the assumption of such relationship; he was hearty, florid and +sturdy, of English type, while she seemed a daughter of the South, a +figure more fitting for groves of orange and cypress, than for this +rugged northern wilderness. + +The emotion of the stable boy as he gazed at her, and the forbidding +mood of the landlord were broken in upon by the tiny old lady, who, in +a large voice, remarked: + +"A haven at last! Are you the landlord?" + +"Yes, ma'am," testily replied that person. + +"I am pleased to meet you, sir," exclaimed the melancholy individual, +as he extended a hand so cold and clammy that shivers ran up and down +the back of the host when he took it gingerly. "We are having fine +tragedy weather, sir!" + +"A fire at once, landlord!" commanded the would-be beau. + +"Refreshments will be in order!" exclaimed she of the trim ankles. + +"And show me the best room in the house," remarked her sister. + +Mine host, bewildered by this shower of requests, stared from one to +the other in helpless confusion, but finally collected his wits +sufficiently to usher the company into the tap-room with: + +"Here you'll find a fire, but as for the best room, this +gentleman"--indicating the reticent guest--"already occupies it." + +The young man at the fire, thus forced prominently into notice, arose +slowly. + +"You are mistaken, landlord," he said curtly, hardly glancing at the +players. "I no longer occupy it since these ladies have come." + +"Your complaisance does credit to your good nature, sir," exclaimed +the old man. "But we can not take advantage of it." + +"It is too good of you," remarked the elder sister with a glance +replete with more gratitude than the occasion demanded. "Really, +though, we could not think of it." + +"Thank you; thank you," joined in the wiry old lady, bobbing up and +down like a miniature figure moved by the unseen hand of the showman. +"Allow me, sir!" And she gravely tendered him a huge snuff-box of +tortoise shell, which he declined; whereupon she continued: + +"You do not use it? New fashions; new habits! Though whether for the +better is not for me to say." + +She helped herself to a liberal portion and passed the box to the +portly old gentleman. Here the landlord, in a surly tone, told the +stable boy to remove the gentleman's things and show the ladies to +their rooms. Before going, the girl in the provoking hood--now +unfastened, and freeing sundry rebellious brown curls where the +moisture yet sparkled like dew--turned to the old man: + +"You are coming up directly? Your stock wants changing, while your +ruffles"--laughing--"are disgraceful!" + +"Presently, my dear; presently!" he returned. + +The members of the company mounted the broad stairway, save the driver +of the coach--he of the disordered ruffles--who wiped his heavy boots +on a door mat and made his way to the fire, where he stood in English +fashion with his coat-tails under his arms, rubbing his hands and +drying himself before the flames. + +"A disagreeable time of year, sir," he observed to the soldier, who +had returned to his seat before the table. "Twice on the road we +nearly broke down, and once the wagon dumped our properties in the +ditch. Meanwhile, to make matters worse, the ladies heaped reproaches +upon these gray hairs. This, sir, to the man who was considered one of +the best whips in old Devonshire county." + +The other did not answer immediately, but regarded the speaker with +the look of one not readily disposed to make acquaintances. His +conclusions were apparently satisfactory, however, for he presently +vouchsafed the remark: + +"You are the manager, I presume?" + +"I enjoy that honor," returned the loquacious stranger. "But my duties +are manifold. As driver of the chariot, I endure the constant +apprehension of wrecking my company by the wayside. As assistant +carpenter, when we can not find a stage it is my task to erect one. As +bill-poster and license-procurer, treasurer and stage manager, my time +is not so taken up, sir, as to preclude my going on and assuming a +character." + +"A life of variety," observed the young man, politely if indifferently. + +"Yes; full of ups and downs, as the driver of the property wagon said +when we entered this hilly district," replied the manager, with the +contentment of a man who has found a snug haven after a hard ride in a +comparatively unbroken country. "Affluence we may know, but poverty is +apt to be our companion." + +To this the other deemed no response necessary and a silence fell +between them, broken only by the simmering water in the iron kettle, +the sputtering of the sap in the burning logs and the creaking without +of the long balancing pole that suspended the moss-covered bucket. The +wind sighed in the chimney and the wooing flames sprang to meet it, +while the heart of the fire glowed in a mass of coals between the +andirons. + +The old gentleman before the blaze began to outrival the kettle in +steaming; from his coat-tails a thin veil of mist ascended, his face +beaming through the vapor with benign felicity. Then he turned and +toasted the other side and the kettle reigned supreme until he thawed +once more and the clouds ascended, surrounding him like Jupiter on the +celestial mount. At that the kettle hummed more angrily and the old +gentleman's face beamed with satisfaction. + +"A snug company, sir," he said, finally, glowing upon the impassive +face before him, "like a tight ship, can weather a little bad weather. +Perhaps you noticed our troupe? The old lady is Mrs. Adams. She is +nearly seventy, but can dance a horn-pipe or a reel with the best of +them. The two sisters are Kate and Susan Duran, both coquettes of the +first water. Our juvenile man is a young Irishman who thinks much of +his dress and little of the cultivation of mind and manners. Then," +added the old man tenderly, "there is my Constance." + +He paused abruptly. "Landlord, a pot of ale. My throat is hoarse from +the mist. Fancy being for hours on a road not knowing where you are! +Your good-fortune, sir!" Lifting the mug. "More than once we lurched +like a cockle-shell." + +The conversation at this point was interrupted by the appearance of +the juvenile man. + +"Mr. Barnes, the ladies desire your company immediately." + +The manager hurriedly left the room and the newcomer regarded his +retiring figure with a twinkle in his eye. Then he took a turn around +the room in stilted fashion--like one who "carried about with him his +pits, boxes and galleries"--and observed: + +"Faith, Mr. Barnes' couch is not a bed of roses. It is better to have +the fair ones dangling after you, than to be running at their every +beck and call." + +Here he twisted his mustache upward. + +"A woman is a strange creature," he resumed. "If she calls and you +come once, your legs will be busy for the rest of your natural days." + +He seemed about to continue his observations along this philosophical +line, when the manager appeared in much perturbation, approaching the +landlord, who, at the same time, had entered the room from the +kitchen. + +"The ladies insist that their sheets are damp," began the manager in +his most plausible manner. + +A dangerous light appeared in the other's eyes. + +"It's the weather, you understand. Not your fault; bless you, no!" + +The landlord's face became a shade less acrimonious. + +"Now, if there was a fire in the room--it is such a comfortable, +cheery room--" + +"Sandy!" interrupted the host, calling to the long-armed, red-handed +stable boy, who thrust a shock of hair through the kitchen door. +"Build a fire upstairs." + +Mr. Barnes heaved a sigh of relief and drawing a chair to the blaze +prepared once more to enjoy a well-earned rest. + +By this time the shadows had begun to lengthen in the room as the +first traces of early twilight filled the valley. The gurgling still +continued down the water pipe; the old sign before the front door +moaned monotonously. An occasional gust of wind, which mysteriously +penetrated the mist without sweeping it aside, rattled the windows and +waved wildly in mid-air a venturesome rose which had clambered to the +second story of the old inn. The barn-yard appeared even more dismal +because of the coming darkness and the hens presented a pathetic +picture of discomfort as they tucked their heads under their wet +feathers for the night, while his lordship, the rooster, was but a +sorry figure upon his high perch, with the moisture regularly and +unceasingly dripping through the roof of the hen-house upon his +unprotected back. + +An aroma from the kitchen which penetrated the room seemed especially +grateful to the manager who smiled with satisfaction as he conjured up +visions of the forthcoming repast. By his Falstaffian girth, he +appeared a man not averse to good living, nor one to deny himself +plentiful libations of American home-brewed ale. + +"Next to actual dining," observed this past-master in the art, "are +the anticipations of the table. The pleasure consists in speculation +regarding this or that aroma, in classifying the viands and separating +this combination of culinary odors into courses of which you will in +due time partake. Alas for the poor stroller when the tavern ceases to +be! Already it is almost extinct on account of the Erie Canal. Only a +short time ago this room would have been crowded with teamsters of the +broad-tired Pennsylvania wagons, drawn by six or eight horses." + +Again the appetizing aroma from the kitchen turned the current of his +reflections into its original channel, for he concluded with: "An +excellent dinner is in progress, if my diagnosis of these penetrating +fragrances be correct." + +And it was soon demonstrated that the manager's discernment was not in +error. There was not only abundance but quality, and the landlord's +daughter waited on the guests, thereby subjecting herself to the very +open advances of the Celtic Adonis. The large table was laden with +heavy crockery, old-fashioned and quaint; an enormous rotary castor +occupied the center of the table, while the forks and spoons were--an +unusual circumstance!--of silver. + +When the company had seated themselves around the board the waitress +brought in a sucking pig, done to a turn, well stuffed, and with an +apple in its mouth. The manager heaved a sigh. + +"The lovely little monster," said Kate, admiringly. + +"Monster!" cried Susan. "Say cherub!" + +"So young and tender for such a fate!" exclaimed Hawkes, the +melancholy individual, with knife and fork held in mid-air. + +"But worthy of the bearer of the dish!" remarked Adonis, so pointedly +that the landlord's daughter, overwhelmed with confusion, nearly +dropped the platter, miniature porker and all. Whereupon Kate cast an +angry glance at the offender whom "she could not abide," yet regarded +in a certain proprietary way, and Adonis henceforth became less open +in his advances. + +Those other aromas which the manager had mentally classified took form +and substance and were arranged in tempting variety around the +appetizing and well-browned suckling. There were boiled and baked +hams, speckled with cloves, plates of doughnuts and pound cake, beet +root and apple sauce. Before each of the guests stood a foaming mug +of home-brewed ale that carried with it a palpable taste of the hops. + +"There is nothing of the stage repast about this," commented the +manager. + +To which Kate, having often partaken of the conventional banquet of +the theater, waved her hand in a serio-comic manner toward the _pièce +de résistance_ and observed: + +"Suppose, now, by some necromancy our young and tender friend here on +the platter should be changed to a cleverly fashioned block of wood, +painted in imitation of a roasted porker, with a wooden apple in his +mouth?" + +The manager, poising the carving knife, replied: + +"Your suggestion is startling. We will obviate the possibility of any +such transformation." + +And he cut the "ambrosian fat and lean" with a firm hand, eying the +suckling steadfastly the while as if to preclude any exhibition of +Hindoo mysticism, while the buxom lass, the daughter of the boniface, +with round arms bared, bore sundry other dishes from place to place +until the plates were heaped with an assortment of viands. + +"Well, my dear, how are you getting on?" said the manager to the young +actress, Constance, as he helped himself to the crackle. "Have you +everything you want?" + +She nodded brightly, and the stranger who was seated some distance +from her glanced up; his gaze rested on her for a moment and then +returned in cold contemplation to the fare set before him. + +Yet was she worthy of more than passing scrutiny. The gleam of the +lamp fell upon her well-turned figure and the glistening of her eyes +could be seen in the shadow that rested on her brow beneath the crown +of hair. She wore a dark lavender dress, striped with silk, a small +"jacquette," after the style of the day, the sleeves being finished +with lace and the skirt full and flowing. Her heavy brown tresses were +arranged in a coiffure in the fashion then prevailing, a portion of +the hair falling in curls on the neck, the remainder brought forward +in plaits and fastened at the top of the forehead with a simple pearl +ornament. + +If the young girl felt any interest in the presence of the taciturn +guest she concealed it, scarcely looking at him and joining but rarely +in the conversation. Susan, on the other hand, resorted to sundry +coquetries. + +"I fear, sir, that you find our poor company intrusive, since we have +forced you to become one of us?" she said, toying with her fork, and +thereby displaying a white and shapely hand. + +His impassive blue eyes met her sparkling ones. + +"I am honored in being admitted to your fellowship," he returned +perfunctorily. + +"Only poor players, sir!" exclaimed Hawkes deprecatingly, with the +regal gesture a stage monarch might use in setting forth the +perplexities of royal pre-eminence. + +[Illustration] + +"The landlord does not seem to share your opinion?" continued Susan, +looking once more at the stranger. + +"As a host he believes in brave deeds, not fair words," said Kate, +indicating the remains of the repast. + +"Peace to his bones!" exclaimed the manager, extending a hand over the +remnants of the suckling. + +Here the dark-haired girl arose, the dinner being concluded. There was +none of his usual brusqueness of manner, as the manager, leaning back +in his chair and taking her hand, said: + +"You are going to retire, my dear? That is right. We have had a hard +day's traveling." + +She bent her head, and her lips pressed softly the old man's cheek, +after which she turned from the rest of the company with a grave bow. +But as she passed through the doorway her flowing gown caught upon a +nail in the wall. Pre-occupied though he seemed, her low exclamation +did not escape the ear of the stranger, and, quitting his place, he +knelt at her feet, and she, with half turned head and figure +gracefully poised, looked down upon him. + +With awkward fingers, he released the dress, and she bowed her +acknowledgment, which he returned with formal deference. Then she +passed on and he raised his head, his glance following her through the +bleak-looking hall, up the broad, ill-lighted staircase, into the +mysterious shadows which prevailed above. + +Shortly afterward the tired company dispersed, and the soldier also +sought his room. There he found the landlord's daughter before him +with the warming-pan. She had spread open the sheets of his bed and +was applying the old-fashioned contrivance for the prevention of +rheumatism, but it was evident her mind was not on this commendable +housewifely task, for she sighed softly and then observed: + +"It must be lovely to be an actress!" + +Dreamily she patted the pillows, until they were round and smooth, and +absently adjusted the bed, until there was not a wrinkle in the +snow-white counterpane, after which, like a good private in domestic +service, she shouldered the warming pan with its long handle, murmured +"good-night" and departed, not to dream of milking, churning or +cheese-making, but of a balcony and of taking poison in a tomb. + +Absently the stranger gazed at the books on the table: "Nutting's +Grammar," "Adams' Arithmetic," "David's Tears" and the "New England +Primer and Catechism"--all useful books undoubtedly, but not +calculated long to engross the attention of the traveler. Turning from +these prosaic volumes, the occupant of the chamber drew aside the +curtain of the window and looked out. + +Now the mists were swept away; the stars were shining and the gurgling +had grown fainter in the pipes that descended from the roof to the +ground. Not far was the dark fringe which marked the forest and the +liquid note of a whippoorwill arose out of the solitary depths, a +melancholy tone in the stillness of the night. The little owl, too, +was heard, his note now sounding like the filing of a saw and again +changing in character to the tinkling of a bell. A dog howled for a +moment in the barn-yard, and then, apparently satisfied with having +given this evidence of watchfulness, re-entered his house of one room +and curled himself upon the straw in his parlor, after which nothing +more was heard from him. + +Drawing the curtains of his own couch, a large, four-posted affair, +sleep soon overpowered the stranger; but sleep, broken and fitful! Nor +did he dream only of France and of kings running away, of American +land barons and of "bolters." More intrusive than these, the faces of +the strollers crept in and disturbed his slumbers, not least among +which were the features of the dark-eyed girl whose gown had caught as +she passed through the doorway. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A NEW ARRIVAL + + +The crowing of the cock awakened the French traveler, and, going to +the window, he saw that daylight had thrown its first shafts upon the +unromantic barn-yard scene, while in the east above the hill-tops +spread the early flush of morning. The watch-dog had left his +one-roomed cottage and was promenading before it in stately fashion +with all the pomp of a satisfied land-holder, his great undershot jaw +and the extraordinary outward curve of his legs proclaiming an +untarnished pedigree. The hens were happily engaged in scratching the +earth for their breakfast; the rooster, no longer crestfallen, was +strutting in the sunshine, while next to the barn several grunting, +squealing pigs struggled for supremacy in the trough. From the +cow-shed came an occasional low and soon a slip-shod maid, yawning +mightily, appeared, pail in hand, and moved across the yard to her +early morning task. + +Descending the stairs and making his way to the barn, the soldier +called to Sandy, the stable boy, who was performing his ablutions by +passing wet fingers through a shock of red hair, to saddle his horse. +The sleepy lad led forth a large but shapely animal, and soon the +stranger was galloping across the country, away from the village, now +down a gentle declivity, with the virgin forest on either side, then +through a tract of land where was apparent the husbandry of the +people. + +After a brisk pace for some miles, he reined in his horse, and, +leisurely riding in a circuit, returned on the road that crossed the +farming country back of the tavern. Around him lay fields of rye and +buckwheat sweet with the odor of the bee-hive; Indian corn, whose +silken tassels waved as high as those of Frederick's grenadiers', and +yellow pumpkins nestling to the ground like gluttons that had partaken +too abundantly of mother earth's nourishment. Intermingling with these +great oblong and ovoid gourds, squashes, shaped like turbans and +many-cornered hats, appeared in fantastic profusion. + +The rider was rapidly approaching the inn, when a sudden turn in the +highway, as the road swept around a wind-break of willows, brought him +upon a young woman who was walking slowly in the same direction. So +fast was the pace of his horse, and so unexpected the meeting, she was +almost under the trampling feet before he saw her. Taken by surprise, +she stood as if transfixed, when, with a quick, decisive effort, the +rider swerved his animal, and, of necessity, rode full tilt at the +fence and willows. She felt the rush of air; saw the powerful animal +lift itself, clear the rail-fence and crash through the bulwark of +branches. She gazed at the wind-break; a little to the right, or the +left, where the heavy boughs were thickly interlaced, and the rider's +expedient had proved serious for himself, but chance--he had no time +for choice--had directed him to a vulnerable point of leaves and +twigs. Before she had fairly recovered herself he reappeared at an +opening on the other side of the willow-screen, and, after removing a +number of rails, led his horse back to the road. + +With quivering nostrils, the animal appeared possessed of unquenchable +spirit, but his master's bearing was less assured as he approached, +with an expression of mingled anxiety and concern on his face, the +young girl whom the manager had addressed as Constance. + +"I beg your pardon for having alarmed you!" he said. "It was careless, +inexcusable!" + +"It was a little startling," she admitted, with a faint smile. + +"Only a little!" he broke in gravely. "If I had not seen you just when +I did--" + +"You would not have turned your horse--at such a risk to yourself!" +she added. + +"Risk to myself! From what?" A whimsical light encroached on the set +look in his blue eyes. "Jumping a rail fence? But you have not yet +said you have pardoned me?" + +The smile brightened. "Oh, I think you deserve that." + +"I am not so sure," he returned, glancing down at her. + +Slanting between the lower branches of the trees the sunshine touched +the young girl's hair in flickering spots and crept down her dress +like caressing hands of light, until her figure, passing into a solid +shadow, left these glimmerings prone upon the dusty road behind her. +The "brides," or strings of her little muslin cap, flaunted in the +breeze and a shawl of China crape fluttered from her shoulders. So +much of her dusky hair as defied concealment contrasted strongly with +the calm translucent pallor of her face. The eyes, alone, belittled +the tranquillity of countenance; against the rare repose of features, +they were the more eloquent, shining beneath brows, delicately defined +but strongly marked, and shaded by long upturned lashes, deep in tone +as a sloe. + +"You are an early riser," he resumed. + +"Not always," she replied. "But after yesterday it seemed so bright +outdoors and the country so lovely!" + +His gaze, following hers, traversed one of the hollows. Below yet +rested deep shadows, but upon the hillside a glory celestial enlivened +and animated the surrounding scene. Scattered houses, constituting the +little hamlet, lay in the partial shade of the swelling land, the +smoke, with its odor of burning pine, rising lazily on the languid +air. In the neighboring field a farm hand was breaking up the ground +with an old-fashioned, pug-nosed "dirt-rooter;" soil as rich as that +of Egypt, or the land, Gerar, where Isaac reaped an hundred fold and +every Israelite sat under the shadow of his own vine. + +Pausing, the husbandman leaned on the handle of his plow and +deliberately surveyed the couple on the road. Having at the same time +satisfied his curiosity and rested his arms, he grasped the handles +once more and the horses pulled and tugged at the primitive +implement. + +While the soldier and the young girl were thus occupied in surveying +the valley and the adjacent mounds and hummocks, the horse, +considering doubtlessly that there had been enough inaction, tapped +the ground with rebellious energy and tossed his head in mutiny +against such procrastination. + +"Your horse wants to go on," she said, observing this equine by-play. + +"He usually does," replied the rider. "Perhaps, though, I am +interrupting you? I see you have a play in your hand." + +"I was looking over a part--but I know it very well," she added, +moving slowly from the border of willows. Leading his horse, he +followed. + +His features, stern and obdurate in repose, relaxed in severity, while +the deep-set blue eyes grew less searching and guarded. This +alleviation became him well, a tide of youth softening his expression +as a wave smoothes the sands. + +"What is the part?" + +"Juliana, in 'The Honeymoon'! It is one of our stock pieces." + +"And you like it?" + +"Oh, yes." Lingering where a bit of sward was set with field flowers. + +"And who plays the duke?" he continued. + +"Mr. O'Flariaty," she answered, a suggestion of amusement in her +glance. Beneath the shading of straight, black brows, her eyes were +deceptively dark, until scrutinized closely, they resolved themselves +into a clear gray. + +"Ah," he said, recalling Adonis, O'Flariaty's, appearance, and, as he +spoke, a smile of singular sweetness lightened his face. "A Spanish +grandee with a touch of the brogue! But I must not decry your noble +lord!" he added. + +"No lord of mine!" she replied gaily. "My lord must have a velvet +robe, not frayed, and a sword not tin, and its most sanguinary purpose +must not be to get between his legs and trip him up! Of course, when +we act in barns--" + +"In barns!" + +"Oh, yes, when we can find them to act in!" + +She glanced at him half-mockingly. + +"I suppose you think of a barn as only a place for a horse." + +The sound of carriage wheels interrupted his reply, and, looking in +the direction from whence it came, they observed a coach doubling the +curve before the willows and approaching at a rapid pace. It was a +handsome and imposing equipage, with dark crimson body and wheels, +preserving much of the grace of ancient outline with the utility of +modern springs. + +As they drew aside to permit it to pass the features of its occupant +were seen, who, perceiving the young girl on the road--the shawl, +half-fallen from her shoulder revealing the plastic grace of an erect +figure--gazed at her with surprise, then thrust his head from the +window and bowed with smiling, if somewhat exaggerated, politeness. +The next moment carriage and traveler vanished down the road in a +cloud of dust, but an alert observer might have noticed an eye at the +rear port-hole, as though the person within was supplementing his +brief observation from the side with a longer, if diminishing, view +from behind. + +The countenance of the young girl's companion retrograded from its +new-found favor to a more inexorable cast. + +"A friend of yours?" he said, briefly. + +"I never saw him before," she answered with flashing eyes. "Perhaps he +is the lord of the manor and thought I was one of his subjects." + +"There are lords in this country, then?" + +"Lords or patroons, they are called," she replied, her face still +flushed. + +At this moment, across the meadows, beyond the fence of stumps--poor +remains of primeval monarchs!--a woman appeared at the back door of +the inn with a tin horn upon which she blew vigorously, the harsh +blasts echoing over hill and valley. The startled swallows and +martins arose from the eaves and fluttered above the roof. The farm +hand at the plow released the handle, and the slip-shod maid appeared +in the door of the cow-shed, spry and nimble enough at meal time. + +From the window of her room Susan saw them returning and looked +surprised as well as a bit annoyed. Truth to tell, Mistress Susan, +with her capacity for admiring and being admired, had conceived a +momentary interest in the stranger, a fancy as light as it was +ephemeral. That touch of melancholy when his face was in repose +inspired a transitory desire for investigation in this past-mistress +of emotional analysis. But the arrival of the coach which had passed +the couple soon diverted Susan's thoughts to a new channel. + +The equipage drew up, and a young man, dressed in a style novel in +that locality, sprang out. He wore a silk hat with scarcely any brim, +trousers extremely wide at the ankle, a waistcoat of the dimensions of +1745, and large watch ribbons, sustaining ponderous bunches of seals. + +The gallant fop touched the narrow brim of his hat to Kate, who was +peeping from one window, and waved a kiss to Susan, who was +surreptitiously glancing from another, whereupon both being detected, +drew back hastily. Overwhelmed by the appearance of a guest of such +manifest distinction, the landlord bowed obsequiously as the other +entered the tavern with a supercilious nod. + +To Mistress Susan this incident was exciting while it lasted, but +when the dandy had disappeared her attention was again attracted to +Constance and Saint-Prosper, who slowly approached. He paused with his +horse before the front door and she stood a moment near the little +porch, on either side of which grew sweet-williams, four-o'clocks and +larkspur. But the few conventional words were scanty crumbs for the +fair eavesdropper above, the young girl soon entering the house and +the soldier leading his horse in the direction of the stable. As the +latter disappeared around the corner of the tavern, Susan left the +window and turned to the mirror. + +"La!" she said, holding a mass of blond hair in one hand and deftly +coiling it upon her little head, "I believe she got up early to meet +him." But Kate only yawned lazily. + +Retracing his steps from the barn, the soldier crossed the back-yard, +where already on the clothes' line evidences of early matutinal +industry, a pair of blue over-alls, with sundry white and red +stockings, were dancing in the breeze. First the over-alls performed +wildly, then the white stockings responded with vim, while the red +ones outdid themselves by their shocking abandonment, vaunting skyward +as though impelled by the phantom limbs of some Parisian _danseuse_. + +Making his way by this dizzy saturnalia and avoiding the pranks of +animated hosiery and the more ponderous frolics of over-alls, sheets +and tablecloths, Saint-Prosper entered the kitchen. Here the farm hand +and maid of all work were eating, and the landlord's rotund and +energetic wife was bustling before the fireplace. An old iron crane, +with various sized pothooks and links of chain, swung from the jambs +at the will of the housewife. Boneset, wormwood and catnip had their +places on the wall, together with ears of corn and strings of dried +apples. + +Bustling and active, with arms bared to the elbow and white with +flour, the spouse of mine host realized the scriptural injunction: +"She looketh well to the ways of her household." Deftly she spread the +dough in the baking pan; smoothly leveled it with her palm; with nice +mathematical precision distributed bits of apple on top in parallel +rows; lightly sprinkled it with sugar, and, lo and behold, was +fashioned an honest, wholesome, Dutch apple cake, ready for the +baking! + +In the tap-room the soldier encountered the newcomer, seated not far +from the fire as though his blood flowed sluggishly after his long +ride in the chill morning air. Upon the table lay his hat, and he was +playing with the seals on his watch ribbon, his legs indolently +stretched out straight before him. Occasionally he coughed when the +smoke, exuding from the damp wood, was not entirely expelled up the +chimney, but curled around the top of the fireplace and diffused +itself into the atmosphere. Well-built, although somewhat slender of +figure, this latest arrival had a complexion of tawny brown, a living +russet, as warm and glowing as the most vivid of Vandyke pigments. + +He raised his eyes slowly as the soldier entered and surveyed him +deliberately. From a scrutiny of mere physical attributes he passed on +to the more important details of clothes, noting that his sack coat +was properly loose at the waist and that the buttons were sufficiently +large to pass muster, but also detecting that the trousers lacked +breadth at the ankles and that the hat had a high crown and a broad +brim, from which he complacently concluded the other was somewhat +behind the shifting changes of fashion. + +"Curse me, if this isn't a beastly fire!" he exclaimed, stretching +himself still more, yawning and passing a hand through his black hair. +"Hang them, they might as well shut up their guests in the smoke-house +with the bacons and hams! I feel as cured as a side of pig, ready to +be hung to a dirty rafter." + +With which he pulled himself together, went to the window, raised it +and placed a stick under the frame. + +"They tell me there's a theatrical troupe here," he resumed, returning +to his chair and relapsing into its depths. "Perhaps you are one of +them?" + +"I have not that honor." + +"Honor!" repeated the new arrival with a laugh. "That's good! That was +one of them on the road with you, I'll be bound. You have good taste! +Heigho!" he yawned again. "I'm anchored here awhile on account of a +lame horse. Perhaps though"--brightening--"it may not be so bad after +all. These players promise some diversion." At that moment his face +wore an expression of airy, jocund assurance which faded to visible +annoyance as he continued: "Where can that landlord be? He placed me +in this kennel, vanished, and left me to my fate. Ah, here he is at +last!" As the host approached, respectfully inquiring: + +"Is there anything more I can do for you?" + +"More?" exclaimed this latest guest, ironically. "Well, better late +than never! See that my servant has help with the trunks." + +"Very well, sir; I'll have Sandy look after them. You are going to +stay then?" Shifting several bottles on the bar with apparent +industry. + +"How can I tell?" returned the newcomer lightly. "Fate is a Sphynx, +and I am not OEdipus to answer her questions!" + +The landlord looked startled, paused in his feigned employment, but +slowly recovering himself, began to dust a jar of peppermint candy. + +"How far is it to Meadtown?" continued the guest. + +"Forty odd miles! Perhaps you are seeking the old patroon manor there? +They say the heir is expected any day"--gazing fixedly at the young +man--"at least, the anti-renters have received information he is +coming and are preparing--" + +The sprightly guest threw up his hands. + +"The trunks! the trunks!" he exclaimed in accents of despair. "Look at +the disorder of my attire! The pride of these ruffles leveled by the +dew; my wristbands in disarray; the odor of the road pervading my +person! The trunks, I pray you!" + +"Yes, sir; at once, sir! But first let me introduce you to Mr. +Saint-Prosper, of Paris, France. Make yourselves at home, gentlemen!" + +With which the speaker hurriedly vanished and soon the bumping and +thumping in the hall gave cheering assurance of instructions +fulfilled. + +"That porter is a prince among his kind," observed the guest +satirically, wincing as an unusual bang overhead shook the ceiling. +"But I'll warrant my man won't have to open my luggage after he gets +through." + +Then as quiet followed the racket above--"So you're from Paris, +France?" he asked half-quizzically. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet +somebody from somewhere. As I, too, have lived--not in vain!--in +Paris, France, we may have mutual friends?" + +"It is unlikely," said the soldier, who meanwhile had drawn off his +riding gloves, placed them on the mantel, and stood facing the fire, +with his back to the other guest. As he spoke he turned deliberately +and bent his penetrating glance on his questioner. + +"Really? Allow me to be skeptical, as I have considerable acquaintance +there. In the army there's that fire-eating conqueror of the ladies, +Gen--" + +"My rank was not so important," interrupted the other, "that I +numbered commanders among my personal friends." + +"As you please," said the last guest carelessly. "I had thought to +exchange a little gossip with you, but--_n'importe_! In my own veins +flows some of the blood of your country." + +For the time his light manner forsook him. + +"Her tumults have, in a measure, been mine," he continued. "Now she is +without a king, I am well-nigh without a mother-land. True; I was not +born there--but it is the nurse the child turns to. Paris was my +_bonne_--a merry abigail! Alas, her vicious brood have turned on her +and cast her ribbons in the mire! Untroubled by her own brats, she +could extend her estates to the Eldorado of the southwestern seas." He +had arisen and, with hands behind his back, was striding to and fro. +Coming suddenly to a pause, he asked abruptly: + +"Do you know the Abbé Moneau?" + +At the mention of that one-time subtle confidant of the deposed king, +now the patron of republicanism, Saint-Prosper once more regarded his +companion attentively. + +"By reputation, certainly," he answered, slowly. + +"He was my tutor and is now my frequent correspondent. Not a bad sort +of mentor, either!" The new arrival paused and smiled reflectively. +"Only recently I received a letter from him, with private details of +the flight of the king and vague intimations of a scandal in the army, +lately come to light." + +His listener half-started from his seat and had the speaker not been +more absorbed in his own easy flow of conversation than in the +attitude of the other, he would have noticed that quick change of +manner. Not perceiving it, however, he resumed irrelevantly: + +"You see I am a sociable animal. After being cramped in that +miserable coach for hours, it is a relief to loosen one's tongue as +well as one's legs. Even this smoky hovel suggests good-fellowship and +jollity beyond a dish of tea. Will you not join me in a bottle of +wine? I carry some choice brands to obviate the necessity of drinking +the home-brewed concoctions of the inn-keepers of this district." + +"Thank you," said the soldier, at the same time rising from his chair. +"I have no inclination so early in the day." + +"Early?" queried the newcomer. "A half-pint of Chateau Cheval Blanc or +Cru du Chevalier, high and vinous, paves a possible way for Brother +Jonathan's _déjeuner_--fried pork, potatoes and chicory!" And turning +to his servant who had meanwhile entered, he addressed a few words to +him, and, as the door closed on the soldier, exclaimed with a shrug of +the shoulders: + +"An unsociable fellow! I wonder what he is doing here." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE + + +Pancakes, grits, home-made sausage, and, before each guest, an egg +that had been proudly heralded by the clucking hen but a few hours +before--truly a bountiful breakfast, discrediting the latest guest's +anticipations! The manager, in high spirits, mercurial as the weather, +came down from his room, a bundle of posters under his arm, +boisterously greeting Saint-Prosper, whom he encountered in the hall: + +"Read the bill! 'That incomparable comedy, The Honeymoon, by a +peerless company.' How does that sound?" + +"Attractive, certainly," said the other. + +"Do you think it strong enough? How would 'unparagoned' do?" + +"It would be too provincial, my dear; too provincial!" interrupted the +querulous voice of the old lady. + +"Very well, Madam!" the manager replied quickly. "You shall be +'peerless' if you wish. Every fence shall proclaim it; every post +become loquacious with it." + +"I was going to the village myself," said the soldier, "and will join +you, if you don't mind?" he added suddenly. + +"Mind? Not a bit. Come along, and you shall learn of the duties of +manager, bill-poster, press-agent and license-procurer." + +An hour or so later found the two walking down the road at a brisk +pace, soon leaving the tavern behind them and beginning to descend a +hill that commanded a view to eastward. + +"How do you advertise your performances?" asked the younger man, +opening the conversation. + +"By posters, written announcements in the taverns, or a notice in the +country paper, if we happen along just before it goes to press," +answered Barnes. "In the old times we had the boy and the bell." + +"The boy and the bell?" + +"Yes," assented Barnes, a retrospective smile overspreading his +good-natured face; "when I was a lad in Devonshire the manager announced +the performance in the town market-place. I rang a cow-bell to attract +attention and he talked to the people: Ding-a-ling!--'Good people, +to-night will be given "Love in a Wood";' ding-a-long!--'to-morrow night, +"The Beaux' Strategem'";' ding!--'Wednesday, "The Provoked Wife";' +ling!--'Thursday, "The Way of the World."' So I made my début in a +noisy part and have since played no rôle more effectively than that of the +small boy with the big bell. Incidentally, I had to clean the lamps +and fetch small beer to the leading lady, which duties were perfunctorily +performed. My art, however, I threw into the bell," concluded the +manager with a laugh. + +"Do you find many theaters hereabouts?" asked the other, thoughtfully. + +Barnes shook his head. "No; although there are plenty of them upon the +Atlantic and Southern circuits. Still we can usually rent a hall, +erect a stage and construct tiers of seats. Even a barn at a pinch +makes an acceptable temple of art. But our principal difficulty is +procuring licenses to perform." + +"You have to get permission to play?" + +"That we do!" sighed the manager. "From obdurate trustees in villages +and stubborn supervisors or justices of the peace in the hamlets." + +"But their reason for this opposition?" asked his companion. + +They were now entering the little hamlet, exchanging the grassy path +for a sidewalk of planks laid lengthwise, and the peace of nature for +such signs of civilization as a troop of geese, noisily promenading +across the thoroughfare, and a peacock--in its pride of pomp as a +favored bird of old King Solomon--crying from the top of the shed and +proudly displaying its gorgeous train. Barnes wiped the perspiration +from his brow, as he answered: + +"Well, a temperance and anti-theatrical agitation has preceded us in +the Shadengo Valley, a movement originated in Baltimore by seven men +who had been drunkards and are now lecturing throughout the country. +This is known as the 'Washington' movement, and among the most +formidable leaders of the crusade is an old actor, John B. Gough. But +here we are at the supervisor's office. I'll run in and get the +license, if you'll wait a moment." + +Saint-Prosper assented, and Barnes disappeared through the door of a +one-story wooden building which boasted little in its architectural +appearance and whose principal decorations consisted of a small +window-garden containing faded geraniums, and a sign with sundry +inverted letters. The neighborhood of this far from imposing structure +was a rendezvous for many of the young men of the place who had much +leisure, and, to judge from the sidewalk, an ample supply of Lone Jack +or some other equally popular plug tobacco. As Saint-Prosper surveyed +his surroundings, the Lone Jack, or other delectable brand, was +unceremoniously passed from mouth to mouth with immediate and +surprising results so far as the sidewalk was concerned. Regarding +these village yokels with some curiosity, the soldier saw in them a +possible type of the audiences to which the strollers must appeal for +favor. To such hobnails must the fair Rosalind say: "I would kiss as +many of you as had beards that pleased me." And the churls would +applaud with their cowhide boots, devour her with eager eyes and--at +this point the soldier found himself unconsciously frowning at his +village neighbors until, with an impatient laugh, he recalled his +wandering fancies. What was it to him whether the players appeared in +city or hamlet? Why should he concern himself in possible conjectures +on the fortunes of these strollers? Moreover-- + +Here Barnes reappeared with dejection in his manner, and, treading his +way absent-mindedly past the Lone Jack contingent with no word of +explanation to his companion, began to retrace his steps toward the +hostelry on the hill. + +"Going back so soon?" asked the young man in surprise. + +"There is nothing to be done here! The temperance lecturer has just +gone; the people are set against plays and players. The supervisor +refuses the license." + +With which the manager relapsed into silence, rueful and melancholy. +Their road ran steadily upward from the sleepy valley, skirting a wood +where the luxuriance of the overhanging foliage and the bright +autumnal tint of the leaves were like a scene of a spectacular play. +Out of breath from the steepness of the ascent, and, with his hand +pressed to his side, Barnes suddenly called a halt, seated himself on +a stump, his face somewhat drawn, and spoke for the first time since +he left the hamlet. + +"Let's rest a moment. Something catches me occasionally here," tapping +his heart. "Ah, that's better! The pain has left. No; it's nothing. +The machinery is getting old, that's all! Let me see--Ah, yes!" And he +drew a cigar from his pocket. "Perhaps there lies a crumb of comfort +in the weed!" + +The manager smoked contemplatively, like a man pushed to the verge of +disaster, weighing the slender chances of mending his broken fortunes. +But as he pondered his face gradually lightened with a faint glimmer +of satisfaction. His mind, seeking for a straw, caught at a possible +way out of this labyrinth of difficulties and in a moment he had +straightened up, puffing veritable optimistic wreaths. He arose +buoyantly; before he reached the inn the crumb of comfort had become a +loaf of assurance. + +At the tavern the manager immediately sought mine host, stating his +desire to give a number of free performances in the dining-room of the +hotel. The landlord demurred stoutly; he was an inn-keeper, not the +proprietor of a play-house. Were not tavern and theater inseparable, +retorted Barnes? The country host had always been a patron of the +histrionic art. Beneath his windows the masque and interlude were +born. The mystery, harlequinade and _divertissement_ found shelter in +a pot-house. + +In a word, so indefatigably did he ply arguments, appealing alike to +clemency and cupidity--the custom following such a course--that the +landlord at length reluctantly consented, and soon after the +dining-room was transformed into a temple of art; stinted, it is true, +for flats, drops, flies and screens, but at least more tenable than +the roofless theaters of other days, when a downpour drenched the +players and washed out the public, causing rainy tears to drip from +Ophelia's nose and rivulets of rouge to trickle down my Lady +Slipaway's marble neck and shoulders. In this labor of converting the +dining-room into an auditory, they found an attentive observer in the +landlord's daughter who left her pans, plates and platters to watch +these preparations with round-eyed admiration. To her that temporary +stage was surrounded by glamour and romance; a world remote from cook, +scullion and maid of all work, and peopled with well-born dames, +courtly ladies and exalted princesses. + +Possibly interested in what seemed an incomprehensible venture--for +how could the manager's coffers be replenished by free +performances?--Saint-Prosper that afternoon reminded Barnes he had +returned from the village without fulfilling his errand. + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Barnes, his face wrinkling in perplexity. "What +have I been thinking about? I don't see how I can go now. Hawkes or +O'Flariaty can't be spared, what with lamps to polish and costumes to +get in order! Hum!" he mused dubiously. + +"If I can be of any use, command me," said the soldier, unexpectedly. + +"You!"--exclaimed the manager. "I could not think--" + +"Oh, it's a notable occupation," said the other with a satirical +smile. "Was it not the bill-posters who caused the downfall of the +French dynasty?" he added. + +"In that case," laughed Barnes, with a sigh of relief, "go ahead and +spread the inflammable dodgers! Paste them everywhere, except on the +tombstones in the graveyard." + +Conspicuously before the postoffice, grocery store, on the town pump +and the fence of the village church, some time later, the soldier +accordingly nailed the posters, followed by an inquisitive group, who +read the following announcement: "Tuesday, 'The Honeymoon'; Wednesday, +'The School for Scandal'; Thursday, 'The Stranger,' with diverting +specialties; Friday, 'Romeo and Juliet'; Saturday, 'Hamlet,' with a +Jig by Kate Duran. At the Travelers' Friend. Entrance Free." + +"They're going to play after all," commented the blacksmith's wife. + +"I don't see much harm in 'Hamlet,'" said the supervisor's yokemate. +"It certainly ain't frivolous." + +"Let's go to 'The Honeymoon'?" suggested an amorous carl to his +slip-slop Sal. + +"Go 'long!" she retorted with barn-yard bashfulness. + +"Did you ever see 'The School for Scandal'?" asked the smithy's good +wife. + +"Once," confessed the town official's faded consort, her worn face +lighting dreamily. "It was on our wedding trip to New York. Silas +warn't so strict then." + +Amid chit-chat, so diverting, Saint-Prosper finished "posting" the +town. It had been late in the afternoon before he had altered the +posters and set out on his paradoxical mission; the sun was declining +when he returned homeward. Pausing at a cross-road, he selected a tree +for one of his remaining announcements. It was already adorned with a +dodger, citing the escape of a negro slave and offering a reward for +his apprehension; not an uncommon document in the North in those +days. + +As the traveler read the bill his expression became clouded, +cheerless. Around him the fallen leaves gave forth a pleasant +fragrance; caught in the currents of the air, they danced in a circle +and then broke away, hurrying helter-skelter in all directions. + +"Poor devil!" he muttered. "A fugitive--in hiding--" + +And he nailed one of his own bills over the dodger. As he stood there +reflectively the lights began to twinkle in the village below like +stars winking upwards; the ascending smoke from a chimney seemed a +film of lace drawn slowly through the air; from the village forge came +a brighter glow as the sparks danced from the hammers on the anvils. + +Shaking the reins on his horse's neck, the soldier continued his way, +while the sun, out of its city of clouds, sent beams like a +searchlight to the church spire; the fields, marked by the plow; the +gaunt stumps in a clearing, displaying their giant sinews. Then the +resplendent rays vanished, the battlements crumbled away and night, +with its army of shadows, invaded the earth. As Saint-Prosper +approached the tavern, set prominently on the brow of the hill, all +was solemnly restful save the sign which now creaked in doleful +doldrums and again complained wildly as the wind struck it a vigorous +blow. The windows were bright from the fireplace and lamp; above the +door the light streamed through the open transom upon the swaying +sign and the fluttering leaves of the vine that clambered around the +entrance. + +In the parlor, near a deteriorated piano whose yellow keys were +cracked and broken--in almost the seventh stage of pianodum, _sans_ +teeth, _sans_ wire, _sans_ everything--he saw the dark-eyed girl and +reined his horse. As he did so, she seated herself upon the hair-cloth +stool, pressed a white finger to a discolored key and smiled at the +not unexpected result--the squeak of decrepitude. While her hand still +rested on the board and her features shone strongly in relief against +the fire like a cameo profile set in bloodstone, a figure approached, +and, leaning gracefully upon the palsied instrument, bent over her +with smiling lips. It was the grand seignior, he of the equipage with +silver trimmings. If the horseman's gaze rested, not without interest, +on the pleasing picture of the young actress, it was now turned with +sudden and greater intentness to that of the dashing stranger, a swift +interrogation glancing from that look. + +How had he made his peace with her? Certainly her manner now betrayed +no resentment. While motionless the rider yet sat in his saddle, an +invisible hand grasped the reins. + +"Shall I put up your horse?" said a small voice, and the soldier +quickly dismounted, the animal vanishing with the speaker, as +Saint-Prosper entered the inn. Gay, animated, conscious of his +attractions, the fop hovered over the young girl, an all-pervading +Hyperion, with faultless ruffles, white hands, and voice softly +modulated. That evening the soldier played piquet with the wiry old +lady, losing four shillings to that antiquated gamester, and, when he +had paid the stakes, the young girl was gone and the buoyant beau had +sought diversion in his cups. + +"Strike me," muttered the last named personage, "the little stroller +has spirit. How her eyes flashed when I first approached her! It +required some tact and acting to make her believe I took her for some +one else on the road. Not such an easy conquest as I thought, although +I imagine I have put that adventurer's nose out of joint. But why +should I waste time here? Curse it, just to cut that fellow out! +Landlord!" + +"Yes, sir," answered the host behind the bar, where he had been +quietly dozing on a stool with his back against the wall. + +"Do you think my horse will be fit for use to-morrow morning?" + +"The swelling has gone down, sir, and perhaps, with care--" + +"Perhaps! I'll take no chances. Hang the nag, but I must make the best +of it! See that my bed is well warmed, and"--rising--"don't call me in +the morning. I'll get up when I please. Tell my man to come up at +once--I suppose he's out with the kitchen wenches. I have some orders +to give him for the morning. Stay--send up a lamp, and--well, I +believe that's all for now!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!" + + +So well advertised in the village had been the theatrical company and +so greatly had the crusade against the play and players whetted public +curiosity that on the evening of the first performance every bench in +the dining-room--auditorium--of the tavern had an occupant, while in +the rear the standing room was filled by the overflow. Upon the +counter of the bar were seated a dozen or more men, including the +schoolmaster, an itinerant pedagogue who "boarded around" and received +his pay in farm products, and the village lawyer, attired in a +claret-colored frock coat, who often was given a pig for a retainer, +or knotty wood, unfit for rails. + +From his place, well to the front, the owner of the private equipage +surveyed the audience with considerable amusement and complacency. He +was fastidiously dressed in double-breasted waistcoat of figured silk, +loosely fitting trousers, fawn-colored kid gloves, light pumps and +silk hose. Narrow ruffles edged his wristbands which were fastened +with link buttons, while the lining of his evening coat was of +immaculate white satin. As he gazed around upon a scene at once novel +and incongruous, he took from his pocket a little gold case, bearing +an ivory miniature, and, with the eyes of his neighbors bent +expectantly upon him, extracted therefrom a small, white cylinder. + +"What may that be, mister?" inquired an inquisitive rustic, placing +his hand on the other's shoulder. + +The latter drew back as if resenting that familiar touch, and, by way +of answer, poised the cylinder in a tiny holder and deliberately +lighted it, to the amazement of his questioner. Cigarettes were then +unknown in that part of the state and the owner of the coach enjoyed +the dubious distinction of being the first to introduce them there. +"Since which time," says Chronicler Barnes in his memoirs, "their use +and abuse has, I believe, extended." + +The lighting of the aboriginal American cigarette drew general +attention to the smoker and the doctor, not a man of modern small +pills, but a liberal dispenser of calomel, jalap, castor-oil and +quinine, whispered to the landlord: + +"Azeriah, who might he be?" + +"The heir of the patroon estate, Ezekiel. I found the name on his +trunks: 'Edward Mauville.'" + +"Sho! Going to take possession at the manor?" + +"He cal'lates to, I guess, ef he can!" + +"Yes; ef he can!" significantly repeated the doctor. "So this is +the foreign heir? He's got wristbands like a woman and hands +just as small. Wears gloves like my darter when she goes to +meeting-house! And silk socks! Why, the old patroon didn't wear +none at all, and corduroy was good enough for him, they say. +Wonder how the barn-burners will take to the silk socks? Who's the +other stranger, Azeriah?" Indicating with his thumb the soldier, +who, standing against a window casement in the rear of the room, +was by his height a conspicuous figure in the gathering. + +"I don't exactly know, Ezekiel," replied the landlord, regretfully. +"Not that I didn't try to find out," he added honestly, "but he was so +close, I couldn't get nothing from him. He's from Paris, France; may +be Louis Philippe himself, for all I know." + +"No; he ain't Louis Philippe," returned the doctor with decision, +"'cause I seen his likeness in the magazine." + +"Might be the dolphin then," suggested the boniface. "He's so mighty +mysterious." + +"Dolphin!" retorted the other contemptuously. "There ain't no dolphin. +There hasn't been no dolphin since the French Revolution." + +"Oh, I didn't know but there might a been," said the landlord +vaguely. + +From mouth to mouth the information, gleaned by the village doctor, +was circulated; speculation had been rife ever since the demise of the +last patroon regarding his successor, and, although the locality was +beyond the furthermost reach of that land-holder, their interest was +none the less keen. The old master of the manor had been like a myth, +much spoken of, never seen without the boundaries of his acres; but +the new lord was a reality, a creditable creation of tailor, hatter, +hosier, cobbler--which trades had not flourished under the old master +who bought his clothes, cap and boots at a country store, owned by +himself. Anticipation of the theatrical performance was thus relieved +in a measure by the presence of the heir, but the delay, incident to a +first night on an improvised stage, was so unusual that the audience +at length began to evince signs of restlessness. + +Finally, however, when the landlord's daughter had gazed what seemed +to her an interminable period upon the lady and the swan, the lake and +the greyhound, painted on the curtain, this picture vanished by +degrees, with an exhilarating creaking of the rollers, and was +succeeded by the representation of a room in a cottage. The scenery, +painted in distemper and not susceptible to wind or weather, had +manifold uses, reappearing later in the performance as a nobleman's +palace, supplemented, it is true, by a well-worn carpet to indicate +ducal luxury. + +Some trifling changes--concessions to public opinion--were made in the +play, notably in the scene where the duke, with ready hospitality, +offers wine to the rustic Lopez. In Barnes' expurgated, "Washingtonian" +version (be not shocked, O spirit of good Master Tobin!) the countryman +responded reprovingly: "Fie, my noble Duke! Have you no water from the +well?" An answer diametrically opposed to the tendencies of the +sack-guzzling, roistering, madcap playwrights of that early period! + +On the whole the representation was well-balanced, with few weak spots +in the acting for fault finding, even from a more captious gathering. +In the costumes, it is true, the carping observer might have detected +some flaws; notably in Adonis, a composite fashion plate, who strutted +about in the large boots of the Low Countries, topped with English +trunk hose of 1550; his hand upon the long rapier of Charles II, while +a periwig and hat of William III crowned his empty pate! + +Kate was Volante; not Tobin's Volante, but one fashioned out of her +own characteristics; supine, but shapely; heavy, but handsome; slow, +but specious. Susan, with hair escaping in roguish curls beneath her +little cap; her taper waist encompassed by a page's tunic; the trim +contour of her figure frankly revealed by her vestment, was truly a +lad "dressed up to cozen" any lover who preferred his friend and his +bottle to his mistress. Merry as a sand-boy she danced about in russet +boots that came to the knee; lithe and lissome in the full swing of +immunity from skirts, mantle and petticoats! + +Conscious that his identity had been divined, and relishing, perhaps, +the effect of its discovery, the young patroon gazed languidly at the +players, until the entrance of Constance as Juliana, when he forgot +the pleasing sensations of self-thought, in contemplation of the +actress. He remarked a girlish form of much grace, attired in an +attractive gown of white satin and silver, as became a bride, with +train and low shimmering bodice, revealing the round arms and +shoulders which arose ivory-like in whiteness. Instead of the +customary feathers and other ornaments of the period, specified in the +text of the play, roses alone softened the effect of her dark hair. +Very different she appeared in this picturesque Spanish attire from +the lady of the lane, with the coquettish cap of muslin and its +"brides," or strings. + +The light that burned within shone from her eyes, proud yet gay; it +lurked in the corners of her mouth, where gravity followed merriment, +as silence follows laughter when the brook sweeps from the purling +stones to the deeper pools. Her art was unconscious of itself and +scene succeeded scene with a natural charm, revealing unexpected +resources, from pathos to sorrow; from vanity to humility; from scorn +to love awakened. And, when the transition did come, every pose spoke +of the quickening heart; her movements proclaimed the golden fetters; +passion shone in her glances, defiant though willing, lofty though +humble, joyous though shy. + +Was it the heat from the lamps?--but Mauville's brow became flushed; +his buoyancy seemed gross and brutal; desire lurked in his lively +glances; Pan gleamed from the curls of Hyperion! + +The play jogged on its blithesome course to its wonted end; the duke +delivered the excellent homily, + + "A gentle wife + Is still the sterling comfort of a man's life," + +and the well-pleased audience were preparing to leave when Barnes, in +a drab jacket and trunks, trimmed with green ribbon bows, came forward +like the clown in the circus and addressed the "good people." + +"In the golden age," said the father of Juliana, "great men treated +actors like servants, and, if they offended, their ears were cut off. +Are we, in brave America, returning to the days when they tossed an +actor in a blanket or gave a poet a hiding? Shall we stifle an art +which is the purest inspiration of Athenian genius? The law prohibits +our performing and charging admission, but it does not debar us from +taking a collection, if"--with a bow in which dignity and humility +were admirably mingled--"you deem the laborer worthy of his hire?" + +This novel epilogue was received with laughter and applause, but the +audience, although good-natured, contained its proportion of timid +souls who retreat before the passing plate. The rear guard began to +show faint signs of demoralization, when Mauville sprang to his feet. +Pan had disappeared behind his leafy covert; it was the careless, +self-possessed man of the world who arose. + +"I am not concerned about the ethics of art," he said lightly, "but +the ladies of the company may count me among their devout admirers. I +am sure," he added, bowing to the manager with ready grace, "if they +were as charming in the old days, after the lords tossed the men, they +made love to the women." + +"There were no actresses in those days, sir," corrected Barnes, +resenting the flippancy of his aristocratic auditor. + +"No actresses?" retorted the heir. "Then why did people go to the +theater? However, without further argument, let me be the first +contributor." + +"The prodigal!" said the doctor in an aside to the landlord. "He's +holding up a piece of gold. It's the first time ever patroon was a +spendthrift!" + +But Mauville's words, on the whole, furthered the manager's project, +and the audience remained in its integrity, while Balthazar, a +property helmet in hand, descended from his palace and trod the aisles +in his drab trunk-hose and purple cloak, a royal mendicant, in whose +pot soon jingled the pieces of silver. No one shirked his admission +fee and some even gave in excess; the helmet teemed with riches; once +it had saved broken heads, now it repaired broken fortunes, its +properties magical, like the armor of Pallas. + +"How did you like the play, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" said Barnes, as he +approached that person. + +"Much; and as for the players"--a gleam of humor stealing over his +dark features--"'peerless' was not too strong." + +"'Your approbation likes me most, my lord,'" quoted the manager, and +passed quickly on with his tin pot, in a futile effort to evade the +outstretched hand of his whilom helper. + +Thanking the audience for their generosity and complimenting them on +their intelligence, the self-constituted lord of the treasury vanished +once more behind the curtain. The orchestra of two struck up a negro +melody; the audience rose again, the women lingering to exchange their +last innocent gossip about prayer-meeting, or about the minister who +"knocked the theologic dust from the pulpit cushions in the good old +orthodox way," when some renegade exclaimed: "Clear the room for a +dance!" + +Jerusha's shawl straightway fell from her shoulders; Hannah's bonnet +was whipped from her head; Nathaniel paused on his way to the stable +yard to bring out the team and a score of willing hands obeyed the +injunction amid laughing encouragement from the young women whose feet +already were tapping the floor in anticipation of the Virginia Reel, +Two Sisters, Hull's Victory, or even the waltz, "lately imported from +the Rhine." A battered Cremona appeared like magic and + + "In his shirt of check and tallowed hair + The fiddler sat in his bull-rush chair," + +while "'Twas Monnie Musk in busy feet and Monnie Musk by +heart"--old-fashioned "Monnie Musk" with "first couple join right +hands and swing," "forward six" and "across the set"; an honest dance +for country folk that only left regrets when it came to "Good Night +for aye to Monnie Musk," although followed by the singing of "Old +Hundred" or "Come, ye Sinners, Poor and Needy," on the homeward +journey. + +In the parlor the younger lads and lasses were playing "snap and catch +'em" and similar games. The portly Dutch clock gazed down benignly on +the scene, its face shining good-humoredly like the round visage of +some comfortable burgher. "Green grow the rushes, O!" came from many +merry-makers. "Kiss her quick and let her go" was followed by +scampering of feet and laughter which implied a doubt whether the lad +had obeyed the next injunction, "But don't you muss her ruffle, O!" +Forming a moving ring around a young girl, they sang: "There's a rose +in the garden for you, young man." A rose, indeed, or a rose-bud, +rather, with ruffles he was commanded not to "muss," but which, +nevertheless, suffered sadly! + +Among these boys and girls, the patroon discovered Constance, no +longer "to the life a duchess," with gown in keeping with the "pride +and pomp of exalted station," but attired in the simple dress of +lavender she usually wore, though the roses still adorned her hair. +Shunning the entrancing waltz, the inspiring "Monnie Musk" and the +cotillion, lively when set to Christy's melodies, she had sought the +more juvenile element, and, when seen by the land baron, was circling +around with fluttering skirts. Joyous, merry, there was no hint now in +her natural, girlish ways of the capacity that lay within for varied +impersonations, from the lightness of coquetry to the thrill of +tragedy. + +He did not know how it happened, as he stood there watching her, but +the next moment he was imprisoned by the group and voices were +singing: + +"There he stands, the booby; who will have him for his beauty?" + +Who? His eye swept the group; the merry, scornful glances fixed upon +him; the joyous, half-inviting glances; the red lips parted as in +kindly invitation; shy lips, willing lips! + +Who? His look kindled; he had made his selection, and the next moment +his arm was impetuously thrown around the actress's waist. + +"Kiss her quick and let her go!" + +Amid the mad confusion he strove to obey the command, but a panting +voice murmured "no, no!" a pair of dark eyes gazed into his for an +instant, defiantly, and the pliant waist slipped from his impassioned +grasp; his eager lips, instead of touching that glowing cheek, only +grazed a curl that had become loosened, and, before he could repeat +the attempt, she had passed from his arms, with laughing lips and +eyes. + +"Play fair!" shouted the lads. "He should 'kiss her quick and let her +go.'" + +"Oh, he let her go first!" said the others. + +"'Kiss her quick,'" reiterated the boys. + +"He can't now," answered the girls. + +The voices took up the refrain: "Don't you muss the ruffles, O!" and +the game went on. The old clock gossiped gleefully, its tongue +repeating as plainly as words: + +"Let-her-go!--ho!--ho!--one--two--three!" + +Three o'clock! Admonishingly rang out the hour, the jovial face of the +clock looking sterner than was its wont. It glowered now like a +preacher in his pulpit upon a sinful congregation. Enough of +"snatch-and-catch'em;" enough of Hull's Victory or the Opera Reel; +let the weary fiddler descend from his bull-rush chair, for soon the +touch of dawn will be seen in the eastern sky! The merry-making began +to wane and already the sound of wagon-wheels rattled over the log +road away from the tavern. Yes, they were singing, and, as Hepsibeth +leaned her head on Josiah's shoulder, they uplifted their voices in +the good old orthodox hymn, "Come, Ye Sinners," for thus they courted +and worshiped in olden times. + +"Good-night, every one!" said a sweet voice, as Constance passed +calmly on, with not a ruffle mussed. + +"Good-night," answered the patroon, a sparkle in his eyes. "I was +truly a booby." + +"What can you mean?" she laughed. + +"There's many a slip 'twixt--lip and lip!" exclaimed Susan. + +With heightened color the young girl turned, and as she did so her +look rested on the soldier. His glance was cold, almost strange, and, +meeting it, she half-started and then smiled, slowly mounting the +stairs. He looked away, but the patroon never took his eyes from her +until she had vanished. Afar, rising and falling on the clear air, +sounded the voices of the singers: + + "Praise God from whom all blessings flow; + Praise Him all creatures here below;" + +and finally, softer and softer, until the melody melted into silence: + + "Praise Him above, ye Heavenly H-o-s-t--" + +"One good turn deserves another," said Barnes to Saint-Prosper, when +Susan and Kate had likewise retired. "Follow me, sir--to the kitchen! +No questions; but come!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN + + +A keen observer might have noticed that the door of the inn kitchen +had been kept swinging to and fro as certain ones in the audience had +stolen cautiously, but repeatedly, in and out of the culinary +apartment while the dancing and other festivities were in progress. +The itinerant pedagogue was prominent in these mysterious movements +which possibly accounted for his white choker's being askew and his +disposition to cut a dash, not by declining Greek verbs, but by +inclining too amorously toward Miss Abigail, a maiden lady with a +pronounced aversion for frivolity. + +The cause of the schoolmaster's frolicsome deportment was apparent to +the soldier when he followed Barnes into the kitchen, where, in a +secluded corner, near the hospitable oven, in the dim light of a +tallow dip, stood a steaming punch bowl. A log smoldered in the +fireplace, casting on the floor the long shadows of the andirons, +while a swinging pot was reflected on the ceiling like a mighty +eclipse. Numerous recesses, containing pans and plates that gleamed by +day, were wrapped in vague mystery. Three dark figures around the +bowl suggested a scene of incantation, especially when one of them +threw some bark from the walnut log on the coals and the flames sprang +up as from a pine knot and the eclipse danced among the rafters +overhead while the pot swung to and fro. + +As the manager approached the bowl, the trio, moved by some vague +impelling impulse, locked arms, walked toward the side door, crossed +its threshold in some confusion, owing to a unanimous determination to +pass out at one and the same time, and went forth into the tranquil +night, leaving Barnes and Saint-Prosper the sole occupants of the +kitchen. The manager now helped himself and his companion to the +beverage, standing with his back to the tiny forks of flame from the +shagbark. His face expanded with good-fellowship; joviality shone from +his eyes beaming upon the soldier whom he unconsciously regarded as an +auxiliary. + +"Here's to our better acquaintance," he said, placing his hand with +little ceremony on the other's shoulder. "The Bill-Poster!" Raising +his cup. "You gathered them in--" + +"And you certainly gathered in the contents of their pockets!" + +"A fair robbery!" laughed Barnes, "as Dick Turpin said when he robbed +the minister who robbed the king who robbed the people! A happy +thought that, turning the helmet into a collection box! It tided us +over; it tided us over!" + +Saint-Prosper returned the manager's glance in kind; Barnes' candor +and simplicity were apparent antidotes to the other's taciturnity and +constraint. During the country dance the soldier had remained a +passive spectator, displaying little interest in the rustic +merry-making or the open glances cast upon him by bonny lasses, burned +in the sunlit fields, buxom serving maids, as clean as the pans in the +kitchen, and hearty matrons, not averse to frisk and frolic in +wholesome rural fashion. + +But now, in the face of the manager's buoyancy at the success of a +mere expedient--a hopefulness ill-warranted by his short purse and the +long future before him!--the young man's manner changed from one of +indifference to friendliness, if not sympathy, for the over-sanguine +custodian of players. Would the helmet, like the wonderful pitcher, +replenish itself as fast as it was emptied? Or was it but a +make-shift? The manager's next remark seemed a reply to these queries, +denoting that Barnes himself, although temporarily elated, was not +oblivious to the precarious character of "free performances," with +voluntary offerings. + +"What we need," continued the manager, "is a temperance drama. With +what intemperate eagerness would the people flock to see it! But where +is it to be found? Plays don't grow on bushes, even in this +agricultural district. And I have yet to discover any dramatists +hereabouts, unless"--jocularly--"you are a Tom Taylor or a Tom +Robertson in disguise. Are you sure you have never courted the divine +muse? Men of position have frequently been guilty of that folly, +sir." + +"But once," answered the other in the same tone. "At college; a +political satire." + +"Was it successful?" + +"Quite so--I was expelled for writing it!" + +"Well," retorted Barnes, irrelevantly, "you have at least mildly +coquetted with the muse. Besides, I dare say, you have been behind the +scenes a good deal. The green room is a fashionable rendezvous. Where +are you going? And what--if I may ask--is your business?" + +"I am on my way to New Orleans," said the traveler, after a moment's +hesitation. "My business, fortune-getting. In sugar, tobacco, or +indigo-culture!" + +"New Orleans!" exclaimed the manager, poising the ladle in mid air. +"That, too, is our destination. We have an engagement to play there. +Why not join our band? Write or adapt a play for us. Make a temperance +drama of your play!" + +"You are a whimsical fellow," said the stranger, smiling. "Why don't +you write the play yourself?" + +"I? An unread, illiterate dotard! Why, I never had so much as a day's +schooling. As a lad I slept with the rats, held horses, swept +crossings and lived like a mudlark! Me write a play! I might let fall +a suggestion here and there; how to set a flat, or where to drop a +fly; to plan an entrance, or to arrange an exit! No, no; let the +shoemaker stick to his last! It takes"--with deference--"a scholar to +write a drama." + +"Thus you disqualify me," laughed the other, drawing out a pipe which +he filled; and lighted with a coal held in the iron grip of the +antique tongs. "If it were only to help plant a battery or stand in a +gap!" he said grimly, replacing the tongs against the old brick oven +at one side of the grate. "But to beset King Bacchus in three acts! To +storm his castle in the first; scale the walls in the second, and blow +up all the king's horses and all the king's men in the last--that is, +indeed, serious warfare!" + +"True, it will be a roundabout way to New Orleans," continued the +manager, disregarding his companion's response, "but there is no +better way of seeing the New World--that is, if you do not disdain the +company of strolling players. You gain in knowledge what you lose in +time. If you are a philosopher, you can study human nature through the +buffoon and the mummer. If you are a naturalist, here are grand +forests to contemplate. If you are not a recluse, here is free, though +humble, comradeship." + +His listener gazed thoughtfully into the fire. Was the prospect of +sharing this gipsy-like life attractive to him? An adventurer himself, +was he drawn toward these homeless strollers, for whom the illusions +of dramatic art shone with enticing luster in the comparative solitude +of the circuit on the wilderness? + +As he sat before the glow, the light of the burning shagbark, playing +elfishly above the dying embers, outlined the stalwart, yet active +figure and the impenetrable, musing features. But when, with an upward +shower of sparks, the backlog fell asunder and the waning flame cast +yet more gloomy shadows behind them, he leaned back in his heavy, hewn +chair and again bent an attentive look upon the loquacious speaker. + +"Or, if you desire," resumed the manager after some hesitation, "it +might become a business venture as well as a pleasure jaunt. Here is a +sinking ship. Will the salvage warrant helping us into port; that is, +New Orleans? There hope tells a flattering tale. The company is well +equipped; has a varied repertoire, while Constance"--tenderly--"is a +host in herself. If you knew her as I do; had watched her art +grow"--his voice trembled--"and to think, sometimes I do not know +where the next day's sustenance may come from! That she"-- + +He broke off abruptly, gazing at his companion half-apologetically. +"We players, sir," he resumed, "present a jovial front, but"--tapping +his breast--"few know what is going on here!" + +"Therein," said the younger man, emptying his pipe, "you have stated a +universal truth." He pushed a smoldering log with his foot toward the +remnants of the embers. "Suppose I were so minded to venture"--and he +mentioned a modest sum--"in this hazard and we patched up the play +together?" + +"You don't mean it?" cried the manager, eagerly. Then he regarded the +other suspiciously: "Your proposal is not inspired through sympathy?" + +"Why not through the golden prospects you have so eloquently +depicted?" replied Saint-Prosper, coldly. + +"Why not indeed!" exclaimed the reassured manager. "Success will come; +it must come. You have seen Constance but once. She lives in every +character to her heart's core. How does she do it? Who can tell? It's +inborn. A heritage to her!" + +His voice sank low with emotion. "Yes," he murmured, shaking his head +thoughtfully, as though another image arose in his mind; "a heritage! +a divine heritage!" But soon he looked up. "She's a brave girl!" he +said. "When times were dark, she would always smile encouragingly, +and, in the light of her clear eyes, I felt anew the Lord would temper +the wind to the shorn lamb." + +"One--two--three--four," rang the great clock through the silent hall, +and, at its harsh clangor, Barnes started. + +"Bless my soul, the maids'll be up and doing and find us here!" he +exclaimed. "One last cup! To the success of the temperance drama!" + +In a few moments they had parted for their respective chambers and +only the landlord was left down-stairs. Now as he came from behind the +bar, where he had been apparently dozing and secretly listening +through the half-opened door leading into the kitchen, he had much +difficulty to restrain his laughter. + +"That's a good one to tell Ezekiel," he muttered, turning out the +lights and sweeping the ashes on the hearth to the back of the grate. +"To the temperance drama!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT + + +Down the hill, facing the tavern, the shadows of night were slowly +withdrawn, ushering in the day of the players' leaving. A single tree, +at the very top, isolated from its sylvan neighbors, was bathed in the +warm sunshine, receiving the earliest benediction of day. Down, down, +came the dark shade, pursued by the light, until the entire slope of +the hill was radiant and the sad colored foliage flaunted in new-born +gaiety. + +Returning from the stable, where he had been looking after his horse, +the soldier stood for a moment before the inn, when a flower fell at +his feet, and, glancing over his shoulder, he perceived Susan, who was +leaning from her window. The venturesome rose, which had clambered as +high as the second story, was gone; plucked, alas, by the wayward hand +of a coquette. Saint-Prosper bowed, and stooped for the aspiring but +now hapless flower which lay in the dust. + +"You have joined the chariot, I hear?" said Susan. + +"For the present," he replied. + +"And what parts will you play?" she continued, with smiling +inquisitiveness. + +"None." + +"What a pity! You would make a handsome lover." Then she blushed. +"Lud! What am I saying? Besides"--maliciously--"I believe you have +eyes for some one else. But remember,"--shaking her finger and with a +coquettish turn of the head--"I am an actress and therefore vain. I +must have the best part in the new piece. Don't forget that, or I'll +not travel in the same chariot with you." And Susan disappeared. + +"Ah, Kate," she said, a moment later, "what a fine-looking young man +he is!" + +"Who?" drawled her sister. + +"Mr. Saint-Prosper, of course." + +"He is large enough," retorted Kate, leisurely. + +"Large enough! O, Kate, what a phlegmatic creature you are!" + +"Fudge!" said the other as she left the chamber. + +Entering the tavern, the soldier was met by the wiry old lady who +bobbed into the breakfast room and explained the kind of part that +fitted her like a glove, her prejudices being strong against modern +plays. + +"Give me dramas like 'Oriana,' 'The Rival Queens' or Webster's +pieces," she exclaimed, quoting with much fire for her years: + + "'We are only like dead walls or vaulted graves!'" + +"And do not forget the 'heavy' in your piece!" called out Hawkes +across the table. "Something you can dig your teeth in!" + +"Nor the 'juvenile lead,'" chimed in the Celtic Adonis. + +"Adonis makes a great hit in a small part," laughed Kate, appearing at +the door. "'My lord, the carriage is waiting!'" + +"My lady, your tongue is too sharp!" exclaimed Adonis, nettled. + +"And put in a love scene for Adonis and myself," she continued, lazily +floating into the room. "He is so fond of me, it would not be like +acting!" + +This bantering was at length interrupted by the appearance of the +chariot and the property wagon at the front door, ready for the +journey. The rumbling of the vehicles, the resounding hoofs and the +resonant voice of the stable boy awakened the young lord of the manor +in his chamber above. He stretched himself sleepily, swore and again +composed himself for slumber, when the noise of a property trunk, +thumping its way down the front stairs a step at a time, galvanized +him into life and consciousness. + +"Has the world come to an end?" he muttered. "No; I remember; it's +only the players taking their departure!" + +But, although he spoke carelessly, the bumping of boxes and slamming +and banging of portable goods annoyed him more than he would confess. +With the "crazy-quilt"--a patch-work of heptagons of different hues +and patterns--around his shoulders, clothing him with all the colors +of the rainbow, he sat up in bed, wincing at each concussion. + +"I might as well get up!" he exclaimed. "I'll see her once more--the +perverse beauty!" And tossing the kaleidoscopic covering viciously +from him, he began to dress. + +Meanwhile, as the time for their going drew near, mine host +down-stairs sped the parting guest with good cheer, having fared +profitably by the patronage the players had brought to the inn; but +his daughter, Arabella, looked sad and pensive. How weary, flat and +stale appeared her existence now! With a lump in her throat and a pang +in her heart, she recklessly wiped her eyes upon the best parlor +curtains, when Barnes mounted to the box, as robust a stage-driver as +ever extricated a coach from a quagmire. The team, playful through +long confinement, tugged at the reins, and Sandy, who was at the bits, +occasionally shot through space like an erratic meteor. + +The manager was flourishing his whip impatiently when Constance and +Susan appeared, the former in a traveling costume of blue silk; a +paletot of dark cloth, and, after the fashion of the day, a bonnet of +satin and velvet. Susan was attired in a jupe sweeping and immensely +full--to be in style!--and jacquette with sleeves of the pagoda form. +The party seemed in high spirits, as from his dormer window Mauville, +adjusting his attire, peered through the lattice over the edge of the +moss-grown roof and leaf-clogged gutters and surveyed their +preparations for departure. How well the rich color of her gown +became the young girl! He had told himself white was her best +adornment, but his opinion veered on the moment now, and he thought he +had never seen her to better advantage, with the blue of her dress +reappearing in the lighter shade, above the dark paletot, in the +lining of the bonnet and the bow of ribbons beneath her chin. + +"On my word, but she looks handsome!" muttered the patroon. "Might sit +for a Gainsborough or a Reynolds! What dignity! What coldness! All +except the eyes! How they can lighten! But there's that adventurer +with her," as the figure of the soldier crossed the yard to the +property wagon. "No getting rid of him until the last moment!" And he +opened the shutters wider, listening and watching more closely. + +"Are you going to ride in the property wagon?" he heard Saint-Prosper +ask. + +"Yes; when I have a part to study I sometimes retire to the stage +throne," she answered lightly. "I suppose you will ride your horse?" + +Of his reply the listener caught only the words, "wind-break" and +"lame." He observed the soldier assist her to the throne, and then, to +Mauville's surprise, spring into the wagon himself. + +"Why, the fellow is going with them!" exclaimed the land baron. "Or, +at any rate, he is going with her. What can it mean?" And hurriedly +quitting his post, his toilet now being complete, he hastened to the +door and quickly made his way down-stairs. + +During the past week his own addresses had miscarried and his +gallantry had been love's labor lost. At first he had fancied he +was making progress, but soon acknowledged to himself he had +underestimated the enterprise. Play had succeeded play--he could not +have told what part favored her most! Ophelia sighed and died; Susan +danced on her grave between acts, according to the program, and +turned tears into smiles; the farewell night had come and gone--and +yet Constance had made no sign of compliance to reward the patient +wooer. Now, at the sight of these preparations for departure, and +the presence of the stalwart stranger in the property wagon, he +experienced a sudden sensation of pique, almost akin to jealousy. + +Stepping from the tavern, it was with an effort he suppressed his +chagrin and vexation and assumed that air of nonchalance which became +him well. Smilingly he bade Susan and the other occupants of the +chariot farewell, shook Barnes by the hand, and turned to the property +wagon. + +"The noise of your departure awakened me," he said to the young girl. +"So I have come to claim my compensation--the pleasure of seeing +you--" + +"Depart!" she laughed quickly. + +Momentarily disconcerted, he turned to the soldier. "You ride early." + +"As you see," returned the other, immovably. + +"A habit contracted in the army, no doubt!" retorted Mauville, +recovering his easy self-possession. "Well, a bumping trunk is as +efficacious as a bugle call! But _au revoir_, Miss Carew; for we may +meet again. The world is broad--yet its highways are narrow! There is +no need wishing you a pleasant journey." + +His glance rested on Saint-Prosper for a moment, but told nothing +beyond the slight touch of irony in his words and then shifting to the +young girl, it lingered upon each detail of costume and outline of +feature. Before she could reply, Barnes cracked his whip, the horses +sprang forward, and the stable boy, a confused tangle of legs and +arms, was shot as from a catapult among the sweet-williams. The abrupt +departure of the chariot was the cue for the property wagon, which +followed with some labor and jolting, like a convoy struggling in the +wake of a pretentious ship. From the door Mauville watched it until it +reached a toll-gate, passed beneath the portcullis and disappeared +into the broad province of the wilderness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA + + +Calm and still was the morning; the wandering air just stirred the +pendulous branches of the elms and maples, and, in the clear +atmosphere, the russet hills were sharply outlined. As they swung out +into the road, with Hans, the musician, at the reins, the young girl +removed her bonnet and leaned back in the chair of state, where kings +had fretted and queens had lolled. + +The throne, imposing on the stage, now appeared but a flimsy article +of furniture, with frayed and torn upholstering, and carving which had +long since lost its gilded magnificence. Seated amid the jumble of +theatrical appliances and accoutrements--scenery, rolled up +rug-fashion, property trunks, stage clock, lamps and draperies--she +accepted the situation gracefully, even finding nothing strange in the +presence of the soldier. New faces had come and gone in the company +before, and, when Barnes had complacently informed her Saint-Prosper +would journey with the players to New Orleans in a semi-business +capacity, the arrangement appeared conformable to precedent. The +manager's satisfaction augured well for the importance of the +semi-business rôle assumed by the stranger, and Barnes' friendliness +was perhaps in some degree unconsciously reflected in her manner; an +attitude the soldier's own reserve, or taciturnity, had not tended to +dispel. So, his being in the property wagon seemed no more singular +than Hans' occupancy of the front seat, or if Adonis, Hawkes, or Susan +had been there with her. She was accustomed to free and easy +comradeship; indeed, knew no other life, and it was only assiduous +attentions, like those of the land baron's, that startled and +disquieted her. + +As comfortably as might be, she settled back in the capacious, +threadbare throne, a slender figure in its depths--more adapted to +accommodate a corpulent Henry VIII!--and smiled gaily, as the wagon, +in avoiding one rut, ran into another and lurched somewhat violently. +Saint-Prosper, lodged on a neighboring trunk, quickly extended a +steadying hand. + +"You see how precarious thrones are!" he said. + +"There isn't room for it to more than totter," she replied lightly, +removing her bonnet and lazily swinging it from the arm of the chair. + +"Then it's safer than real thrones," he answered, watching the swaying +bonnet, or perhaps, contrasting the muscular, bronzed hand he had +placed on the chair with the smooth, white one which held the blue +ribbons; a small, though firm, hand to grapple with the minotaur, +Life! + +She slowly wound the ribbons around her fingers. + +"Oh, you mean France," she said, and he looked away with sudden +disquietude. "Poor monarchs! Their road is rougher than this one." + +"Rougher truly!" + +"You love France?" she asked suddenly, after studying, with secret, +sidelong glances his reserved, impenetrable face. + +His gaze returned to her--to the bonnet now resting in her lap--to the +hand beside it. + +"It is my native land," he replied. + +"Then why did you leave it--in its trouble?" she asked impulsively. + +"Why?" he repeated, regarding her keenly; but in a moment he added: +"For several reasons. I returned from Africa, from serving under +Bugeaud, to find the red flag waving in Paris; the king fled!" + +"Oh," she said, quickly, "a king should--" + +"What?" he asked, as she paused. + +"I was going to say it was better to die like a king than--" + +"Than live an outcast!" he concluded for her, a shadow on his brow. + +She nodded. "At any rate, that is the way they always do in the +plays," she added brightly. "But you were saying you found your real +king fled?" + +His heavy brows contracted, though he answered readily enough: "Yes, +the king had fled. A kinsman in whose house I had been reared then +bade me head a movement for the restoration of the royal fugitive. For +what object? The regency was doomed. The king, a May-fly!" + +"And so you refused?" + +"We quarreled; he swore like a Gascon. His little puppet should yet +sit in the chair where Louis XIV had lorded it! I, who owed my +commission to his noble name, was a republican, a deserter! The best +way out of the difficulty was out of the country. First it was +England, then it was here. To-morrow--where?" he added, in a lower +tone, half to himself. + +"Where?" she repeated, lightly. "That is our case, too." + +He looked at her with sudden interest. "Yours is an eventful life, +Miss Carew." + +"I have never known any other," she said, simply, adding after a +pause: "My earliest recollections are associated with my mother and +the stage. As a child I watched her from the wings. I remember a grand +voice and majestic presence. When the audience broke into applause, my +heart throbbed with pride." + +But as her thoughts reverted to times past, the touch of melancholy, +invoked by the memory of her mother, was gradually dispelled, as fancy +conjured other scenes, and a flickering smile hovered over the lips +whose parting displaced that graver mood. + +"Once or twice I played with her, too," she added. "I thought it nice +to be one of the little princes in Richard III and wear white satin +clothes. One night after the play an old gentleman took me on his knee +and said: I had to come, my child, and see if the wicked old uncle +hadn't really smothered you!' When he had gone, my mother told me he +was Mr. Washington Irving. I thought him very kind, for he brought me +a bag of bonbons from the coffee-room." + +"It's the first time I ever heard of a great critic laden with +sweetmeats!" said the soldier. "And were you not flattered by his +honeyed regard?" + +"Oh, yes; I devoured it and wanted more," she laughed. + +Hans' flourishing whip put an end to further conversation. "Der stage +goach!" he said, turning a lumpish countenance upon them and pointing +down the road. + +Approaching at a lively gait was one of the coaches of the regular +line, a vehicle of ancient type, hung on bands of leather and +curtained with painted canvas, not unlike the typical French +diligence, except for its absence of springs. The stage was +spattered with mud from roof to wheel-tire, but as the mire was not +fresh and the road fair, the presumption followed that custom and +practice precluded the cleaning of the coach. The passengers, among +whom were several ladies, wearing coquettish bonnets with ribbons +or beau-catchers attached, were too weary even to view with wonder +the odd-looking theatrical caravan. Only the driver, a diminutive +person with puckered face the color of dried apples, so venerable +as to be known as Old Hundred, seemed as spry and cheery as when +he started. + +"Morning," he said, briskly, drawing in his horses. "Come back, have +ye, with yer troupe? What's the neuws from Alban-y?" + +"Nothing, except Texas has been admitted as a State," answered +Barnes. + +"Sho! We air coming on!" commented the Methuselah of the road. + +"Coming on!" groaned a voice in the vehicle, and the florid face of an +English traveler appeared at the door. "I say, do you call this +'coming on!' I'm nearly gone, don't you know!" + +"Hi!--ge' long!--steady there!" And Old Hundred again whipped up his +team, precipitating a lady into the lap of the gentleman who was +"nearly gone," and well-nigh completing his annihilation. + +In less time than when a friendly sail is lost in the mist, Old +Hundred's bulky land-wherry passed from view, and the soldier again +turned to his companion. But she was now intent on some part in a play +which she was quietly studying and he contented himself with lighting +that staple luxury of the early commonwealth, a Virginia stogie, +observing her from time to time over the glowing end. With the book +upon her knee, her head downcast and partly turned from him, he could, +nevertheless, through the mazy convolutions and dreamy spirals of the +Indian weed, detect the changing emotions which swept over her, as in +fancy she assumed a rôle in the drama. Now the faintest shadow of a +smile, coming and going; again beneath the curve of her long lashes, a +softer gleaming in the dark eyes, adding new charm to the pale, proud +face. Around them nature seemed fraught with forgetfulness; the Libyan +peace that knows not where or wherefore. Rocked in the cradle of ruts +and furrows, Hans, portly as a carboy, half-dozed on the front seat. + +Shortly before noon they approached an ancient hostelry, set well back +from the road. To the manager's dismay, however, the door was locked +and boards were nailed across the windows. Even the water pail, +hospitably placed for man or beast, had been removed from its +customary proximity to the wooden pump. Abandoned to decay, the +tenantless inn was but another evidence of traffic diverted from the +old stage roads by the Erie Canal Company. Cold was the fireplace +before which had once rested the sheep-skin slippers for the guests; +empty was the larder where at this season was wont to be game in +abundance, sweet corn, luscious melons--the trophies of the hunt, the +fruits of the field; missing the neat, compact little keg whose spigot +had run with consolation for the wanderer! + +Confronted by the deserted house, where they had expected convivial +cheer, there was no alternative but to proceed, and their journey was +resumed with some discomfiture to the occupants of the coach which now +labored like a portly Spanish galleon, struck by a squall. They had +advanced in this manner for some distance through furrow and groove, +when the vehicle gave a sharper lurch down a deeper rut; a crash was +followed by cries of affright and the chariot abruptly settled on one +side. Barnes held the plunging horses in control, while the gentlemen +scrambled to the ground and assisted the ladies to dismount. + +"Any one hurt?" asked the manager from his box. + +"No damage done--except to the coach," said Hawkes. + +By this time the horses had become quiet and Barnes, now that the +passengers were rescued, like a good skipper, left the quarter deck. + +"We couldn't have chosen a better place for our lunch," he remarked +philosophically. "How fortunate we should have broken down where we +did!" + +"Very fortunate!" echoed the old lady ironically. + +The accident had happened upon a slight plateau, of which they +accordingly took possession, tethering the horses to graze. From the +branches overhead the squirrels surveyed them as if asking what manner +of people were these, and the busy woodpecker ceased his drumming, +cocking his head inquisitively at the intruders; then shyly drew away, +mounting spirally the trunk of the tree to the hole, chiseled by his +strong beak for a nest. As Barnes gazed around upon the pleasing +prospect, he straightway became the duke in the comedy of the forest. + +"Ha, my brothers in exile," he exclaimed, "are not these woods more +free from peril than the envious court?" + +"All it wants," said the tragedian, hungrily, "is mutton, greens and a +foaming pot." + +"I can't promise the foaming pot," answered the manager. "But, at +least, we have a well-filled hamper." + +Soon the coffee was simmering and such viands as they had brought with +them--for Barnes was a far-sighted and provident manager--were spread +out in tempting profusion. Near them a swift-flowing stream chattered +about the stones like one of nature's busiest gossips; it whispered to +the flowers, murmured to the rushes and was voluble to the overhanging +branch that dragged upon the surface of the water. The flowers on its +brim nodded, the rushes waved and the branch bent as if in assent to +the mad gossip of the blithesome brook. And it seemed as though all +this animated conversation was caused by the encampment of the band of +players by the wayside. + +The repast finished, they turned their attention to the injured +chariot, but fortunately the damage was not beyond repair, and Barnes, +actor, manager, bill-poster, license-procurer, added to his already +extensive repertoire the part of joiner and wheelwright. The skilled +artisans in coachmaking and coach-repairing might not have regarded +the manager as a master-workman, but the fractured parts were finally +set after a fashion. By that time, however, the sun had sunk to rest +upon a pillow of clouds; the squirrels, law-abiding citizens, had +sought their homes; the woodpecker had vanished in his snug chamber, +and only forest dwellers of nocturnal habits were now abroad, their +name legion like the gad-abouts of a populous city. + +"There!" exclaimed the manager, surveying his handiwork. "The 'bus is +ready! But there is little use going on to-night. I am not sure of the +road and here is a likely spot to pass the night." + +"Likely to be devoured by wild beasts," said Kate, with a shudder. + +"I am sure I see two glistening eyes!" exclaimed Susan. + +"Fudge!" observed the elastic old lady. "That's the first time you +have been afraid of two-glistening eyes." + +"There's a vast difference between wolves and men," murmured Susan. + +"I'm not so sure of that," returned the aged cynic. + +But as the light of day was withdrawn a great fire sprang up, +illumining the immediate foreground. The flames were cheering, drawing +the party more closely together. Even Hawkes partly discarded his +tragedy face; the old lady threw a bundle of fifty odd years from her +shoulders as easily as a wood-carrier would cast aside his miserable +stack of fagots, while Barnes forgot his troubles in narrating the +harrowing experience of a company which had penetrated the west at a +period antedating the settlement of the Michigan and Ohio boundary +dispute. + +The soldier alone was silent, curiously watching the play of light and +shade on the faces of the strollers, his gaze resting longest, +perhaps, on the features of the young girl. Leaning against an ancient +oak, so old the heart of it was gone and it towered but a mighty +shell, the slender figure of the actress was clearly outlined, but +against that dark and roughly-furrowed background she seemed too +slight and delicate to buffet with storms and hardships. That day's +experience was a forerunner of the unexpected in this wandering life, +but another time the mishap might not be turned to diversion. The +coach would not always traverse sunny byways; the dry leaf floating +from the majestic arm of the oak, the sound of an acorn as it struck +the earth presaged days less halcyon to come. + +"How do you enjoy being a stroller?" asked a voice, interrupting the +soldier's reverie. "It has its bitters and its sweets, hasn't it? +Especially its sweets!" Susan added, glancing meaningly at the young +girl. "But after all, it doesn't much matter what happens to you if +you are in good company." The semi-gloom permitted her to gaze +steadfastly into his eyes. He ignored the opportunity for a +compliment, and Susan stifled a little yawn, real or imaginary. + +"Positively one could die of _ennui_ in this wilderness," she +continued. "Do you know you are a welcome addition to our band? But you +will have to make yourself very agreeable. I suppose"--archly--"you +_were_ very agreeable in the property wagon?" + +"Miss Carew had a part to study," he returned, coldly. + +"A part to study!" In mock consternation. "How I hate studying parts! +They say what you wouldn't, and don't say what you would! But I'm off +to bed," rising impatiently. "I'm getting sleepy!" + +"Sleepy!" echoed Barnes. "Take your choice! The Hotel du +Omnibus"--indicating the chariot--"or the Villa Italienne?"--with a +gesture toward a tent made of the drop curtain upon the walls of which +was the picture of an Italian scene. + +"The chariot for me," answered Susan. "It is more high and dry and +does not suggest spiders and other crawling things." + +"Good-night, then, and remember a good conscience makes a hard bed +soft." + +"Then I shall sleep on down. I haven't had a chance"--with a sigh--"to +damage my conscience lately. But when I strike civilization +again"--and Susan shook her head eloquently to conclude her sentence. +"Oh, yes; if beds depend on conscience, boughs would be feathers for +me to-night." With which half-laughing, half-defiant conclusion, Susan +tripped to the chariot, pausing a moment, however, to cast a +reproachful glance over her shoulder at Saint-Prosper before vanishing +in the cavernous depths of the vehicle of the muses. + +Her departure was the signal for the dispersing of the party to their +respective couches. Now the fire sank lower, the stars came out +brighter and the moon arose and traveled majestically up the heavens, +taking a brief but comprehensive survey of the habitations of mortals, +and then, as if satisfied with her scrutiny, sailed back to the +horizon and dropped out of sight. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FLIPPING THE SHILLING + + +Shortly after the departure of the strolling players from the tavern, +Mauville summoned his servant and ordered his equipage. While waiting +he strode impatiently to and fro in the dining-room, which, dismantled +of the stage, by very contrast to the temporary temple of art, turned +his thoughts to the players. The barrenness of the room smote him +acutely with the memory of those performances, and he laughed +ironically to himself that he should thus revert to them. But as he +scoffed inwardly, his eyes gleamed with vivacity, and the sensations +with which he had viewed the young girl night after night were +reawakened. What was one woman lost to him, his egotism whispered; he +had parted from many, as a gourmand leaves one meal for another. Yes; +but she had not been his, insinuated vanity; another had whipped her +off before his eyes. + +"Why the devil didn't you tell me he was going with them?" he demanded +of the landlord while settling his account. + +"He--who?" asked the surprised inn-keeper. + +"That adventurer you have been harboring here. How far's he going with +them?" + +"I don't know. The night after the performance I heard the manager ask +him to join the company; to write a temperance play." + +"Temperance play!" sneered Mauville. "The fool's gone with them on +account of a woman." + +"I did think he was mighty attentive to one of the actresses," said +the landlord, reflectively. "The one with them melting eyes. Purty +good-looking! Quiet and lady-like, too! So he's gallivanting after +her? Well, well, I guess actresses be all alike." + +"I guess they are," added the heir savagely. "And this one took me +in," he thought to himself. "Holding me off and playing with him, the +jade!" Then he continued aloud: "Where are they going?" + +"Didn't hear 'em say," answered the other, "and I didn't like to +appear too curious." + +"You didn't?" returned Mauville, ironically. "You must have changed +lately." + +"I don't know as I understand you quite," replied the landlord with +sudden dignity. "But here's your carriage and your things are all on. +I guess your tenants will be glad to see you," he continued, not +resisting a parting shot. + +"Curse the tenants!" muttered the guest in ill-humor, as he strode +from the tavern without more ado. + +He was soon on his way, partly forgetting his vexation in new +anticipations, and traveling with spirit to his destination, which he +reached late that afternoon. The residence of the old patroons, a +lordly manor where once lavish hospitality had been displayed, was +approached through great gates of hammered iron in which the family +arms were interwoven, leading into a fine avenue of trees. The +branches of the more majestic met overhead, forming a sylvan arch that +almost obscured the blue sky by day and the stars by night. Gazing +through this vista, a stately portico appeared, with Corinthian +columns, affording an inviting termination of the view. The grounds +bore evidence of neglect in the grass growing knee-high and rank with +weeds; the flower beds almost obliterated; a corn-crib sunk to one +side like a quadruped gone weak-kneed; and the stream that struggled +vainly through the leaves and rubbish barring its passage across the +estate. The fence resembled the "company front" of an awkward squad, +each picket being more or less independent of its neighbor, with here +and there a break or gap in the ranks. + +Passing through the leafy archway over a noiseless road and drawing +near the manor, the heir could see that the broad windows, with their +quaint squares of glass, were unwashed, the portico unswept and the +brass finishings of the front door unpolished. At the right of the +steps leading to the portico, moss-covered and almost concealed by a +rose-bush, stood a huge block of granite upon which rested the +"lifting-stone," as it was called, of one of the early masters. This +not inconsiderable weight the new retainers had been required to lift +in days of old, or failing, the patroon would have none of their +services, for he wanted only lusty, broad-backed varlets for farmers +or--when need were--soldiers. + +In answer to repeated summons from the ponderous knocker, shuffling +footsteps were finally heard within, the door was opened a few inches +and the gleaming teeth of a great, gaunt dog were thrust into the +opening, followed by an ominous growling. Mauville sprang back a step; +the snarling resolved itself into a yelp, as some one unceremoniously +dragged the canine back; the door was opened wider and a brawny +figure, smoking a long-stemmed pipe, barred the way. The dog, but +partly appeased, peered from behind the man's sturdy legs, awaiting +hostilities. The latter, an imperturbable Dutchman, eyed the intruder +askance, smoking as impassively in his face as one of his ancestors +before William the Testy. From his point of vantage on the threshold +the care-taker looked down upon the master so indifferently, while the +dog glared so viciously that the land baron cried angrily: + +"Why the devil don't you get out of the way and call off that beast?" + +The man pondered. "No one but the heir would give orders like that," +he said, so accustomed to speaking his thoughts in the solitude of the +great rooms, that he gave way to the habit now. "This must be the +heir." + +Slowly the care-taker moved aside, the hound shifting his position +accordingly, and Mauville entered, gazing around with some interest, +for the interior of the manor realized the pretensions of its outward +aspect. The floor of the hall was of satinwood and rosewood, and the +mahogany wainscoting, extending almost to the ceiling, was black with +age. With its rich carvings, the stairway suggested woody rioting in +balustrades lifting up to the support of the heavy beams in the +ceiling. The furnishings were in keeping, but dust obscured the +mirror-like surface of the mahogany tables, the heavy draperies were +in need of renovation, while a housewife would have viewed with +despair the condition of brass and ebony inlaid cabinets, ancient +tapestries, and pictures, well-nigh defaced, but worthy, even in their +faded aspect, of the brush of Sir Godfrey Kneller, Benjamin West and +the elder Peale. + +Having casually surveyed his new home, the heir was reminded of the +need for refreshment after his long journey, and, turning to the +care-taker, asked him what there was in the house? The servant smoked +silently as though deeply considering this momentous question, while +the rear guard maintained unabated hostility between the man's +firmly-planted feet. Then abruptly, without removing his pipe, the +guardian of the manor ejaculated: + +"Short-cakes and oly-koeks." + +The other laughed, struck his knee with his light cane and demanded to +be shown to the library, where he would have these outlandish dishes +served. + +"And bring with them, Mynheer Oly-koeks, a bottle of wine," he +continued. "At the same time, chain up the dog. He eyes me with such +hungry hostility that, gad! I believe he's an anti-renter!" + +Mauville was ushered into a large room, where great leather-bound +volumes filled the oak shelves to the ceiling. The care-taker turned, +and, with echoing footsteps, slowly departed, followed by his faithful +four-footed retainer. It is true the latter paused, swung half-around +and regarded the land-owner with the look of a sulky and rebellious +tenant, but, summoned by a stern "Oloffe!" from his master, the dog +reluctantly pattered across the hard-wood floor. + +In surveying his surroundings, the land baron's attention was +attracted by a coat-of-arms deeply carved in the massive wood of the +book-case--on a saltire sable, a fleur-de-lys or. This head of +heraldic flowers appeared to interest Mauville, who smiled grimly. +"From what I know of my worthy ancestors," he muttered, "and their +propensities to prey on their fellow-men, I should say a more fitting +device would be that of Lovett of Astwell: Gules, three wolves passant +sable, in pale." + +Pleased with his own humor, he threw himself upon a couch near the +window, stretching himself luxuriously. Soon the man reappeared with +the refreshments and a bottle of old-fashioned, substantial girth, +which he uncorked with marked solicitude. + +"Where are the oly-koeks?" exclaimed the heir. + +The watchman pointed to a great dish of dark blue willow-ware +pattern. + +"Oh, doughnuts!" said Mauville. "You know where the family lawyer +lives? Have my man drive you to his house and bring him here at +once." + +As the care-taker again disappeared the heir bent over the curiously +shaped bottle in delight, for when the cork was drawn a fragrance +filled the musty apartment as from a bouquet. + +"Blessings on the ancestor who laid down this wine!" he muttered. +"May his ghost wander in to sniff it! These oly-koeks are not bad. +I suppose this man, Ten Breecheses, or whatever he is called, is at +once cook and housekeeper. Although I don't think much of his +housekeeping," ruminated Mauville, as he observed a herculean spider +weaving a web from an old volume of Giraldus Cambrensis, antiquary, +to the classical works of one Joseph of Exeter. There is a strong +sympathy between wine and cobwebs, and Mauville watched with +increasing interest the uses to which these ponderous tomes had +sunk--but serving the bloodthirsty purpose of the nimble architect, +evolving its delicate engineering problem in mid air. + +A great blundering fly had just bobbed into the net and the spider, +with hideous, carnivorous zest, was scrambling for it, when the +guardian of the manor returned with the family solicitor, a little man +who bore in his arms a bundle of papers which, after the customary +greetings, he spread upon the table. He helped himself to a glass of +burgundy and proceeded forthwith to enter into the history of his +trust. + +Mynheer, the patroon, Mauville's predecessor, a lonely, arrogant man, +had held tenaciously to the immense tracts of land acquired in the +colonial days by nominal purchase. He had never married, his desire +for an heir being discounted by his aversion for the other sex, until +as the days dragged on, he found himself bed-ridden and childless in +his old age. Unfortunately the miser can not take his acres into +Paradise, and the patroon, with many an inward groan, cast about him +for some remote relative to whom he would reluctantly transfer his +earthly hereditaments. These were two: one a man of piety, who prayed +with the tenants when they complained of their lot; the other, +Mauville, upon whom he had never set eyes. + +When the earliest patroons had made known to the West India Company +their intention of planting colonies in New Netherland, they had +issued attractive maps to promote their colonization projects. Among +those who had been lured to America by these enticing advertisements +was an ancestor of Edward Mauville. Incurring the displeasure of the +governor for his godless views, this Frenchman was sent to the +pillory, or whipping post, and his neighbors were about to cast out +the devil of irreverence in good old-fashioned manner, when one of +Mynheer's daughters interceded, carried off the handsome miscreant, +and--such was her imperious way!--married him! He was heard in after +years to aver that the whipping would have been the milder punishment, +but, be that as it may, a child was born unto them who inherited the +father's adventuresome and graceless character, deserted his home, +joined hands with some ocean-rovers and sailed for that pasture-ground +of buccaneers, the Caribbean sea. Of his subsequent history various +stories may be found in the chronicles of New Orleans and Louisiana. + +The only other person who might have any pretensions to the estate was +a reverend gentleman who had been a missionary among the Indians, +preaching from a stump, and called "Little Thunder" by the red men +because of his powerful voice; a lineal descendant of the Rev. Doctor +Johannes Vanderklonk, the first dominie of the patroons, who served +for one thousand guilders, payable in meat or drink, twenty-two +bushels of wheat and two firkins of butter. He saved the souls of the +savages, while the white men cheated their bodies. Now and then, in +those early days, the children of the forest protested against this +evangelizing process and carried off the good dominie to the torture +stake, where they plucked out his finger nails; but he returned with +as much zest to his task of landing these simple souls in Paradise as +those who employed him displayed in making an earthly Paradise out of +the lands the red men left behind them. + +When by this shrewd system the savages were gradually saved, and +incidentally exterminated, Little Thunder's occupation was gone and he +became a pensioner of Mynheer the Patroon, earning his bread by an +occasional sermon to the tenants, exhorting them to thrift and +industry, to be faithful and multiply, and to pay their rents +promptly. As Mynheer's time drew near he sent for his attorney and +commanded him to look up the life, deeds and character of Edward +Mauville. + +"This I did," said the lawyer, "and here it is." Waving a roll of +papers before his interested listener. + +"A nauseating mess, no doubt," carelessly remarked the land baron. + +"Oh, sir!" deprecated the lawyer, opening the roll. "'Item: Religion; +pupil of the brilliant Jesuit, Abbé Moneau. Item: Morals; Exhibit A, +the affair with Countess ---- in Paris, where he was sent to be +educated after the fashion of French families in New Orleans; Exhibit +B--'" + +"Spare me," exclaimed Mauville. "Life is wearisome enough, but a +biography--" He shrugged his shoulders. "Come to your point." + +"Of course, sir, I was only trying to carry out his instructions. The +same, sir, as I would carry out yours!" With an ingratiating smile. +Whereupon the attorney told how he had furnished the patroon this roll +and fastened it to his bed, so that he might wind and unwind it, +perusing it at his pleasure. This the dying man did, sternly noting +the damaging facts; thinking doubtlessly how traits will endure for +generations--aye, for ages, in spite of the pillory!--the while Little +Thunder was roaring petitions to divinity by his bedside, as though to +bluster and bully the Almighty into granting his supplications. The +patroon glanced from his pensioner to the roll; from the kneeling man +to that prodigious list of peccadillos, and then he called for a +shilling, a coin still somewhat in use in America. This he flipped +thrice. + +"_Roué_ or sham," he said the first time. + +"Rake or hypocrite," he exclaimed the second time. + +"Devil or Pharisee," he cried the third time. + +He peered over the coin and sent for his attorney. His soul passed +away, mourned by Little Thunder until the will was read, when his +lamentations ceased; he soundly berated Mynheer, the Patroon, in his +coffin and refused to go to his burying. Then he became an ardent +anti-renter, a leader of "bolters," a thunderer of the people's cause, +the devoted enemy of land barons in general, and one patroon in +particular, the foreign heir of the manor. + +"But let him thunder away, sir," said Scroggs, soothingly. "The +estate's yours now, for the old patroon can't come back to change his +mind. He's buried sure enough in the grove, a dark and sombrous spot +as befitted his disposition, but restful withal. Aye, and the marble +slab's above him, which reminds me that only a month before he took to +his bed he was smoking his pipe on the porch, when his glance fell +upon the lifting-stone. Suddenly he strode towards it, bent his back +and raised it a full two inches. 'So much for age!' said he, +scoffing-like. But age heard him and now he lies with a stone on him +he can not lift, while you, sir"--to his listener, deferentially--"are +sole heir to the estate and to the feud." + +"A feud goes with the property?" remarked Mauville carelessly. + +"The tenants object to paying rent," replied Scroggs, sadly. "They're +a sorry lot!" + +"Evade their debts, do they?" said the land baron languidly. "What +presumption to imitate their betters! That won't do; I need the +money." + +"They claim the rights of the landlord originated in fraud--" + +"No doubt!" Yawning. "My ancestors were rogues!" + +"Oh, sir"--deprecatorily. + +"If the tenants don't pay, turn them out," interrupted Mauville, +listlessly, "if you have to depopulate the country." + +Having come to an understanding with his client, the lawyer arose to +take his departure. + +"By the way," he said, obsequiously, selecting a yellow, well-worn bit +of paper from his bundle of documents, "it may interest you to keep +this yourself. It is the original deed for all these lands from the +squaw Pewasch. You can see they were acquired for a few shillings' +worth of 'wet and dry goods' and seventeen and a half ells of +duffels." + +"The old patroons could strike a rare bargain," muttered the heir, as +he casually surveyed the ancient deed, and then, folding it, placed it +in his breast pocket. "For a mere song was acquired--" + +"A vast principality," added the solicitor, waving his hand toward the +fields and meadows far in the distance. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SAMPLING THE VINTAGES + + +Having started the wheels of justice fairly moving, with Scroggs at +the throttle, the new land baron soon discovered that he was not in +consonance with the great commoner who said he was savage enough to +prefer the woods and wilds of Monticello to all the pleasures of +Paris. In other words, those rural delights of his forefathers, the +pleasures of a closer intimacy with nature, awoke no responsive chord +in Mauville's breast, and he began to tire before long of a +patriarchal existence and crullers and oly-koeks and playing the fine +lord in solitary grandeur. + +The very extent of the deserted manor carried an overwhelming sense of +loneliness, especially at this season when nature was dying and +triumphal tints of decay were replacing the vernal freshness of the +forests, flaunting gaudy vestments that could not, however, conceal +the sadness of the transition. The days were growing shorter and the +leaden-colored vapors, driven by the whip of that taskmaster, the +wind, replaced the snow-white clouds becalmed in the tender depths of +ether. Soon would the hoar frost crystallize on grass and fence, or +the autumn rains descend, dripping mournfully from the water spouts +and bubbling over the tubs. Already the character of the dawn was +changed to an almost sullen awakening of the day, denoting a seeming +uneasiness of the hidden forces, while an angry passing of the glowing +orb replaced the Paphian sunset. + +In nook and cranny, through the balustrades and woody screens of the +ancient house, penetrated the wandering currents of air. The draperies +waved mysteriously, as by a hidden hand, and, at nightfall, the floor +of satin and rosewood creaked ominously as if beneath the restless +footsteps of former inmates, moving from the somber hangings of the +windows to the pearl-inlaid harpsichord whose melody was gone, and +thence up the broad staircase, pausing naturally at the landing, +beneath which had assembled gay gatherings in the colonial days. And +such a heedless phantom group--fine gentlemen in embroidered coats, +bright breeches, silk stockings and peruke, and, peeping through +ethereal lace wristbands, a white hand fit for no sterner toil than to +flourish with airy grace a gold-headed cane; ladies with gleaming bare +shoulders, dressed in "cumbrous silk that with its rustling made proud +the flesh that bore it!" The imaginative listener could almost +distinguish these footfalls, as the blind will recognize the tread of +an unseen person. + +To further add to the land baron's dissatisfaction over his heritage, +"rent-day"--that all-important day in the olden times; when my lord's +door had been besieged by the willing lease-holders, cheerful in +rendering unto Caesar what was due Caesar!--seemed to have been +dropped from the modern calendar, as many an ancient holiday has +gradually been lost in the whirligig of time. No long procession now +awaited the patroon's pleasure, when it should suit him to receive the +tribute of guilders, corn or meal; the day might have been as obsolete +as an Hellenic festival day to Zeus, for all the observance it was +accorded. + +"Your notices, Scroggs, were wasted on the desert air," said the +patroon, grimly, to that disappointed worthy. "What's the use of +tenants who don't pay? Playing at feudal lord in modern times is a +farce, Scroggs. I wish we had lived about four hundred years ago." + +"Yes, if four hundred years ago were now," assented the parasite, "I'd +begin with Dick, the tollman! He's a regular Goliath and,"--his face +becoming purple--"when I threatened him with the law, threw me out of +the barn on an obnoxious heap of refuse." + +"You weren't exactly a David, then?" laughed the patroon, in spite of +his bad humor. + +"I'll throw the stone yet," said the little man, viciously showing his +yellow teeth. "The law's the sling." + +That evening, when the broad meadows were inundated by the shadow of +the forest that crept over it like an incoming tide, the land baron +ordered lights for every room. The manor shone in isolated grandeur +amid the gloomy fields, with the forest-wall around it; radiant as of +old, when strains of music had been heard within and many figures +passed the windows. But now there was light, and not life, and a +solitary anti-renter on the lonely road regarded with surprise the +unusual illumination. + +"What does it mean?" asked Little Thunder--for it was he--waiting and +watching, as without the gates of Paradise. + +Well might he ask, for the late Mynheer, the Patroon, had been a +veritable bat for darkness; a few candles answered his purpose in the +spacious rooms; he played the prowler, not the grand lord; a recluse +who hovered over his wine butts in the cellar and gloated over them, +while he touched them not; a hermit who lived half his time in the +kitchen, bending over the smoky fireplace, and not a lavender-scented +gentleman who aired himself in the drawing-room, a fine fop with +nothing but the mirrors to pay him homage. Little Thunder, standing +with folded arms in the dark road, gloomy as Lucifer, almost expected +to see the brilliant fabric vanish like one of those palaces of joy +built by the poets. + +Hour after hour passed, midnight had come and gone, and still the +lights glowed. Seated in the library, with the curtains drawn, were +the land baron and Scroggs, a surveyor's map between them and a dozen +bottles around them. Before Mauville stood several glasses, containing +wines of various vintages which the land baron compared and sipped, +held to the light and inhaled after the manner of a connoisseur +sampling a cellar. He was unduly dignified and stately, but the +attorney appeared decidedly groggy. The latter's ideas clashed against +one another like pebbles in a child's rattle, and, if the round table +may be supposed to represent the earth, as the ancient geographers +imagined it, Scrogg's face was surely the glowing moon shining upon +it. + +Readily had the attorney lent himself to the new order of procedure. +With him it was: "The king is dead! Long live the king!" He, who had +found but poor pickings under the former master--dry crust fees for +pleadings, demurrers or rejoinders--now anticipated generous booty and +spoil. Alert for such crumbs as might fall from a bountiful table; +keen of scent for scraps and bits, but capable of a mighty mouthful, +he paid a courtier's price for it all; wheedling, pandering, ready for +any service, ripe for any revelry. With an adulator's tact, he still +strove strenuously to hold the thread of his companion's conversation, +as Mauville said: + +"Too old, Scroggs; too old!" Setting down a glass of burgundy in which +fine particles floated through the magenta-hued liquid. "It has lost +its luster, like a woman's eyes when she has passed the meridian. Good +wine, like a woman, has its life. First, sweetly innocent, delicately +palatable, its blush like a maiden of sixteen; then glowing with a +riper development, more passionate in hue, a siren vintage; finally, +thin, waning and watery, with only memories of the deeper, rosy-hued +days. Now here, my good, but muddled friend, is your youthful maiden!" +Holding toward the lamp a glass, clear as crystal, with luster like a +gem. "Dancing eyes; a figure upright as a reed; the bearing of a +nymph; the soul of a water lily before it has opened its leaves to the +wooing moonlight!" + +[Illustration] + +"Lord! How you go on!" exclaimed Scroggs. "What with a sampling this +and sampling that, my head's going round like a top. If there's +anything in the cellar the old patroons put down we haven't tried, +sir, I beg to defer the sampling. I am of the sage's mind--'Of all men +who take wine, the moderate only enjoy it,' says Master Bacon, or some +one else." + +"Pass the bottle!" answered the other. "Gently, man! Don't disturb its +repose, and remember it disdains the perpendicular." + +"So will I soon," muttered Scroggs. "I hope you'll excuse me, sir, but +that last drop of Veuve Cliquot was the whip-cord that started the top +going, and, on my word"--raising his hands to his head--"I feel like +holding it on to keep it from spinning off." + +"Spinning or not, you shall try this vintage"--the young man's eyes +gleamed with such fire as shone in the glass--"and drink to Constance +Carew!" + +"Constance Carew!" stammered the other, desperately swallowing the +toast. + +Mauville slowly emptied the glass. "A balsamic taste, slightly piquant +but agreeable," he observed. "A dangerous wine, Scroggs! It carries no +warning; your older kind is like a world-worn coquette whose glances +at once place you on the defensive. This maiden vintage, just +springing into glorious womanhood, comes over you like a springtime +dream." + +"Who--who is she?" muttered Scroggs. + +"She is not in the scroll you prepared for my lamented kinsman, eh? +They are, for the most part, deep red, dark scarlet--that list of fair +dames! She doesn't belong to them--yet! No title, man; not even a +society lady. A stroller, which is next door to a vagrant." + +"Well, sir, she's a woman and that's enough," replied the lawyer. "And +my opinion is, it's better to have nothing to do with 'em." + +This sententious remark seemed to arouse Scroggs to momentary +vivacity. + +"Now there was my Lord Hamerton, whose picture is upstairs," he went +on quickly, like a man who is bent on grasping certain ideas before +they escape him. "He brought a beautiful woman here--carried her off, +they say from England--and installed her as mistress of the manor. I +have heard my father say that his great-grandfather, who was my lord's +solicitor, said that before his death my lord desired to make her his +wife, having been brought to a sense of the sinful life he had led by +a Puritan preacher. But at that, this woman straightened herself up, +surveyed him with scorn, and, laughing like a witch, answered: 'They +say marriages are made in heaven, my lord--and you are the devil!' So +my lord died without having atoned, and, as for my lady who refused to +become an honest woman, I am sure she was damned!" concluded Scroggs +triumphantly. + +"No doubt! So this wicked lord abducted her, Scroggs?" he added +thoughtfully. "A man of spirit, until the Puritans got after him and +showed him the burning pit and frightened him to that virtue which was +foreign to his inclinations. My lady was right in refusing to honor +such a paltry scoundrel with her hand. But it takes courage, Scroggs, +to face everlasting damnation." + +"They say, too, there was a spice of revenge about her unwillingness +to give her hand to my lord," resumed the narrator, unmindful of the +interruption. "This Puritan father said nothing but marriage with her +would save Hamerton from the sulphurous flames and so my lady refused +to sanctify their relations and rescue her lord from perdition!" + +"A pleasant revenge!" laughed the land baron. "He made life a hell for +her and she gave him an eternity of it. But take a little of this +white wine, man. We've drunk to the roses of desire, and now should +drink to the sanctified lilies. Her neck, Scroggs, is like a lily, and +her hand and her brow! Beneath that whiteness, her eyes shine with a +tenderness inviting rays of passion to kindle them. Drink!" + +But the other gave a sudden lurch forward. "My lady--refused--perdition!" +he muttered, and his head dropped to the board. + +"Wake up, man, and drink!" commanded the master. + +"Jush same--they ought to have been married," said his companion +drowsily. "They lived together so--so ill!" And then to place himself +beyond reach of further temptation from the bottle, he quietly and +naturally slid under the table. + +The patroon arose, strode to the window, which he lifted, and the +night air entered, fanning his hot brow. The leaves, on high, rustled +like falling rain. The elms tossed their branches, striking one +another in blind confusion. The long grass whispered as the breeze +stirred it like the surface of an inland lake. Withering flowers gave +up their last perfume, while a storm-cloud fled wildly across the +heavens. Some of the restlessness of the external world disturbed that +silent dark figure at the window; within him, conflicting passions +jarred like the boughs of the trees and his fancies surged like the +eddying leaves. + +"The roses of desire--the sanctified lilies!" he muttered. + +As he stood there the stars grew pale; the sky trembled and quivered +before the advent of morn. A heavy footstep fell behind him, and, +turning, he beheld the care-taker. + +"Not in bed yet, Oly-koeks?" cheerfully said the land baron. + +"I am just up." + +"In that case, it is time for me to retire," returned the master, with +a yawn. "This is a dull place, Oly-koeks; no life; no variety. Nothing +going on!" + +The servant glanced at the formidable array of bottles. "And he calls +this a quiet life!" thought the care-taker, losing his impassiveness +and viewing the table with round-eyed wonder. + +"Nothing going on?" he said aloud. "Mynheer, the Patroon, complained +of too much life here, with people taking farms all around. But, if +you are dull, a farmer told me last night there was a company of +strolling players in Vanderdonkville--" + +"Strollers!" exclaimed Mauville, wheeling around. "What are they +called?" + +"Lord; I don't know, sir. They're show-folks, and that's all--" + +"Do many strolling players come this way?" + +"Not for weeks and months, sometimes! The old patroon ordered the +_schout_ to arrest them if they entered the _wyck_." + +"Is Vanderdonkville in the _wyck_?" asked the land baron quickly. + +"No. It was separated from the _wyck_ when Rickert Jacobus married--" + +"Never mind the family genealogy! Have the coach ready at nine--" + +"To-night?" + +"This morning," replied Mauville, lightly. "And, meanwhile, put this +to bed," indicating Scroggs, who was now snoring like a bag-pipe with +one arm lovingly wound around a leg of the library table. + +The care-taker hoisted the attorney on his broad shoulders, his burden +still piping as they crossed the hall and mounted the stairway. Having +deposited his load within the amazing depths of a Dutch feather +mattress, where he lay well-nigh lost to sight, but not unheard, the +_wacht-meester_ of the _steyn_ left him to well-earned slumber and +descended to the kitchen. + +At the appointed hour, the land baron, freshly shaven, not a jaded +line in his face, and elastic in step, appeared on the front porch +before which his carriage was waiting. + +"When shall I expect you back?" asked Oly-koeks, who had reappeared at +the sound of his master's footsteps. + +"Any time or never!" laughed the patroon, springing into the vehicle. + +But as he drove through a bit of wood, wrapped in pleasing reflections, +he received startling proof that the warfare between landlord and +tenants had indeed begun in earnest, for a great stone suddenly +crashed through the window of the vehicle, without, however, injuring +the occupant. Springing from his carriage, Mauville dashed through +the fringe of wood, discharging his revolver at what he fancied was a +fleeing figure. But a fluttering in the trees from the startled birds +was the only result. + +Little Thunder was too spry to be caught by even a pursuing bullet. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SEALING THE COMPACT + + +"The show troupe has come to town," said the tall, lank postmaster to +every one who called, and the words passed from mouth to mouth, so +that those who did not witness the arrival were soon aware of it. +Punchinello and his companions never attracted more attention from the +old country peasants than did the chariot and its occupants, as on the +day after their night in the woods they passed through the main +thoroughfare of the village where they were soon to appear. + +Children in woolen dresses of red retinet, or in calico vandykes and +aprons, ran after the ponderous vehicle with cries of delight; the +staid, mature contingent of the population shook their heads +disapprovingly, while viewing with wonder the great lumbering coach, +its passengers inside and out, and, behind, the large wagon with its +load of miscellaneous trappings. Now on the stage throne lolled the +bass viol player, even as Jacques assumed the raiment of the Duke of +Aranza, reclining the while in his chair of state. Contentment was +written upon his face, and he was as much a duke or a king, as +Jacques when he swelled like a shirt bleaching in a high wind and +looked burly as a Sunday beadle. + +The principal avenue of the village boasted but few prosperous-looking +business establishments. In the general "mixed store," farmers' +implements, groceries, West India goods and even drugs were dispensed. +But the apothecary's trade then had its limitations, homeopathy being +unknown, while calomel, castor oil and rhubarb were mainly in demand, +as well as senna, manna and other bitter concoctions with which both +young and old were freely dosed. The grocer, haberdasher, and +druggist, all rolled into one substantial personage, so blocked the +doorway of his own establishment, while gazing at the strollers, it +would have puzzled a customer, though but a "sketch and outline" of a +man, to have slipped in or out. Dashing as in review before the rank +and file of the village, the coach, with an extra flourish, rattled up +to the hotel, a low but generous-sized edifice, with a wide, +comfortable veranda, upon the railing of which was an array of boots, +and behind them a number of disconsolate-looking teamsters. + +"You want to register, do you?" said the landlord in answer to Barnes' +inquiry, as the latter entered the office, the walls of which were +covered with advertisements of elections, auctions, sales of stock, +lands and quack medicines. + +"We don't keep no register," continued the landlord, "but I guess we +can accommodate you, although the house is rather full with the +fellers from the ark. Or," he added, by way of explanation in answer +to the manager's look of surprise, "Philadelphia freight wagons, I +suppose you would call them. But we speak of them as arks, because +they take in all creation. Them's the occupants, making a Mount Ararat +of the porch. They're down-hearted, because they used to liquor up +here and now they can't, for the town's temperance." + +"I trust, nevertheless, you are prepared for a season of legitimate +drama," suggested Barnes. + +The other shook his head dubiously. "The town's for lectures clear +through," he answered. "They've been making a big fuss about show +folks." + +The manager's countenance did not fall, however, upon hearing +this announcement; on the contrary, it shed forth inscrutable +satisfaction. + +No sooner were they settled in far from commodious quarters than +preparations for the future were seriously begun; and now the drama +proceeded apace, with Barnes, the moving spirit. Despite his assertion +that he was no scholar, the manager's mind was the storehouse of a +hundred plays, and in that depository were many bags of gold and many +bags of chaff. From this accumulation he drew freely, frankly, in the +light-fingered fashion of master playwrights and lesser theatrical +thimble-riggers. + +Before the manager was a table--the stage!--upon which were scattered +miscellaneous articles, symbols of life and character. A stately +salt-cellar represented the leading lady; a pepper box, the irascible +father; a rotund mustard pot, the old woman; a long, slim cruet, the +_ingenue_; and a pewter spoon, the lover. + +Barnes gravely demonstrated the action of the scene to Saint-Prosper, +and the soldier became collaborator, "abandoning, as it were," wrote +the manager in his autobiographical date-book and diary, "the sword +for the pen, and the glow of the Champ de Mars for the glimmer of a +kerosene lamp." And yet not with the inclination of Burgoyne, or other +military gentlemen who have courted the buskin and sock! On the +contrary, so foreign was the occupation to his leaning, that often a +whimsical light in his eye betrayed his disinclination and modest +disbelief in his own fitness for the task. "He said the way I laid out +an act reminded him of planning a campaign, with the outriders and +skirmishers before; the cavalry arrayed for swift service, and the +infantry marching steadily on, carrying with them the main plot, or +strength of the movement." + +No sooner were the Salt Cellar and Pepper Box reunited, and the Pewter +Spoon clasped in the arms of the loving Cruet, with the curtain +descending, than Barnes, who like the immortal Alcibiades Triplet +could turn his hand to almost anything, became furiously engaged in +painting scenery. A market-place, with a huge wagon, containing +porkers and poultry, was dashed off with a celerity that would have +made a royal academician turn green with envy. The Tiddly Wink Inn was +so faithfully reproduced that the painted bottles were a real +temptation, while on the pastoral green of a rural landscape grazed +sheep so life-like that, as Hawkes observed, it actually seemed "they +would eat the scenery all up." But finally sets and play were alike +finished, and results demonstrated that the manager was correct in his +estimate of such a drama, which became a forerunner of other pieces of +this kind, "The Bottle," "Fruits of the Wine Cup," "Aunt Dinah's +Pledge," and "Ten Nights in a Bar Room." + +In due time the drama was given in the town hall, after the rehearsals +had been witnessed by a committee from the temperance league, who +reported that the play "could not but exercise a good influence and +was entertaining withal ... We recommend the license to be issued and +commend the drama to all Good Templars." Therefore, the production was +not only well attended, but play and players were warmly received. The +town hall boasted a fairly commodious platform which now served the +purpose of a stage, and--noteworthy circumstance!--there were gas jets +for footlights, the illuminating fluid having at that early date been +introduced in several of the more progressive villages. Between the +acts, these yellow lights were turned low, and--running with the +current of popular desire--the orchestra, enlarged to four, played, by +special request, "The Old Oaken Bucket." + +The song had just sprung into popularity, and, in a moment, men, women +and children had added their voices to the instruments. It was not the +thrill of temperance fanaticism that stirred their hearts, but it was +the memories of the old pioneer home in the wilderness; the +rail-splitting, road-building days; the ancient rites of "raisings" +and other neighborly ceremonies; when the farmer cut rye with a +cradle, and threshed it out with his flail; when "butter and eggs were +pin money" and wheat paid the store-keeper. + +"How solemnly they take their amusements in the North, Mr. Barnes!" +exclaimed a voice in one of the entrances. "What a contrast to the +South--the wicked South!" + +The manager turned sharply. + +"We are mere servants of the public, Mr. Mauville." + +"And the public is master, Mr. Barnes! How the dramatic muse is +whipped around! In Greece, she was a goddess; in Rome, a hussy; in +England, a sprightly dame; now, a straight-laced Priscilla. But you +have a recruit, I see?" + +"You mean Saint-Prosper?" + +"Yes, and I can hardly blame him--under the circumstances!" murmured +the land baron, at the same time glancing around as though seeking +some one. + +"Circumstances! What circumstances?" demanded the manager. + +"Why, the pleasant company he finds himself in, of course," said the +visitor, easily. "Ah, I see Miss Carew," he added, his eye immediately +lightening, "and must congratulate her on her performance. Cursed +dusty hole, isn't it?" Brushing himself with his handkerchief as he +moved away. + +"What business has he behind the scenes anyway?" grumbled the +manager. "Dusty hole, indeed! Confound his impudence!" But his +attention being drawn to the pressing exigencies of a first night, +Barnes soon forgot his irritation over this unwarranted intrusion in +lowering a drop, hoisting a fly or readjusting a flat to his liking. + +The land baron meanwhile crossed to the semi-darkness at the rear of +the stage behind the boxed scene, where he had observed the young girl +waiting for the curtain to rise on the last act. A single light on +each side served partly to relieve the gloom; to indicate the +frame-work of the set scene and throw in shadow various articles +designed for use in the play. As she approached Mauville, who stood +motionless in an unlighted spot, the pale glow played upon her a +moment, white on her neck, in sheen on the folds of her gown, and then +she stepped into the shadow, where she was met by a tall figure, with +hand eagerly outstretched. + +"Mr. Mauville!" she exclaimed, drawing back at the suddenness of the +encounter. + +His restless eyes held hers, but his greeting was conventional. + +"Did I not say the world was small and that we might meet again?" + +"Of course, we are always meeting people and parting from them," she +replied unconcernedly. + +He laughed. "With what delightful indifference you say that! You did +not think to see me again?" + +"I hadn't thought about it," she answered, frankly, annoyed by his +persistence. + +"I am unfortunate!" he said. + +Beneath his free gaze she changed color, as though the shadow of a +rose had touched her face. + +"You are well?" he continued. + +"Yes." + +"I need not have asked." His expression conveyed more--so much more, +she bit her lip impatiently. "How do you like the new part?" + +"It is hard to tell yet," she answered evasively. + +"You would do justice to any rôle, but I prefer you in a historical or +romantic play, with the picturesque old costumes. If it were in my +domains, you should appear in those dramas, if I had to hang every +justice of the peace in the district." + +Her only response was a restless movement and he hastened to add: "I +fear, however, I am detaining you." + +He drew aside with such deference to permit her to pass that her +conscience smote her and she was half-minded to turn and leave him +more graciously, but this impulse was succeeded by another feeling, +ill-defined, the prevailing second thought. Had she looked, she would +have seen that her fluttering shawl touched his hand and he quickly +raised it to his lips, releasing it immediately. As it was, she moved +on, unaware of the gesture. The orchestra, or rather string quartet, +had ceased; Hans, a host in himself, a mountain of melody, bowed his +acknowledgments; the footlights glared, the din of voices subsiding; +and the curtain rose. + +Remaining in the background, the land baron watched the young girl +approach the entrance to the stage, where she stood, intent, one hand +resting against the scenery, her dress upheld with the other; the +glimmer from the footlights, reflected through the opening, touching +her face; suddenly, with a graceful movement, she vanished, and her +laughing voice seemed to come from afar. + +Was it for this he had made his hasty journey? To be treated with +indifference by a wandering player; he, the patroon, the unsuccessful +suitor of a stroller! She, who appeared in taverns, in barns, perhaps, +was as cold and proud as any fine lady, untroubled about the morrow, +and, as he weighed this phase of the matter, the land baron knew not +whether he loved her most for her beauty or hated her for the slight +she put upon him. But love or hate, it was all one, and he told +himself he would see the adventure to the end. + +"How do you do, Mr. Mauville?" said a gay but hushed voice, +interrupting his ruminations, and Susan, in a short skirt and bright +stockings, greeted him. + +"The better for seeing you, Mistress Susan." Nonchalantly surveying +her from head to foot. + +She bore his glance with the assurance of a pretty woman who knows she +is looking her best. + +"Pooh!" Curtesying disdainfully. "I don't believe you! You came to see +some one else. Well"--lightly--"she is already engrossed." + +"Really?" said the land baron. + +"Yes. You understand? He follows her with his every glance," she added +roguishly. Susan was never averse to straining the truth a little when +it served her purpose. + +"I should infer he was following her with more than his eyes," +retorted the master of the manor dryly. + +Susan tapped the stage viciously with a little foot. "She's a lovely +girl," she continued, drawing cabalistic figures with the provoking +slipper. + +"You are piqued?" he said, watching her skeptically. + +"Not at all." Quickly, startled by his blunt accusation. + +"Not a little jealous?" he persisted playfully. + +"Jealous?" Then with a frown, hesitatingly: "Well, she is given +prominence in the plays and--" + +"--You would not be subordinated, if she were not in the company? +Apart from this, you are fond of her?" + +The foot ceased its tracing and rested firmly on the floor. + +"I hate her!" snapped Susan, angered by this baiting. No sooner had +she spoken than she regretted her outburst. "How you draw one out! I +was only joking--though she does have the best parts and we take what +we can get!" + +"But she's a lovely girl!" concluded the land baron. Susan's eyes +flashed angrily. + +"How clever of you! You twist and turn one's words about and give +them a different meaning from what was intended. If I wanted to catch +you up--" + +"A truce!" he exclaimed. "Let us take each other seriously, hereafter. +Is it agreed?" She nodded. "Well, seriously, you can help me and help +yourself." + +"How?" doubtfully. + +"Why not be allies?" + +"What for?" + +"Mutual service." + +"Oh!" dubiously. + +"A woman's 'yes'!" + +"No," with affirmative answer in her eyes. + +He believed the latter. + +"We will seal the compact then." + +And he bent over and saluted Mistress Susan on the lips. She became as +rosy as the flowers she carried and tapped him playfully with them. + +"For shame! La! What must you think of me?" + +"That you are an angel." + +"How lovely! But I must go." + +"May I see you after the play?" + +"Yes." + +"Do not fail me, or the soldier will not transfer his affections to +you!" + +"If he dared!" And she shook her head defiantly as she tripped away. + +"Little fool!" murmured Mauville, his lips curling scornfully. "The +one is a pastime; the other"--he paused and caught his breath--"a +passion!" + +But he kept his appointment with Susan, escorting her to the hotel, +where he bade her good-night with a lingering pressure of the hand, +and--ordered his equipage to the door! + +"Hadn't you better wait until morning?" asked the surprised landlord, +when the young patroon announced his intention of taking an immediate +departure. "There are the barn-burners and--traveling at night--" + +"Have they turned footpads?" was the light reply. "Can't I drive +through my own lands? Let me see one of their thieving faces--" And he +made a significant gesture. "Not ride at night! These Jacobins shall +not prevent me." + +Barring the possible danger from the lease-holders who were +undoubtedly ripe for any mischief, the journey did not promise such +discomfiture as might have been expected, the coach being especially +constructed for night traveling. On such occasions, between the seats +the space was filled by a large cushion, adapted to the purpose, which +in this way converted the interior of the vehicle into a sleeping-room +of limited dimensions. With pillows to neutralize the jarring, the +land baron stretched himself indolently upon his couch, and gazed +through the window at the crystalline lights of the heavens, while +thoughts of lease-holders and barn-burners faded into thin air. + +At dawn, when he opened his eyes, the morning star yet gleamed with a +last pale luster. Raising himself on his elbow and looking out over +the country to learn his whereabouts, his eye fell upon a tree, +blood-red, a maple amid evergreens. Behind this somber community of +pines, stiff as a band of Puritan elders, surrounding the bright-hued +maple, a Hester in that austere congregation, appeared the glazed tile +roof of Little Thunder's habitation, a two-story abode of modest +proportions and olden type. As the land baron passed, a brindle cow in +the side yard saluted the morn, calling the sluggard from his couch, +but at the manor, which the patroon shortly reached, the ever wakeful +Oly-koeks was already engaged in chopping wood near the kitchen door. +The growling of the hound at his feet called the care-taker's +attention to the master's coming, and, driving the ax into an +obstinate stick of hickory, he donned his coat, drawing near the +vehicle, where he stood in stupid wonderment as the land baron +alighted. + +"Any callers, Oly-koeks?" carelessly asked the master. + +"A committee of barn-burners, Mynheer, to ask you not to serve any +more writs." + +"And so give them time to fight me with the lawmakers! But there; +carry my portmanteau into the library and"--as Oloffe's upper lip drew +back--"teach your dog to know me." + +"He belonged to the old master, Mynheer. When he died, the dog lay +near his grave day and night." + +"I dare say; like master, like dog! But fetch the portmanteau, you +Dutch varlet!" Entering the house, while the coachman drove the tired +horses toward the barn. "There's something in it I want. Bring it +here." As he passed into the library. "Yes; I put it in there, I am +sure. Ah, here we have it!" And unpacking the valise, he took +therefrom a handsome French writing case. + +"Thou Wily Limb of the Law," wrote the patroon, "be it known by these +presents, thou art summoned to appear before me! I have work for +you--not to serve any one with a writ; assign; bring an action, or any +of your rascally, pettifogging tricks! Send me no demurrer, but your +own intemperate self." + +Which epistle the patroon addressed to his legal satellite and +despatched by messenger. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER + + +Several bleak days were followed by a little June weather in October. +A somnolent influence rested everywhere. Above the undulation of land +on the horizon were the clouds, like heavenly hills, reflecting their +radiance on those earthly elevations. The celestial mountains and +valleys gave wondrous perspective to the outlook, and around them lay +an atmosphere, unreal and idyllic. + +On such a morning Susan stood at a turn in the road, gazing after a +departing vehicle with ill-concealed satisfaction and yet withal some +dubiousness. Now that the plan, suggested by Mauville, had not +miscarried, certain misgivings arose, for there is a conscience in the +culmination wanting in the conception of an act. As the partial +realization of the situation swept over her, she gave a gasp, and +then, the vehicle having meanwhile vanished, a desperate spirit of +bravado replaced her momentary apprehension. She even laughed +nervously as she waved her handkerchief in the direction the coach +had taken: "_Bon voyage!_" + +But as the words fell from the smiling lips, her eyes became +thoughtful and her hand fell to her side; it occurred to Susan she +would be obliged to divert suspicion from herself. The curling lips +straightened; she turned abruptly and hastened toward the town. But +her footsteps soon lagged and she paused thoughtfully. + +"If I reach the hotel too soon," she murmured, "they may overtake +him." + +So she stopped at the wayside, attracted by the brilliant cardinal +flowers, humming as she plucked them, but ever and anon glancing +around guiltily. The absurd thought came to her that the bright autumn +blossoms were red, the hue of sin, and she threw them on the sward, +and unconsciously rubbed her hands on her dress. + +Still she lingered, however, vaguely mindful she was adding to her +burden of ill-doing, but finally again started slowly toward the +village, hurrying as she approached the hotel, where she encountered +the soldier on the veranda. Her distressed countenance and haste +proclaimed her a messenger of disaster. + +"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Where is Mr. Barnes?" + +"What is the matter, Miss Duran?" Suspecting very little was the +matter, for Susan was nothing, if not all of a twitter. + +"Constance has been carried off!" + +"Carried off!" He regarded her as if he thought she had lost her +senses. + +"Yes; abducted!" + +"Abducted! By whom?" + +"I--I did not see his face!" she gasped. "And it is all my fault! +I asked her to take a walk! Oh, what shall I do?" Wringing her hands +in anguish that was half real. "We kept on and on--it was so +pleasant!--until we had passed far beyond the outskirts of the +village. At a turn in the road stood a coach--a cloak was thrown +over my head by some one behind--I must have fainted, and, when I +recovered, she was gone. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" + +"When did it happen?" As he spoke the young man left the veranda. +Grazing contentedly near the porch was his horse and Saint-Prosper's +hand now rested on the bridle. + +"I can't tell how long I was unconscious," said the seemingly +hysterical young woman, "but I hurried here as soon as I recovered +myself." + +"Where did it occur? Down the road you came?" + +"Ye-es." + +Saint-Prosper vaulted into the saddle. "Tell the manager to see a +magistrate," he said. + +"But you're not going to follow them alone?" began Susan. "Oh dear, I +feel quite faint again! If you would please help me into the--" + +By way of answer, the other touched his horse deeply with the spur and +the mettlesome animal reared and plunged, then, recalled by the sharp +voice of the rider, galloped wildly down the road. Susan observed the +sudden departure with mingled emotions. + +"How quixotic!" she thought discontentedly. "But he won't catch them," +came the consoling afterthought, as she turned to seek the manager. + +Soon the soldier, whose spirited dash down the main thoroughfare had +awakened some misgivings in the little town, was beyond the precincts +of village scrutiny. The country road was hard, although marked by +deep cuts from traffic during a rainy spell, and the horse's hoofs +rang out with exhilarating rhythm. Regardless of all save the distance +traversed, the rider yet forbore to press the pace, relaxing only +when, after a considerable interval, he came to another road and drew +rein at the fork. One way to the right ran gently through the valley, +apparently terminating in the luxuriant foliage, while the other, like +a winding, murky stream, stretched out over a more level tract of +land. + +Which thoroughfare had the coach taken? Dismounting, the young man +hastily examined the ground, but the earth was so dry and firm, and +the tracks of wheels so many, it was impossible to distinguish the old +marks from the new. Even sign-post there was none; the roads diverged, +and the soldier could but blindly surmise their destination, selecting +after some hesitation the thoroughfare running into the gorgeous, +autumnal painted forest. + +He had gone no inconsiderable distance when his doubts were abruptly +confirmed. Reaching an opening, bright as the chapel of a darkened +monastery, he discerned a farmer in a buckboard approaching from the +opposite direction. The swift pace of the rider and the leisurely jog +of the team soon brought them together. + +"Did you pass a coach down the road?" asked the soldier. + +"No-a," said the farmer, deliberately, as his fat horses instinctively +stood stock still; "didn't pass nobody." + +"Have you come far?" + +"A good ways." + +"You would have met a coach, if it had passed here an hour ago?" + +"I guess I would," said the man. "This road leads straight across the +country." + +"Where does the other road at the fork go?" + +"To the patroon village. There's a reform orator there to-day and a +barn-burners' camp-fire." + +Without waiting to thank his informant, Saint-Prosper pulled his horse +quickly around, while the man in the buckboard gradually got under +way, until he had once more attained a comfortable, slow gait. Indeed, +by the time his team had settled down to a sleepy jog, in keeping with +the dreamy haze, hanging upon the upland, his questioner was far down +the road. + +When, however, the soldier once more reached the fork, and took the +winding way across a more level country, he moderated his pace, +realizing the need of husbanding his horse's powers of endurance. +The country seemed at peace, as though no dissension nor heated +passions could exist within that pastoral province. And yet, not far +distant, lay the domains of the patroons, the hot-bed of the two +opposing branches of the Democratic party: The "hunkers," or +conservative-minded men, and the "barn-burners," or progressive +reformers, who sympathized with the anti-renters. + +After impatiently riding an hour or more through this delectable +region, the horseman drew near the patroon village, a cluster of +houses amid the hills and meadows. Here the land barons had originally +built for the tenants comfortable houses and ample barns, saw and +grist mills. But the old homes had crumbled away, and that rugged +ancestry of dwellings had been replaced by a new generation of houses, +with clapboards, staring green blinds and flimsy verandas. + +In the historic market place, as Saint-Prosper rode down the street, +were assembled a number of lease-holders of both sexes and all ages, +from the puny babe in arms to the decrepit crone and hoary grand-sire, +listening to the flowing tongue of a rustic speech-maker. This forum +of the people was shaded by a sextette of well-grown elms. The +platform of the local Demosthenes stood in a corner near the street. + +"'Woe to thee, O Moab! Thou art undone, O people of Chemosh,' if you +light not the torch of equal rights!" exclaimed the platform patterer +as Saint-Prosper drew near. "Awake, sons of the free soil! Now is the +time to make a stand! Forswear all allegiance to the new patroon; +this Southern libertine and despot from the land of slavery!" + +The grandam wagged her head approvingly; the patriarch stroked his +beard with acquiescence and strong men clenched their fists as the +spokesman mouthed their real or fancied wrongs. It was an earnest, +implacable crowd; men with lowering brows merely glanced at the +soldier as he rode forward; women gazed more intently, but were +quickly lured back by the tripping phrases of the mellifluous +speaker. + +On the outskirts of the gathering, near the road, stood a tall, +beetling individual whom Saint-Prosper addressed, reining in his horse +near the wooden rail, which answered for a fence. + +"Dinna ye ken I'm listening?" impatiently retorted the other, with a +fierce frown. "Gang your way, mon," he added, churlishly, as he turned +his back. + +Judging from the wrathful faces directed toward him, the lease-holders +esteemed Saint-Prosper a political disturber, affiliating with the +other faction of the Democratic party, and bent, perhaps, on creating +dissension at the tenants' camp-fire. The soldier's impatience and +anger were ready to leap forth at a word; he wheeled fiercely upon the +weedy Scot, to demand peremptorily the information so uncivilly +withheld, when a gust of wind blowing something light down the road +caused his horse to shy suddenly and the rider to glance at what had +frightened the animal. After a brief scrutiny, he dismounted quickly +and examined more attentively the object,--a pamphlet with a red +cover, upon which appeared the printed design of the conventional +Greek masks of Tragedy and Comedy, and beneath, the title, "The +Honeymoon." The bright binding, albeit soiled by the dusty road, and +the fluttering of the leaves in the breeze had startled the horse and +incidentally attracted the attention of his master. Across the somber +mask of melancholy was traced in buoyant hand the name of the young +actress. + +But the soldier needed not the confirmation, for had he not noticed +this same prompt book in her lap on the journey of the chariot? It was +a mute, but eloquent message. Could she have spoken more plainly if +she had written with ink and posted the missive with one of those new +bronze-hued portraits of Franklin, called stamps by the government and +"sticking plaster" by the people? Undoubtedly she had hoped the +manager was following her when she intrusted the message to that +erratic postman, Chance, who plied his vocation long before the black +Washington or the bronze Franklin was a talisman of more or less +uncertain delivery. + +The soldier, without a moment's hesitation, thrust the pamphlet inside +his coat, flung himself on his horse, and, turning from the +market-place, dashed down the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ECCENTRIC JAILER + + +"For a man who can't abide the sex, this _is_ a predicament," muttered +the patroon's jackal, as the coach in which he found himself sped +rapidly along the highway. "Here am I as much an abductor as my lord +who whipped his lady from England to the colonies!" Gloomily regarding +a motionless figure on the seat opposite, and a face like ivory +against the dark cushions. "Curse the story; telling it led to this! +How white she is; like driven snow; almost as if--" + +And Scroggs, whose countenance lost a shade of its natural flush, +going from flame-color to salmon hue, bent with sudden apprehension +over a small hand which hung from the seat. + +"No; it's only a swoon," he continued, relieved, feeling her wrist +with his knobby fingers. "How she struggled! If it hadn't been for +smothering her with the cloak--but the job's done and that's the end +of it." + +Settling back in his seat he watched her discontentedly, alternately +protesting against the adventure, and consoling himself weakly with the +remembrance of the retainer; weighing the risks, and the patroon's +ability to gloss over the matter; now finding the former unduly +obtrusive, again comforted with the assurance of the power pre-empted +by the land barons. Moreover, the task was half-accomplished, and it +would be idle to recede now. + +"Why couldn't the patroon have remained content with his bottle?" he +grumbled. "But his mind must needs run to this frivolous and +irrational proceeding! There's something reasonable in pilfering a +purse, but carrying off a woman--Yet she's a handsome baggage." + +Over the half-recumbent figure swept his glance, pausing as he +surveyed her face, across which flowed a tress of hair loosened in the +struggle. Save for the unusual pallor of her cheek, she might have +been sleeping, but as he watched her the lashes slowly lifted, and he +sullenly nerved himself for the encounter. At the aspect of those +bead-like eyes, resolute although ill at ease, like a snake striving +to charm an adversary, a tremor of half-recollection shone in her gaze +and the color flooded her face. Mechanically, sweeping back the +straggling lock of hair, she raised herself without removing her eyes. +He who had expected a tempest of tears shifted uneasily, even +irritably, from that steady stare, until, finding the silence +intolerable, he burst out: + +"Well, ma'am, am I a bugbear?" + +In her dazed condition she probably did not hear his words; or, if she +did, set no meaning to them, Her glance, however, strayed to the +narrow window, and then wandered back to the well-worn interior of the +coach. Suddenly, as the startling realization of her position came to +her, she uttered a loud cry, sprang toward the door, and, with nervous +fingers, strove to open it. The man's face became more rubicund as he +placed a detaining hand on her shoulder, and roughly thrust her toward +the seat. + +"Make the best of it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "You'd better, for +I'm not to be trifled with." + +Recoiling from his touch, she held herself aloof with such aversion, a +sneer crossed his face, and he observed glumly: + +"Oh, I'm not a viper! If you're put out, so am I." + +"Who are you?" she demanded, breathlessly. + +"That's an incriminating question, Ma'am," he replied. "In this case, +though, the witness has no objection to answering. I'm your humble +servant." + +His forced drollery was more obnoxious than his ill-humor, and, +awakening her impatience, restored in a measure her courage. He was +but a pitiful object, after all, with his flame-colored visage, and +short, crouching figure; and, as her thoughts passed from the brutal +part he had played on the road to her present situation, she exclaimed +with more anger than apprehension: + +"Perhaps you will tell me the meaning of this outrage--your smothering +me--forcing me into this coach--and driving away--where?" + +His face became once more downcast and moody. Driven into a corner by +her swift words, his glance met hers fairly; he drummed his fingers +together. + +"There's no occasion to show your temper, Miss," he said reflectively. +"I'm a bit touchy myself to-day; 'sudden and quick in quarrel.' You +see I know my Shakespeare, Ma'am. Let us talk about that great poet +and the parts you, as an actress, prefer--" + +"Can I get an answer from you?" she cried, subduing her dread. + +"What is it you asked?" + +"As if you did not know!" she returned, her lip trembling with +impatience and loathing. + +"Yes; I remember." Sharply. "You asked where we were driving? Across +the country. What is the meaning of this--outrage, I believe you +called it? All actions spring from two sources--Cupid and cupidity. +The rest of the riddle you'll have to guess." Gazing insolently into +her face, with his hands on his knees. + +"But you have told me nothing," she replied, striving to remain +mistress of herself and to hide her apprehension. + +"Do you call that nothing? You have the approximate cause--_causa +causans_. Was it Cupid? No, for like Bacon, your sex's 'fantastical' +charms move me not." + +This sally put him in better temper with himself. She was helpless, +and he experienced a churlish satisfaction in her condition. + +"What was it, then? Cupidity. Do you know what poverty is like in this +barren region?" he cried harshly. "The weapons of education only +unfit you for the plow. You stint, pinch, live on nothing!" He rubbed +his dry hands together. "It was crumbs and scraps under the +parsimonious régime; but now the prodigal has come into his own and +believes in honest wages and a merry life." + +Wonderingly she listened, the scene like a grotesque dream, with the +ever-moving coach, the lonely road, the dark woods, and--so near, she +could almost place her hand upon him--this man, muttering and +mumbling. He had offered her the key of the mystery, but she had +failed to use it. His ambiguous, loose talk, only perplexed and +alarmed her; the explanation was none at all. + +As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, weighing doubt and +uncertainty, new ideas assailed him. After all she had spirit, +courage! Moreover, she was an actress, and the patroon was madly in +love with her. + +"If we were only leagued together, how we could strip him!" he +thought. + +His head dropped contemplatively to his breast, and for a long +interval he remained silent, abstracted, while the old springless +coach, with many a jolt and jar, covered mile after mile; up the +hills, crowned with bush and timber; across the table land; over the +plank bridges spanning the brooks and rivulets. More reconciled to +his part and her presence, his lips once or twice parted as if he +were about to speak, but closed again. He even smiled, showing his +amber-hued teeth, nodding his head in a friendly fashion, as to +say: "It'll come out all right, Madam; all right for both of us!" +Which, indeed, was his thought. She believed him unsettled, bereft +of reason, and, although, he was manifestly growing less hostile, +his surveillance became almost unbearable. At every moment she felt +him regarding her like a lynx, and endeavored therefore to keep +perfectly still. What would her strange warder do next? It was not an +alarming act, however. He consulted a massive watch, remarking: + +"It's lunch time and over! With your permission, I'll take a bite and +a drop. Will you join me?" + +She turned her head away, and, not disconcerted by her curt refusal, +he drew a wicker box from beneath a seat and opened it. His reference +to a "bite and a drop" was obviously figurative, especially the +"drop," which grew to the dimensions of a pint, which he swallowed +quickly. Perhaps the flavor of the wine made him less attentive to his +prisoner, for as he lifted the receptacle to his lips, she thrust her +arms through the window and a play book dropped from her hand, a +possible clue for any one who might follow the coach. For some time +she had been awaiting this opportunity and when it came, the carriage +was entering a village. + +Scroggs finished his cup. "You see, we're provided for," he began. +Here the bottle fell from his hand. + +"The patroon village!" he exclaimed in consternation. "I'd forgotten +we were so close! And they're all gathered in the square, too!" + +He cast a quick glance at her. "You're all ready to call for help," he +sneered, "but I'm not ready to part company yet." + +Hastily drawing up one of the wooden shutters, he placed himself near +the other window, observing fiercely; "I don't propose you shall undo +what's being done for you. Let me hear from you"--jerking his finger +toward the square--"and I'll not answer for what I'll do." But in +spite of his admonition he read such determination in her eyes, he +felt himself baffled. + +"You intend to make trouble!" he cried. And putting his head suddenly +through the window, he called to the driver: "Whip the horses through +the market place!" + +As the affrighted animals sprang forward he blocked the window, +placing one hand on her shoulder. He felt her escape from his grasp, +but not daring to leave his post, he leaned out of the window when +they were opposite the square, and shook his fist at the anti-renters, +exclaiming: + +"I'll arrest every mother's son of you! I'll evict you--jail you for +stealing rent!" + +Drowned by the answering uproar, "The patroon's dog!" "Bullets for +deputies!" the emissary of the land baron continued to threaten the +throng with his fist, until well out of ear-shot, and, thanks to the +level road, beyond reach of their resentment. Not that they strove to +follow him far, for they thought the jackal had taken leave of his +senses. Laughter mingled with their jeers at the absurd figure he +presented, fulminating and flying at the same time. But there was no +defiance left in him when they were beyond the village, and he fell +back into his seat, his face now ash-colored. + +"If they'd stopped us my life wouldn't have been worth the asking," he +muttered hoarsely. "But I did it!" Triumphantly gazing at the young +girl who, trembling with excitement, leaned against the side of the +coach. "I see you managed to get down the shutter. I hope you heard +your own voice. I didn't; and, what's more, I'm sure they didn't!" + +With fingers he could hardly control he opened a second bottle, +dispensed with the formality of a glass, and set the neck to his lips, +repeating the operation until it was empty, when he tossed it out of +the window to be shattered against a rock, after which he sank again +into a semblance of meditation. + +Disappointed over her ineffectual efforts, overcome by the strain, the +young girl for the time relaxed all further attempt. Unseen, unheard, +she had stood at her window! She had tried to open the door, but it +resisted her frantic efforts, and then the din had died away and left +her weak, powerless, hardly conscious of the hateful voice of her +companion from time to time addressing her. + +But fortunately he preferred the gross practice of draining the cup to +the fine art of conversation. Left to the poor company of her +thoughts, she dwelt upon the miscarriage of her design, and the +slender chance of assistance. They would probably pass through no +more villages and if they did, he would undoubtedly find means to +prevent her making herself known. Unless--and a glimmer of hope +flickered through her thoughts!--her warder carried his potations to a +point where vigilance ceased to be a virtue. Inconsiderately he +stopped at the crucial juncture, with all the signs of contentment and +none of drowsiness. + +So minutes resolved themselves into hours and the day wore on. +Watching the sun-rays bathe the top of the forest below them, she +noted how fast the silver disk was descending. The day which had +seemed interminable now appeared but too short, and she would gladly +have recalled those fleeting hours. Ignorant of the direction in which +they had been traveling, she realized that the driver had been +unsparing and the distance covered not inconsiderable. The mystery of +the assault, the obscurity of the purpose and the vagueness of their +destination were unknown quantities which, added to the declining of +the day and the brewing terrors of the night, were well calculated to +terrify and crush her. + +Despairingly, she observed how the sun dipped, and ever dipped toward +the west, when suddenly a sound afar rekindled her fainting spirits. +Listening more attentively, she was assured imagination had not +deceived her; it was the faint patter of a horse's hoofs. Nearer it +drew; quicker beat her pulses. Moreover, it was the rat-a-tat of +galloping. Some one was pursuing the coach on horseback. Impatient to +glance behind, she only refrained for prudential reasons. + +Immersed in his own grape-vine castle her jailer was unmindful of the +approaching rider, and she turned her face from him that he might not +read her exultation. Closer resounded the beating hoofs, but her +impatience outstripped the pursuer, and she was almost impelled to +rush to the window. + +Who was the horseman? Was it Barnes? Saint-Prosper? The latter's name +had quickly suggested itself to her. + +Although the rider, whoever he might be, continued to gain ground, to +her companion, the approaching clatter was inseparable from the noise +of the vehicle, and it was not until the horseman was nearly abreast, +and the cadence of the galloping resolved itself into clangor, that +the dreamer awoke with an imprecation. As he sprang to his feet, thus +rudely disturbed, a figure on horseback dashed by and a stern voice +called to the driver: + +"Stop the coach!" + +Probably the command was given over the persuasive point of a weapon, +for the animals were drawn up with a quick jerk and came to a +standstill in the middle of the road. Menacing and abusive, as the +vehicle stopped, the warder's hand sought one of his pockets, when the +young girl impetuously caught his arm, clinging to it tenaciously. + +"Quick!--Mr. Saint-Prosper!" she cried, recognizing, as she thought, +the voice of the soldier. + +"You wild-cat!" her jailer exclaimed, struggling to throw her off. + +Not succeeding, he raised his free arm in a flurry of invective. + +"Curse you, will you let go!" + +"Quick! Quick!" she called out, holding him more tightly. + +A flood of Billingsgate flowed from his lips. "Let go, or--" + +But before he could in his blind passion strike her or otherwise vent +his rage, a revolver was clapped to his face through the window, and, +with a look of surprise and terror, his valor oozing from him, he +crouched back on the cushions. At the same time the carriage door was +thrown open, and Edward Mauville, the patroon, stood in the entrance! + +Only an instant his eyes swept her, observing the flushed cheeks and +disordered attire, leading her wonder at his unexpected appearance, +and--to his satisfaction!--her relief as well; only an instant, during +which the warder stared at him open-mouthed--and then his glance +rested on the now thoroughly sober limb of the law. + +"Get out!" he said, briefly and harshly. + +"But," began the other with a sickly grin, intended to be ingratiating, +"I don't understand--this unexpected manner--this forcible departure +from--" + +Coolly raising his weapon, the patroon deliberately covered the +hapless jailer, who unceremoniously scrambled out of the door. The +land baron laughed, replaced his revolver and, turning to the young +girl, removed his hat. + +"It was fortunate, Miss Carew, I happened along," he said gravely. +"With your permission, I will get in. You can tell me what has +happened as we drive along. The manor house, my temporary home, is not +far from here. If I can be of any service, command me!" + +The jackal saw the patroon spring into the carriage, having fastened +his horse behind, and drive off. Until the vehicle had disappeared, he +stood motionless in the road, but when it had passed from sight, he +seated himself on a stone. + +"That comes from mixing the breed!" he muttered. "Dramatic effect, _à +la France_!" He wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Well, I'm three +miles from my humble habitation, but I'd rather walk than ride--under +some circumstances!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER + + +The afternoon was waning; against the golden western sky the old manor +house loomed in solemn majesty, the fields and forests emphasizing its +isolation in the darkening hour of sunset, as a coach, with jaded +horses, passed through the avenue of trees and approached the broad +portico. A great string of trailing vine had been torn from the walls +by the wind and now waved mournfully to and fro with no hand to adjust +it. In the rear was a huge-timbered barn, the door of which was +unfastened, swinging on its rusty hinges with a creaking and moaning +sound. + +As gaily as in the days when the periwigged coachman had driven the +elaborate equipage of the early patroons through the wrought-iron gate +this modern descendant entered the historic portals, not to be met, +however, by servitors in knee breeches at the front door, but by the +solitary care-taker who appeared on the portico in considerable +disorder and evident state of excitement, accompanied by the shaggy +dog, Oloffe. + +"The deputies shot two of the tenants to-day," hurriedly exclaimed the +guardian of the place, without noticing Mauville's companion. "The +farmers fired upon them; they replied, and one of the tenants is +dead." + +"A good lesson for them, since they were the aggressors," cried the +heir, as he sprang from the coach. "But you have startled the lady." + +An exclamation from the vehicle in an unmistakably feminine voice +caused the "_wacht-meester_" now to observe the occupant for the first +time and the servant threw up his hands in consternation. Here was a +master who drank all night, shot his tenants by proxy, visited +strollers, and now brought one of them to the _steyn_. That the +strange lady was a player, Oly-koeks immediately made up his mind, and +he viewed her with mingled aversion and fear, as the early settlers +regarded sorcerers and witches. She was very beautiful, he observed in +that quick glance, but therefore the more dangerous; she appeared +distressed, but he attributed her apparent grief to artfulness. He at +once saw a new source of trouble in her presence; as though the +threads were not already sufficiently entangled, without the +introduction of a woman--and she a public performer!--into the +complicated mesh! + +"Fasten the iron shutters of the house," briefly commanded Mauville, +breaking in upon the servant's painful reverie. "Then help this man +change the horses and put in the grays." + +Oly-koeks, with a final deprecatory glance at the coach, expressive +of his estimate of his master's light conduct and his apprehension of +the outcome, disappeared to obey this order. + +"May I assist you, Miss Carew?" said the land baron deferentially, +offering his arm to the young girl, whose pale but observant face +disclosed new demur and inquiry. + +"But you said we would go right on?" she returned, drawing back with +implied dissent. + +"When the horses are changed! If you will step out, the carriage will +be driven to the barn." + +Reluctantly she obeyed, and as she did so, the patroon and the +coachman exchanged pithy glances. + +"Look sharp!" commanded the master, sternly. "Oh, he won't run away," +added Mauville quickly, in answer to her look of surprise. "He knows I +could find him, and"--fingering his revolver--"will not disoblige me. +Later we'll hear the rogue's story." + +The man's averted countenance smothered a clandestine smile, as he +touched the horses with his whip and turned them toward the barn, +leaving the patroon and his companion alone on the broad portico. +Sweeping from a distant grove of slender poplars and snowy birch a +breeze bore down upon them, suddenly bleak and frosty, and she +shivered in the nipping air. + +"You are chilled!" he cried. "If you would but go into the house while +we are waiting! Indeed, if you do not, I shall wonder how I have +offended you! It will be something to remember"--half lightly, half +seriously--"that you have crossed my threshold!" + +He stood at the door, with such an undissembled smile, his accents so +regretful, that after a moment's hesitation, Constance entered, +followed by the patroon. Sweeping aside the heavy draperies from the +window, he permitted the golden shafts of the ebbing day to enter the +hall, gleaming on the polished floors, the wainscoting and the +furniture, faintly illuminating the faded pictures and weirdly +revealing the turnings of the massive stairway. No wonder a +half-shudder of apprehension seized the young actress in spite of her +self-reliance and courage, as she entered the solemn and mournful +place, where past grandeur offered nothing save morbid memories and +where the frailty of existence was significantly written! After that +Indian summer day the sun was sinking, angry and fiery, as though +presaging a speedy reform in the vagaries of the season and an +immediate return to the legitimate surroundings of October. + +Involuntarily the girl moved to the window, where the light rested on +her brown tresses, and as Mauville watched that radiance, shifting and +changing, her hair alight with mystic color, the passion that had +prompted him to this end was stirred anew, dissipating any intrusive +doubts. The veering and flickering sheen seemed but a web of +entangling irradiation. A span of silence became an interminable +period to her, with no sight of fresh horses nor sign of preparation +for the home journey. + +"What takes him so long?" she said, finally, with impatience. "It is +getting so late!" + +"It is late," he answered. "Almost too late to go on! You are weary +and worn. Why not rest here to-night?" + +"Rest here?" she repeated, with a start of surprise. + +"You are not fit to drive farther. To-morrow we can return." + +"To-morrow!" she cried. "But--what do you mean?" + +"That I must insist upon your sparing yourself!" he said, firmly, +although a red spot flushed his cheek. + +"No; no! We must leave at once!" she answered. + +He smiled reassuringly. "Why will you not have confidence in me?" he +asked. "You have not the strength to travel all night--over a rough +road--after such a trying day. For your own sake, I beg you to give up +the idea. Here you are perfectly safe and may rest undisturbed." + +"Please call the horses at once!" + +An impatient expression furrowed his brow. He had relied on easily +prevailing upon her through her gratitude; continuing in his +disinterested rôle for yet some time; resuming the journey on the +morrow, carrying her farther away under pretext of mistaking the road, +until--Here his plans had faded into a vague perspective, dominated by +unreasoning self-confidence and egotism. + +But her words threatened a rupture at the outset that would seriously +alter the status of the adventure. + +"It is a mistake to go on to-night," he said, with a dissenting +gesture. "However, if you are determined--" And Mauville stepped to +the window. "Why, the carriage is not there!" he exclaimed, looking +out. + +"Not there!" she repeated, incredulously. "You told them to change the +horses. Why--" + +"I don't understand," returned the land baron, with an effort to make +his voice surprised and concerned. "He may--Hello-a, there! +You!--Oly-koeks!" he called out, interrupting his own explanation. + +Not Oly-koeks, but the driver's face, appeared from behind the barn +door, and, gazing through the window, the young girl, with a start, +suddenly realized that she had seen him not for the first time that +day--but where?--when? Through the growing perplexity of her thoughts +she heard the voice of her companion + +"Why don't you hitch up the grays?" + +"There are no horses in the barn," came the answer. + +"Strange, the care-taker did not tell me they had been taken away!" +commented the other, hastily, stepping from the window as the driver +vanished once more into the barn. "I am sorry, but there seems no +alternative but to wait--at least, until I can send for others." + +She continued to gaze toward the door through which the man had +disappeared. She could place him now, although his livery had been +discarded for shabby clothes; she recalled him distinctly in spite of +this changed appearance. + +"Why not make the best of it?" said Mauville, softly, but with glance +sparkling in spite of himself. "After all, are you not giving yourself +needless apprehensions? You are at home here. Anything you wish shall +be yours. Consider yourself mistress; me, one of your servants!" + +Almost imperceptibly his manner had changed. Instinctive misgivings +which had assailed her in the coach with him now resolved themselves +into assured fears. Something she could not explain had aroused her +suspicions before they reached the manor, but his words had +glossed these inward qualms, and a feeling of obligation suggested +trust, not shrinking; but, with his last words, a full light illumined +her faculties; an association of ideas revealed his intent and +performance. + +"It was you, then," she said, slowly, studying him with steady, +penetrating glance. + +"You!" she repeated, with such contempt that he was momentarily +disconcerted. "The man in the carriage--he was hired by you. The +driver--his face is familiar. I remember now where I saw him--in the +Shadengo Valley. He is your coachman. Your rescue was planned to +deceive me. It deceived even your man. He had not expected that. Your +reassuring me was false; the plan to change horses a trick to get me +here--" + +"If you would but listen--" + +"When"--her eyes ablaze--"will this farce end?" + +Her words took him unawares. Not that he dreaded the betrayal of his +actual purpose. On the contrary, his reckless temper, chafing under +her unexpected obduracy, now welcomed the opportunity of discarding +the disinterested and chivalrous part he had assumed. + +"When it ends in a honeymoon, _ma belle_ Constance!" he said, +swiftly. + +His sudden words, removing all doubts as to his purpose, awoke such +repugnance in her that for a moment aversion was paramount to every +other feeling. Again she looked without, but only the solitude of the +fields and forests met her glance. + +The remoteness of the situation gave the very boldness of his plan +feasibility. Was he not his own magistrate in his own province? Why, +then, he had thought, waste the golden moments? He had but one heed +now; a study of physical beauty, against a crimson background. + +"To think of such loveliness lost in the wilderness!" he said, softly. +"The gates of art should all open to you. Why should you play to +rustic bumpkins, when the world of fashion would gladly receive you? I +am a poor prophet if you would not be a success in town. It is not +always easy to get a hearing, to procure an audience, but means could +be found. Soon your name would be on every one's lips. Your art is +fresh. The jaded world likes freshness. The cynical town runs to +artless art as an antidote to its own poison. Most of the players are +wrinkled and worn. A young face will seem like a new-grown white +rose." + +She did not answer; unresponsive as a statue, she did not move. The +sun shot beneath an obstructing branch, and long, searching shafts +found access to the room. Mauville moved forward impetuously, until he +stood on the verge of the sunlight on the satinwood floor. + +"May I not devote myself to this cause, Constance?" he continued. "You +are naturally resentful toward me now. But can I not show you that I +have your welfare at heart? If you were as ambitious as you are +attractive, what might you not do? Art is long; our days are short; +youth flies like a summer day." + +His glance sought hers questioningly; still no reply; only a wave of +blood surged over her neck and brow, while her eyes fell. Then the +glow receded, leaving her white as a snow image. + +"Come," he urged. "May I not find for you those opportunities?" + +He put out his eager hand as if to touch her. Then suddenly the figure +in the window came to life and shrank back, with widely opened eyes +fixed upon his face. His gaze could not withstand hers, man of the +world though he was, and his free manner was replaced by something +resembling momentary embarrassment. Conscious of this new and annoying +feeling, his egotism rose in arms, as if protesting against the novel +sensation, and his next words were correspondingly violent. + +"Put off your stage manners!" he exclaimed. "You are here at my +pleasure. It was no whim, my carrying you off. After you left I went +to the manor, where I tried to forget you. But nights of revelry--why +should I not confess it?--could not efface your memory." His voice +unconsciously sank to unreserved candor. "Your presence filled these +halls. I could no longer say: Why should I trouble myself about one +who has no thought for me?" + +Breathing hard, he paused, gazing beyond her, as though renewing the +memories of that period. + +"Learning you were in the neighboring town," he continued, "I went +there, with no further purpose than to see you. On the journey perhaps +I indulged in foolish fancies. How would you receive me? Would you be +pleased; annoyed? So I tempted my fancy with air-castles like the most +unsophisticated lover. But you had no word of welcome; scarcely +listened to me, and hurried away! I could not win you as I desired; +the next best way was this." + +He concluded with an impassioned gesture, his gaze eagerly seeking the +first sign of lenity or favor on her part, but his confession seemed +futile. Her eyes, suggestive of tender possibilities, expressed now +but coldness and obduracy. In a revulsion of feeling he forgot the +distance separating the buskined from the fashionable world; the +tragic scatterlings from the conventions of Vanity Fair! He forgot all +save that she was to him now the one unparagoned entirety, overriding +other memories. + +"Will not a life of devotion atone for this day, Constance?" he cried. +"Do you know how far-reaching are these lands? All the afternoon you +drove through them, and they extend as wide in the other direction. +These--my name--are yours!" + +A shade of color swept over her brow. + +"Answer me," he urged. + +"Drive back and I will answer you." + +"Drive back and you will laugh at me," he retorted, moodily. "You +would make a woman's bargain with me." + +"Is yours a man's with me?" Contemptuously. + +"What more can I do?" + +"Undo what you have done. Take me back!" + +"I would cut a nice figure doing that! No; you shall stay here." + +He spoke angrily; her disdain at his proposal not only injured his +pride but awoke his animosity. On the other hand, his words +demonstrated she had not improved her own position. If he meant to +keep her there he could do so, and opposition made him only more +obstinate, more determined to press his advantage. Had she been more +politic--Juliana off the stage as well as on--she, whose artifice was +glossed by artlessness-- + +Her lashes drooped; her attitude became less aggressive; her eyes, +from beneath their dark curtains, rested on him for a moment. What it +was in that glance so effective is not susceptible to analysis. Was it +the appeal that awakened the quixotic sense of honor; the helplessness +arousing compassion; the irresistible quality of a brimming eye so +fatal to masculine calculation and positiveness? Whatever it was, it +dispelled the contraction on the land baron's face, and--despite his +threats, vows!--he was swayed by a look. + +"Forgive me," he said, tenderly. + +"You will drive back?" + +"Yes; I will win you in your own way, fairly and honestly! I will take +you back, though the whole country laughs at me. Win or lose, back we +go, for--I love you!" And impetuously he threw his arm around her +waist. + +Simulation could not stand the test; it was no longer acting, but +reality; she had set herself to a rôle she could not perform. Hating +him for that free touch, she forcibly extricated herself with an +exclamation and an expression of countenance there was no mistaking. +From Mauville's face the glad light died; he regarded her once more +cruelly, vindictively. + +"You dropped the mask too soon," he said, coldly. "I was not prepared +for rehearsal, although you were perfect. You are even a better +actress than I thought you, than which"--mockingly--"I can pay you no +better compliment." + +She looked at him with such scorn he laughed, though his eyes +flashed. + +"Bravo!" he exclaimed. + +While thus confronting each other a footfall sounded without, the door +burst open, and the driver of the coach, with features drawn by fear, +unceremoniously entered the room. The patroon turned on him enraged, +but the latter without noticing his master's displeasure, exclaimed +hurriedly: + +"The anti-renters are coming!" + +The actress uttered a slight cry and stepped toward the window, when +she was drawn back by an irresistible force. + +"Pardon me," said a hard voice, from which all passing compunction had +vanished. "Be kind enough to come with me." + +"I will follow you, but--" Her face expressed the rest. + +"This way then!" + +He released her and together they mounted the stairway. For a long +time a gentle footfall had not passed those various landings; not +since the ladies in hoops, with powdered hair, had ascended or +descended, with attendant cavaliers, bewigged, beruffled, bedizened. +The land baron conducted his companion to a distant room up stairs, +the door of which he threw open. + +"Go in there," he said curtly. + +She hesitated on the threshold. So remote was it from the main part of +the great manor, the apartment had all the requirements of a prison. + +"You needn't fear," he continued, reading her thoughts. "I'm not going +to be separated from you--yet! But we can see what is going on here." + +Again she mutely obeyed him, and entered the room. It was a commodious +apartment, where an excellent view was offered of the surrounding +country on three sides. But looking from the window to discern his +assailants, Mauville could see nothing save the fields and openings, +fringed by the dark groves. The out-houses and barns were but dimly +outlined, while scattered trees here and there dotted the open spaces +with small, dark patches. A single streak of red yet lingered in the +west. A tiny spot, moving through the obscurity, proved to be a cow, +peacefully wandering over the dewy grass. The whirring sound of a +diving night-hawk gave evidence that a thing of life was inspecting +the scene from a higher point of vantage. + +From that narrow, dark crimson ribbon, left behind by the flaunting +sun, a faint reflection entered the great open windows of the chamber +and revealed Mauville gazing without, pistol in hand; Constance +leaning against the curtains and the driver of the coach standing in +the center of the room, quaking inwardly and shaking outwardly. This +last-named had found an old blunderbuss somewhere, useful once +undoubtedly, but of questionable service now. + +Meanwhile Oly-koeks had not returned. Having faithfully closed and +locked all the iron shutters, he had crept out of a cellar window and +voluntarily resigned as care-taker of the manor, with its burden of +dangers and vexations. With characteristic prudence, he had timed the +period of his departure with the beginning of the end in the fortunes +of the old patroon principality. The storm-cloud, gathering during the +life of Mauville's predecessor, was now ready to burst, the impending +catastrophe hastened by the heir's want of discretion and his failure +to adjust difficulties amicably. That small shadow, followed by a +smaller shadow, passing through the field, were none other than +Oly-koeks and Oloffe, who grew more and more imperceptible until they +were finally swallowed up and seemingly lost forever in the darkness +of the fringe of the forest. + +A branch of a tree grated against the window as Mauville looked out +over the peaceful vale to the ribbon of red that was being slowly +withdrawn as by some mysterious hand. Gradually this adornment, +growing shorter and shorter, was wound up while the shadows of the +out-houses became deeper and the meadow lands appeared to recede in +the distance. As he scanned the surrounding garden, the land baron's +eye fell upon an indistinct figure stealing slowly across the sward in +the partial darkness. This object was immediately followed by another +and yet another. To the observer's surprise they wore the headgear of +Indians. + +Suddenly the patroon heard the note of the whippoorwill, the nocturnal +songster that mourns unseen. It was succeeded by the sharp tones of a +saw-whet and the distinct mew of a cat-bird. A wild pigeon began to +coo softly in another direction and was answered by a thrush. The +listener vaguely realized that all this unexpected melody came from +the Indians, who had by this time surrounded the house and who took +this method of communicating with one another. + +An interval of portentous silence was followed by a loud knocking at +the front door, which din reverberated through the hall, echoing and +re-echoing the vigorous summons. Mauville at this leaned from the +window and as he did so, there arose a hooting from the sward as +though bedlam had broken loose. Maintaining his post, the heir called +out: + +"What do you want, men?" + +At these words the demonstration became more turbulent, and, amid the +threatening hubbub, voices arose, showing too well the purpose of the +gathering. Aroused to a fever of excitement by the shooting of the +tenants, they were no longer skulking, stealthy Indians, but a riotous +assemblage of anti-renters, expressing their determination in an +ominous chorus: + +"Hang the land baron!" + +In the midst of this far from reassuring uproar a voice arose like a +trumpet: + +"We are the messengers of the Lord, made strong by His wrath!" + +"You are the messenger of the devil, Little Thunder," Mauville shouted +derisively. + +A crack of a rifle admonished the land baron that the jest might have +cost him dear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR + + +After this brief hostile outbreak in the garden below the right wing, +Mauville prepared to make as effective defense as lay in his power and +looked around for his aid, the driver of the coach. But that quaking +individual had taken advantage of the excitement to disappear. Upon +hearing the threats, followed by the singing of bullets, and doubting +not the same treatment accorded the master would be meted out to the +servant, the coachman's fealty so oozed from him that he dropped his +blunderbuss, groping his way through the long halls to the cellar, +where he concealed himself in an out-of-the-way corner beneath a heap +of potato sacks. In that vast subterranean place he congratulated +himself he would escape with a whole skin, his only regret being +certain unpaid wages which he considered as good as lost, together +with the master who owed them. + +Mauville, however, would have little regretted the disappearance of +this poor-spirited aid, on the theory a craven follower is worse than +none at all, had not this discovery been followed quickly by the +realization that the young girl, too, had availed herself of the +opportunity while he was at the window and vanished. + +"Why, the slippery jade's gone!" he exclaimed, staring around the +room, confounded for the moment. Then recovering himself, he hurriedly +left the chamber, more apprehensive lest she should get out of the +manor than that the tenants should get in. + +"She can't be far off," he thought, pausing doubtfully in the hall. + +For the moment he almost forgot the anti-renters and determined to +find her at all hazard. He hastily traversed the upper hall, but was +rewarded with no sight of her. He gazed down the stairs eagerly, with +no better result; the front door was still closed, as he had left it. +Evidently she had fled toward the rear of the house and made good her +escape from one of the back or side entrances. + +"Yes; she's gone," he repeated. "What a fool I was to have trusted her +to herself for a moment!" + +A new misgiving arose, and he started. What if she had succeeded in +leaving the manor? He knew and distrusted Little Thunder and his +cohorts. What respect would they have for her? For all he had done, it +was, nevertheless, intolerable to think she might be in possible +danger--from others save himself! A wave of compunction swept over +him. After all, he loved her, and, loving her, could not bear to think +of any calamity befalling her. He hated her for tricking him; feared +for her, for the pass to which he had brought her; cared for her +beyond the point his liking had reached for any other woman. A +mirthless laugh escaped him as he stood at the stairway looking down +the empty hall. + +"Surely I've gone daft over the stroller!" he thought, as his own +position recurred to him in all its seriousness. "Well, what's done is +done! Let them come!" His eyes gleamed. + +With no definite purpose of searching further, he nevertheless walked +mechanically down the corridor toward the other side of the manor and +suddenly, to his surprise and satisfaction, discerned Constance in a +blind passage, where she had inadvertently fled. + +At the end of this narrow hall a window looked almost directly out +upon the circular, brick dove-cote, now an indistinct outline, and on +both sides were doors, one of which she was vainly endeavoring to open +when he approached. Immediately she desisted in her efforts; flushed +and panting, she stood in the dim light of the passage. Quiet, +unbroken save for the cooing in the cote, had succeeded the first +noisy demonstration; the anti-renters were evidently arranging their +forces to prevent the land baron's escape or planning an assault on +the manor. + +In his momentary satisfaction at finding her, Mauville overlooked the +near prospect of a more lengthy, if not final, separation, and +surveyed the young girl with a sudden, swift joyousness, but the fear +and distrust written on her features dissipated his concern for her; +his best impulses were smothered by harsher feelings. + +"Unfortunately, the door is locked," he said, ironically. "Meanwhile, +as this spot has no strategic advantages, suppose we change our base +of defense?" + +Realizing how futile would be resistance, she accompanied him once +more to the chamber in the wing, where he had determined to make his +last defense. After closing and locking the door, he lighted one of +many candles on the mantel. The uncertain glow from the great +candelabra, covered with dust, like the white marble itself, and +evidently placed there many years before, revealed faded decorations +and a ceiling, water-stained as from a defective roof. Between the +windows, with flowery gilt details, an ancient mirror extended from +floor to ceiling. A musty smell pervaded the apartment, for Mynheer, +the Patroon, had lived so closely to himself that he had shut out both +air and sunlight from his rooms. + +The flickering glare fell upon the young actress standing, hand upon +her heart, listening with bated breath, and Mauville, with ominous +expression, brooding over that chance which sent the lease-holders to +the manor on that night of nights. It was intolerable that no sooner +had she crossed his threshold than they should appear, ripe for any +mischief, not only seeking his life, but wresting happiness from his +very lips. For, of the outcome he could have little doubt, although +determined to sell dearly that which they sought. + +The violent crash of a heavy body at the front of the house and a +tumult of voices on the porch, succeeded by a din in the hall, announced +that the first barrier had been overcome and the anti-renters were in +possession of the lower floor of the manor. Mauville had started toward +the door, when the anticipation in the young girl's eyes held him to +the spot. Inaccessible, she was the more desired; her reserve was +fuel to his flame, and, at that moment, while his life hung in the +balance, he forgot the rebuff he had received and how she had nearly +played upon him. + +Words fell from his lips, unpremeditated, eloquent, voicing those +desires which had grown in the solitude of the manor. Passionately he +addressed her, knowing the climax to his difficulties was at hand. +Once near her, he could not be at peace without her, he vowed, and +this outcome had been inevitable. All this he uttered impetuously, at +times incoherently, but as he concluded, she only clasped her hands +helplessly, solely conscious of the uproar below which spread from the +main hall to the adjoining rooms. + +"They are coming--they are coming!" she said, and Mauville stopped +short. + +But while anger and resentment were at strife within him, some one +tried the door of the chamber and finding it locked, set up a shout. +Immediately the prowlers in the wings, the searchers in the kitchen +and all the stragglers below congregated in the main hall; footsteps +were heard ascending rapidly, pausing in doubt at the head of the +stairway, not knowing whether to turn to the right or to the left. + +"Here they are!" called out the man at the door. + +"You meddlesome fool!" exclaimed Mauville, lifting a revolver and +discharging it in the direction of the voice. Evidently the bullet, +passing through the panel of the door, found its mark, for the report +was followed by a cry of pain. + +This plaint was answered from the distance and soon a number of +anti-renters hastened to the spot. Mauville, in vicious humor, moved +toward the threshold. One of the panels was already broken and an arm +thrust into the opening. The land baron bent forward and coolly +clapped his weapon to the member, the loud discharge being succeeded +by a howl from the wounded lease-holder. Mauville again raised his +weapon when an exclamation from the actress caused him to turn +quickly, in time to see a figure spring unexpectedly into the room +from the balcony. The land baron stood in amazement, eying the +intruder who had appeared so suddenly from an unguarded quarter, but +before he could recover his self-possession, his hand was struck +heavily and the revolver fell with a clatter to the floor. + +His assailant quickly grasped the weapon, presenting it to the breast +of the surprised land-owner, who looked, not into the face of an +unknown anti-renter, but into the stern, familiar countenance of +Saint-Prosper. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A HASTY EXIT + + +The afternoon following the soldier's departure from the patroon +village went by all too slowly, his jaded horse's feet as heavy as the +leaden moments. That he had not long since overtaken the coach was +inexplicable, unless Susan had been a most tardy messenger. True, at +the fork of the road he had been misled, but should before this have +regained what he had lost, unless he was once more on the wrong +thoroughfare. As night fell, the vastness of the new world impressed +the soldier as never before; not a creature had he met since leaving +the patroon village; she whom he sought might have been swallowed up +in the immensity of the wilderness. For the first time his task seemed +as if it might be to no purpose; his confidence of the morning had +gradually been replaced by consuming anxiety. He reproached himself +that he had not pressed his inquiries further at the patroon village, +but realized it was now too late for regrets; go on he must and +should. + +Along the darkening road horse and rider continued their way. Only +at times the young man pulled at the reins sharply, as the animal +stumbled from sheer weariness. With one hand he stroked encouragingly +the foam-flecked arch of the horse's neck; the other, holding the +reins, was clenched like a steel glove. Leaving the brow of a +hill, the horseman expectantly fixed his gaze ahead, when suddenly on +his right, a side thoroughfare lay before him. As he drew rein +indecisively at the turn, peering before him through the gathering +darkness, a voice from the trees called out unexpectedly: + +"Hitch up in here!" + +At this peremptory summons the soldier gazed quickly in the direction +of the speaker. Through the grove, where the trees were so slender and +sparsely planted the eye could penetrate the thicket, he saw a band of +horsemen dismounting and tying their animals. There was something +unreal, grotesque even, in their appearance, but it was not until one +of their number stepped from the shadow of the trees into the clearer +light of the road that he discerned their head-dress and garb to be +that of Indians. Recalling all he had heard of the masquerading, +marauding excursions of the anti-renters, the soldier at once +concluded he had encountered a party of them, bent upon some nefarious +expedition. That he was taken for one of their number seemed equally +evident. + +"Come!" called out the voice again, impatiently. "The patroon is at +the manor with his city trollop. It's time we were moving." + +An exclamation fell from the soldier's lips. The patroon!--his +ill-disguised admiration for the actress!--his abrupt reappearance +the night of the temperance drama! Any uncertainty Saint-Prosper +might have felt regarding the identity of him he sought, or the +reason for that day's work, now became compelling certitude. But for +the tenants, he might have ridden by the old patroon house. As it +was, congratulating himself upon this accidental meeting rather than +his own shrewdness, he quickly dismounted. A moment's thought, and he +followed the lease-holders. + +In the attack on the manor, his purpose, apart from theirs, led him to +anticipate the general movement of the anti-renters in front of the +house and to make his way alone, aided by fortuitous circumstances, to +the room where the land baron had taken refuge. As he sprang into this +chamber the young girl's exclamation of fear was but the prelude to an +expression of gladness, while Mauville's consternation when he found +himself disarmed and powerless, was as great as his surprise. For a +moment, therefore, in his bearing bravado was tempered with +hesitancy. + +"You here?" stammered the land baron, as he involuntarily recoiled +from his own weapon. + +The soldier contemptuously thrust the revolver into his pocket. "As +you see," he said coldly, "and in a moment, they"--indicating the +door--"will be here!" + +"You think to turn me over to them!" exclaimed the other violently. +"But you do not know me! This is no quarrel of yours. Give me my +weapon, and let me fight it out with them!" + +The soldier's glance rested for a moment on the young girl and his +face grew stern and menacing. + +"By heaven, I am half-minded to take you at your word! But you shall +have one chance--a slender one! There is the window; it opens on the +portico!" + +"And if I refuse?" + +"They have brought a rope with them. Go, or hang!" + +The heir hesitated, but as he pondered, the anti-renters were +effectually shattering the heavy door, regaling themselves with +threats taught them by the politicians who had advocated their cause +on the stump, preached it in the legislature, or grown eloquent over +it in the constitutional assembly. + +"The serfs are here! The drawers of water and hewers of wood have +arisen! Hang the land baron! Hang the feudal lord!" + +A braver man than Mauville might have been cowed by that chorus. But +after pausing irresolutely, weighing the chances of life and death, +gazing jealously upon the face of the apprehensive girl, and +venomously at the intruder, the heir finally made a virtue of +necessity and strode to the window. With conflicting emotions +struggling in his mind--fury toward the lease-holders, hatred for the +impassive mediator--he yet regained, in a measure, an outwardly calm +bearing. + +[Illustration] + +"It's a poor alternative," he said, shortly, flashing a last glance at +the actress. "But it's the best that offers!" + +So saying, he sprang upon the balcony--none too soon, for a moment +later the door burst open and an incongruous element rushed into the +room. Many were attired in outlandish head-dresses, embroidered +moccasins and fringed jackets, their faces painted in various hues, +but others, of a bolder spirit, had disdained all subterfuge of +disguise. Not until then did the soldier discover that he had +overlooked the possible unpleasantness of remaining in the land +baron's stead, for the anti-renters promptly threw themselves upon +him, regardless of his companion. The first to grapple with him was a +herculean, thick-ribbed man, of extraordinary stature, taller than the +soldier, if not so well-knit; a Goliath, indeed, as Scroggs had deemed +him, with arms long as windmills. + +"Stand back, lads," he roared, "and let me throw him!" And Dick, the +tollman, rushed at Saint-Prosper with furious attack; soon they were +chest to chest, each with his chin on his opponent's right shoulder, +and each grasping the other around the body with joined hands. + +Dick's muscles grew taut, like mighty whip-cords; his chest expanded +with power; he girded his loins for a great effort, and it seemed as +if he would make good his boast. Held in the grasp of those arms, +tight as iron bands, the soldier staggered. Once more the other heaved +and again Saint-Prosper nearly fell, his superior agility alone saving +him. + +Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the soldier managed to face to the +right, twisting so as to place his left hip against his adversary--his +only chance; a trick of wrestling unknown to his herculean, but clumsy +opponent. Gathering all his strength in a last determined effort, he +stooped forward suddenly and lifted in his turn. One portentous +moment--a moment of doubt and suspense--and the proud representative +of the barn-burners was hurled over the shoulder of the soldier, +landing with a crash on the floor where he lay, dazed and immovable. + +Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with labored effort, +Saint-Prosper fell back against the wall. The anti-renters quickly +recovering from their surprise, gave him no time to regain his +strength, and the contest promised a speedy and disastrous conclusion +for the soldier, when suddenly a white figure flashed before him, +confronting the tenants with pale face and shining eyes. A slender +obstacle; only a girlish form, yet the fearlessness of her manner, the +eloquence of her glance--for her lips were silent!--kept them back for +the instant. + +But fiercer passions were at work among them, the desire for +retaliation and bitter hatred of the patroon, which speedily +dissipated any feeling of compunction or any tendency to waver, + +"Kill him before his lady love!" cried a piercing voice from behind. +"Did they not murder my husband before me? Kill him, if you are men!" + +And pressing irresistibly to the front appeared the woman whose +husband had been shot by the deputies. Her features, once soft and +matronly, flamed with uncontrollable passions. + +"Are only the poor to suffer?" she continued, as her, burning eyes +fell on the young girl. "Shall she not feel what I did?" + +"Back woman!" exclaimed one of the barn-burners, sternly. "This is no +place for you." + +"Who has a better right to be here?" retorted the woman. + +"But this is not woman's work!" + +"Woman's work!" Fiercely. "As much woman's work as for his trull to +try to save him! Oh? let me see him!" + +Gently the soldier, now partly recovering his strength, thrust the +young girl behind him, as pushing to the foreground the woman regarded +him vengefully. But in her eyes the hatred and bitter aversion faded +slowly, to be replaced by perplexity, which in turn gave way to +wonder, while the uplifted arm, raised threateningly against him, fell +passively to her side. At first, astonished, doubting, she did not +speak, then her lips moved mechanically. + +"That is not the land baron," she cried, staring at him in disappointment +that knew no language. + +"The woman is right," added a masquerader. "I know Mauville, too, for +he told me to go to the devil when I asked him to wait for his rent." + +At this unexpected announcement, imprecations and murmurs of +incredulity were heard on all sides. + +"Woman, would you shield your husband's murderer?" exclaimed an +over-zealous barn-burner. + +"Shield him!" she retorted, as if aroused from a trance. "No, no! I'm +not here for that! But this is not the patroon. His every feature is +burned into my heart! I tell you it is not he. Yet he should be here. +Did I not see him driving toward the manor?" And she gazed wildly +around. + +For a moment, following this impassioned outburst, their rough glances +sought one another's, and the soldier quickly took advantage of this +cessation of hostilities. + +"No; I am not the land baron," he interposed. + +"You aren't?" growled a disappointed lease-holder. "Then who the devil +are you? An anti-renter?" he added, suspiciously. + +"He must be an enemy of the land baron," interrupted the woman, +passing her hand across her brow. "He was with us in the grove. I saw +him ride up and took him to be a barn-burner. He crossed the meadow +with us. I saw his face; distinctly as I see it now! He asked me about +the patroon--yes, I remember now!--and what was she like, the woman +who was with him!" + +"I am no friend of his," continued the soldier in a firm voice. "You +had one purpose in seeking him; I, another! He carried off this lady. +I was following him, when I met you in the grove." + +"Then how came you here--in this room?" + +"By the way of a tree, the branch of which reaches to the window." + +"The land baron was in this room a moment ago. Where is he now?" + +For answer Saint-Prosper pointed to the window. + +"Then you let him--" + +"We're wasting time," impatiently shouted the barn-burner who had +disclaimed the soldier's identity to the patroon. "Come!" With an +oath. "Do you want to lose him after all? He can't be far away. And +this one, damn him! isn't our man!" + +For a second the crowd wavered, then with a vengeful shout they shot +from the room, disappearing as quickly as they had come. Led by Little +Thunder, who, being a man of peace, had discreetly remained without, +they had reached the gate in their headlong pursuit when they were met +by a body of horsemen, about to turn into the yard as the anti-renters +were hurrying out. At sight of this formidable band, the lease-holders +immediately scattered. Taken equally by surprise, the others made +little effort to intercept them and soon they had vanished over field +and down dell. Then the horsemen turned, rode through the avenue of +trees, and drew up noisily before the portico. + +From their window the soldier and his companion observed the abrupt +encounter at the entrance of the manor grounds and the dispersion of +the lease-holders like leaves before the autumn gusts. Constance, who +had breathlessly watched the flight of the erstwhile assailants, felt +her doubts reawakened as the horsemen drew up before the door. + +"Are they coming back?" she asked, involuntarily clasping the arm of +her companion. + +She who had been so courageous and self-controlled throughout that +long, trying day, on a sudden felt strangely weak and dependent. He +leaned from the narrow casement to command the view below, striving to +pierce the gloom, and she, following his example, gazed over his +shoulder. Either a gust of air had extinguished the light in the +candelabra on the mantel, or the tallow dip had burnt itself out, for +the room was now in total darkness so that they could dimly see, +without being seen. + +"These men are not the ones who just fled," he replied. + +"Then who are they?" she half-whispered, drawing unconsciously closer +in that moment of jeopardy, her face distant but a curl's length. + +Below the men were dismounting, tying their horses among the trees. +Like a noisy band of troopers they were talking excitedly, but their +words were indistinguishable. + +"Why do you suppose they fled from them?" she continued. + +Was it a tendril of the vine that touched his cheek gently? He +started, his face toward the haze in the open borderland. + +"Clearly these men are not the lease-holders. They may be seeking +you." + +She turned eagerly from the window. In the darkness their hands met. +Momentary compunction made her pause. + +"I haven't yet thanked you!" And he felt the cold, nervous pressure of +her hands on his. "You must have ridden very hard and very far!" + +His hand closed suddenly upon one of hers. He was not thinking of the +ride, but of how she had placed herself beside him in his moment of +peril; how she had held them--not long--but a moment--yet long +enough! + +"They're coming in! They're down stairs!" she exclaimed excitedly. + +A flickering light below suddenly threw dim moving shadows upon the +ceiling of the hall. As she spoke she stepped forward and stumbled +over the debris at the door. His arm was about her, almost before the +startled exclamation had fallen from her lips; for a moment her +shapely, young figure rested against him. But quickly she extricated +herself, and they picked their way cautiously over the bestrewn +threshold out into the hall. + +At the balustrade, they paused. Reconnoitering at the turn, they were +afforded full survey of the lower hall where the latest comers had +taken possession. Few in numbers, the gathering had come to a dead +stop, regarding in surprise the broken door, and the furniture +wantonly demolished. But amid this scene of rack and ruin, an object +of especial wonder to the newcomers was the great lifting-stone lying +in the hall amid the havoc it had wrought. + +"No one but Dick, the tollman, could have thrown that against the +door!" said a little man who seemed a person of authority. "I wonder +where the patroon can be?" + +With unusual pallor of face the young girl stepped from behind the +sheltering post. Her hand, resting doubtfully upon the balustrade, +sought in unconscious appeal her companion's arm, as they descended +together the broad steps. In the partial darkness the little man ill +discerned the figures, but divined their bearing in the relation of +outlines limned against the obscure background. + +"Why," he muttered in surprise, "this is not the patroon! And here, if +I am not mistaken, is the lady Mr. Barnes is so anxious about." + +"Mr. Barnes--he is with you?" + +It was Constance that spoke. + +"Yes; but--" + +"Where is he?" + +"We left him a ways down the road and--" + +The sound of a horse's hoof beats in front of the manor, breaking in +on this explanation, was followed by hurried footsteps upon the porch. +The newcomer paused on the threshold, when, with an exclamation of +joy, Constance rushed to him, and in a moment was clasped in the arms +of the now jubilant Barnes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP + + +Next morning the sun had made but little progress in the heavens and +the dew was not yet off the grass when the party, an imposing +cavalcade, issued from the manor on the return journey. Their +home-coming was uneventful. The barn-burners had disappeared like +rabbits in their holes; the manor whose master had fled, deserted even +by the faithful Oly-koeks, was seen for the last time from the brow of +the hill, and then, with its gables and extensive wings, vanished from +sight. + +"Well," remarked Barnes as they sped down the road, "it was a happy +coincidence for me that led the anti-renters to the patroon's house +last night." + +And he proceeded to explain how when he had sought the magistrate, he +found that official organizing a _posse comitatus_ for the purpose of +quelling an anticipated uprising of lease-holders. In answer to the +manager's complaint the custodian of the law had asserted his first +duty was generally to preserve the peace; afterward, he would attend +to Barnes' particular grievance. Obliged to content himself as best +he might with this meager assurance, the manager, at his wit's end, +had accompanied the party whose way had led them in the direction the +carriage had taken, and whose final destination--an unhoped-for +consummation!--had proved the ultimate goal of his own desires. + +On reaching, that afternoon, the town where they were playing, Susan +was the first of the company to greet Constance. + +"Now that it's all over," she laughed, "I rather envy you that you +were rescued by such a handsome cavalier." + +"Really," drawled Kate, "I should have preferred not being rescued. +The owner of a coach, a coat of arms, silver harness, and the best +horses in the country! I could drive on forever." + +But later, alone with Susan, she looked hard at her: + +"So you fainted yesterday?" + +"Oh, I'm a perfect coward," returned the other, frankly. + +Kate's mind rapidly swept the rough and troubled past; the haphazard +sea upon which they had embarked so long ago-- + +"Dear me!" she remarked quietly, and Susan turned to conceal a blush. + +Owing to the magistrate's zeal in relating the story of the rescue, +the players' success that night was great. + +"The hall was filled to overflowing," says the manager in his date +book. "At the end of the second act, the little girl was called out, +and much to her inward discomfiture the magistrate presented her with +a bouquet and the audience with a written speech. Taking advantage of +the occasion, he pointed a political moral from the tale, and referred +to his own candidacy to the legislature, where he would look after the +interests of the rank and file. It was time the land-owners were +taught their places--not by violence--Oh, no--no French methods for +Americans!--by ballot, not by bullet! Let the people vote for an +amendment to the constitution! + +"As we were preparing to leave the theater, the magistrate appeared +behind the scenes. 'Of course, Mr. Barnes, you will appear against the +patroon?' he said. 'His prosecution will do much to fortify the +issue.' + +"'That is all very fine,' I returned, satirically. 'But will the Lord +provide while we are trying the case? Shall we find miraculous +sustenance? We live by moving on, sir. One or two nights in a place; +sometimes, a little longer! No, no; 'tis necessary to forget, if not +to forgive. You'll have to fortify your issue without us.' + +"'Well, well,' he said, good-naturedly, 'if it's against your +interests, I have no wish to press the matter.' Whereupon we shook +hands heartily and parted. I looked around for Constance, but she had +left the hall with Saint-Prosper. Have I been wise in asking him to +join the chariot? I sometimes half regret we are beholden to him--" + +From the Shadengo Valley Barnes' company proceeded by easy stages to +Ohio, where the roads were more difficult than any the chariot had yet +encountered. On every hand, as they crossed the country, sounded the +refrains of that memorable song-campaign which gave to the state the +fixed sobriquet of "Buckeye." Drawing near the capital, where the +convention was to be held, a log cabin, on an enormous wagon, passed +the chariot. A dozen horses fancifully adorned were harnessed to this +novel vehicle; flowers over-ran the cabin-home, hewn from the buckeye +logs of the forest near Marysville. In every window appeared the faces +of merry lads and lasses, and, as they journeyed on, their chorus +echoed over field and through forest. The wood-cutter leaned on his ax +to listen; the plowman waved his coonskin cap, his wife, a red +handkerchief from the doorway of their log cabin. + + "Oh, tell me where the Buckeye cabin was made? + 'Twas built among the boys who wield the plow and spade, + Where the log-cabin stands in the bonnie Buckeye shade." + +From lip to lip the song had been carried, until the entire country +was singing it, and the log-cabin had become a part of the armorial +bearings of good citizenship, especially applicable to the crests of +presidents. Well might the people ask: + + "Oh, what has caused this great commotion + All the country through?" + +which the ready chorus answered: + + "It is a ball a-rolling on + For Tippecanoe and Tyler, too!" + +The least of the strollers' troubles at this crucial period of their +wanderings were the bad roads or the effects of song and log-cabin +upon the "amusement world," the greatest being a temperance orator who +thundered forth denunciations of rum and the theater with the +bitterness of a Juvenal inveighing profligate Rome. The people crowded +the orator's hall, upon the walls of which hung the customary banners: +a serpent springing from the top of a barrel; the steamboat, Alcohol, +bursting her boiler and going to pieces, and the staunch craft, +Temperance, safe and sound, sailing away before a fair wind. With +perfect self-command, gift of mimicry and dramatic gestures, the +lecturer swayed his audience; now bubbling over with witty anecdotes, +again exercising his power of graphic portraiture. His _elixir +vitae_--animal spirits--humanized his effort, and, as Sir Robert Peel +played upon the House of Commons "as on an old fiddle," so John B. +Gough (for it was the versatile comic singer, actor and speaker) +sounded the chords of that homely gathering. + +Whatever he was, "poet, orator and dramatist, an English Gavazzi," or, +"mountebank," "humbug," or "backslider," Mr. Gough was, even at that +early period, an antagonist not to be despised. He had been out of +pocket and out at the elbows--indeed, his wardrobe now was mean and +scanty; want and privation had been his companions, and, from his +grievous experiences, he had become a sensational story-teller of low +life and penury. Certainly Barnes had reason to lament the coincidence +which brought players and lecturer into town at the same time, +especially as the latter was heralded under the auspices of the Band +of Hope. + +The temperance lectures and a heavy rain combined to the undoing of +the strollers. Majestically the dark clouds rolled up, outspread like +a pall, and the land lay beneath the ban of a persistent downpour. +People remained indoors, for the most part, and the only signs of life +Barnes saw from the windows of the hotel were the landlord's +Holderness breed of cattle, mournfully chewing their monotonous cuds, +and some Leicester sheep, wofully wandering in the pasture, or huddled +together like balls of stained cotton beneath the indifferent +protection of a tree amid field. + +Exceptional inducements could not tempt the villagers to the theater. +Even an epilogue gained for them none of Mr. Gough's adherents. "The +Temperance Doctor" failed miserably; "Drunkard's Warning" admonished +pitiably few; while as for "Drunkard's Doom," no one cared what it +might be and left him to it. + +After such a disastrous engagement the manager not only found himself +at the end of his resources, but hopelessly indebted, and, with much +reluctance, laid the matter before the soldier who had already +advanced Barnes a certain sum after their conversation on the night +of the country dance and had also come to his assistance on an +occasion when box-office receipts and expenses had failed to meet. +Moreover, he had been a free, even careless, giver, not looking after +his business concerns with the prudent anxiety of a merchant whose +ventures are ships at the rude mercy of a troubled sea. To this third +application, however, he did not answer immediately. + +"Is it as bad as that?" he said at length, thoughtfully. + +"Yes; it's hard to speak about it to you," replied the manager, with +some embarrassment, "but at New Orleans--" + +The soldier encountered his troubled gaze. "See if you can sell my +horse," he answered. + +"You mean--" began the other surprised. + +"Yes." + +"Hanged if I will!" exclaimed the manager. Then he put out his hand +impulsively. "I beg your pardon. If I had known--but if we're ever out +of this mess, I may give a better account of my stewardship." + +Nevertheless, his plight now was comparable to that of the strollers +of old, hunted by beadles from towns and villages, and classed as +gypsies, vagabonds and professed itinerants by the constables. He was +no better served than the mummers, clowns, jugglers, and petty chapmen +who, wandering abroad, were deemed rogues and sturdy beggars. Yet no +king's censor could have found aught "unchaste, seditious or unmete" +in Barnes' plays; no cause for frays or quarrels, arising from pieces +given in the old inn-yards; no immoral matter, "whatsoever any light +and fantastical head listeth to invent or devise;" no riotous actors +of rollicking interludes, to be named in common with fencers, +bearwards and vagrants. + +"Better give it up, Mr. Barnes," said a remarkably sweet and +sympathetic voice, as the manager was standing in the hotel office, +turning the situation over and over in his mind. + +Barnes, looking around quickly to see who had read his inmost +thoughts, met the firm glance of his antagonist. + +"Mr. Gough, it is an honor to meet one of your talents," replied the +manager, "but"--with an attempt to hide his concern--"I shall not be +sorry, if we do not meet again." + +"An inhospitable wish!" answered the speaker, fixing his luminous eyes +upon the manager. "However, we shall probably see each other +frequently." + +"The Fates forbid, sir!" said Barnes, earnestly. "If you'll tell me +your route, we'll--go the other way!" + +"It won't do, Mr. Barnes! The devil and the flesh must be fairly +fought. 'Where thou goest'--You know the scriptural saying?" + +"You'll follow us!" exclaimed the manager with sudden consternation. + +The other nodded. + +"Why, this is tyranny! You are a Frankenstein; an Old-Man-of-the +Sea!" + +"Give it up," said the orator, with a smile that singularly illumined +his thin, but powerful features. "As I gave it up! Into what dregs of +vice, what a sink of iniquity was I plunged! The very cleansing of my +soul was an Augean task. Knavery, profligacy, laxity of morals, +looseness of principles--that was what the stage did for me; that was +the labor of Hercules to be cleared away! Give it up, Mr. Barnes!" And +with a last penetrating look, he strode out of the office. + +In spite of Barnes' refusal, the soldier offered to sell his horse to +the landlord, but the latter curtly declined, having horses enough to +"eat their heads off" during the winter, as he expressed it. His +Jeremy Collier aversion to players was probably at the bottom of this +point-blank rebuff, however. He was a stubborn man, czar in his own +domains, a small principality bounded by four inhospitable walls. His +guests--having no other place to go--were his subjects, or prisoners, +and distress could not find a more unfitting tribunal before which to +lay its case. There was something so malevolent in his vigilance, so +unfriendly in his scrutiny, that to the players he seemed an emissary +of disaster, inseparable from their cruel plight. + +Thus it was that the strollers perforce reached a desperate conclusion +when making their way from the theater on the last evening. By +remaining longer, they would become the more hopelessly involved; in +going--without their host's permission--they would be taking the +shortest route toward an honorable settlement in the near future; a +paradoxical flight from the brunt of their troubles, to meet them +squarely! This, to Barnes, ample reason for unceremonious departure +was heartily approved by the company in council assembled around the +town pump. + +"Stay and become a county burden, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Adams, +tragically. + +"As well be buried alive as anchored here!" fretfully added Susan. + +"The council is dissolved," said the manager, promptly, "with no one +the wiser--except the town pump." + +"An ally of Mr. Gough!" suggested Adonis. + +Thus more merrily than could have been expected, with such a +distasteful enterprise before them, they resumed their way. It was +disagreeable under foot and they presented an odd appearance, each one +with a light. Mrs. Adams, old campaigner that she was, led the way for +the ladies, elastic and chatty as though promenading down Broadway on +a spring morning. With their lanterns and the purpose they had in +view, they likened themselves to a band of conspirators. As Barnes +marched ahead with his light, Susan playfully called him Guy Fawkes, +of gun-powder fame, whereupon his mind almost misgave him concerning +the grave adventure upon which they were embarked. + +The wind was blowing furiously, doors and windows creaked, and all the +demons of unrest were moaning that night in the hubbub of sounds. Save +for a flickering candle in the hall, the tavern was dark, and +landlord and maids had long since retired to rest. Amid the noise of +the rain and the sobbing of the wind, trunks were lowered from the +window; the chariot and property wagon were drawn from the stable yard +and the horses led from their stalls. In a trice they were ready and +the ladies, wrapped in their cloaks, were in the coach. But the +clatter of hoofs, the neighing of a horse, or some other untoward +circumstance, aroused the landlord; a window in the second story shot +up and out popped a head in a night-cap. + +"Here!--What are you about?" cried the man. + +"Leaving!" said the manager, laconically. + +The landlord threw up his arms like Shylock at the loss of his +money-bags. + +"The reckoning!" he exclaimed. "What about the reckoning?" + +"Your pound of flesh, sir!" replied Barnes. + +"My score! My score!" shouted the other. "You would not leave without +settling it!" + +"Go to bed, sir," was the answer, "and let honest people depart +without hindrance. You will be paid out of our first profits." + +But the man was not so easily appeased. "Robbers! Constable!" he +screamed. + +Conceiving it was better to be gone without further parley, having +assured him of their honorable intentions, Barnes was about to lash +the horses, when Kate suddenly exclaimed: + +"Where's Constance?" + +"Isn't she inside?" asked the manager quickly. + +"No; she isn't here." + +"Oh, I sent her back to get something for me I had forgotten," spoke +up Mrs. Adams, "and she hasn't returned yet." + +"Sent her back! Madam, you have ruined everything!" burst out Barnes, +bitterly. + +"Mr. Barnes, I won't be spoken to like a child!" + +"Child, indeed--" + +But the querulous words were not uttered, for, as the manager was +about to leave the box in considerable perturbation, there--gazing down +upon them at a window next to that occupied by the landlord--stood +Constance! + +For a tippet, or a ruff, or some equally wretched frippery, carelessly +left by the old lady, all their plans for deliverance appeared likely +to miscarry. Presumably, Constance, turned from her original purpose +by the noisy altercation, had hurried to the window, where now the +landlord perceived her and immediately availed himself of the +advantage offered. + +"So one of you is left behind," he shouted exultantly. "And it's the +leading lady, too! I'll take care she stays here, until after a +settlement. I'll stop you yet! Stealing away in the middle of the +night, you--you vagabonds!" + +His voice, growing louder and louder, ended in a shrieking crescendo. +Disheartened, there seemed no alternative for the players save to turn +back and surrender unconditionally. Barnes breathed a deep sigh; so +much for a tippet!--their dash for freedom had been but a sorry +attempt!--now he saw visions of prison bars, and uttered a groan, when +the soldier who was riding his own horse dashed forward beneath the +window and stood upright in his stirrups. + +"Do not be afraid, Miss Carew," he said. + +Fortunately the window was low and the distance inconsiderable, but +Barnes held his breath, hoping the hazard would deter her. + +"Do not, my dear!" he began. + +But she did not hesitate; the sight of the stalwart figure and the +strong arms, apparently reassured her, and she stepped upon the sill. + +"Quick!" he exclaimed, and, at the word, she dropped into his +upstretched arms. Scarcely had she escaped, however, before the +landlord was seen at the same window. So astonished was he to find her +gone, surprise at first held him speechless; then he burst into a +volley of oaths that would have shamed a whaler's master. + +"Come back!" he cried. "Come back, or--" The alternative was lost in +vengeful imprecation. + +Holding Constance before him, the soldier resumed his saddle. "Drive +on!" he cried to Barnes, as past the chariot sped his horse, with its +double burden. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE HAND FERRY + + +At a lively gait down the road toward the river galloped the horse +bearing Saint-Prosper and Constance. The thoroughfare was deserted and +the dwelling houses as well as the principal buildings of the town +were absolutely dark. At one place a dog ran out to the front gate, +disturbed by the unusual noise on the road, and barked furiously, but +they moved rapidly on. Now the steeple of the old church loomed +weirdly against the dark background of the sky and then vanished. + +On; on, they went, past the churchyard, with its marble slabs +indistinctly outlined in the darkness, like a phantom graveyard, as +immaterial and ghostlike itself as the spirits of the earliest +settlers at rest there beneath the sod. This was the last indication +of the presence of the town, the final impression to carry away into +the wide country, where the road ran through field and forest. As they +sped along, they plunged into a chasm of blackness, caused by the +trees on both sides of the road which appeared to be constantly +closing upon them. In the darkness of that stygian tunnel, dashing +blindly through threatening obscurity, she yet felt no terrors, for a +band of steel seemed to hold her above some pit of "visible night." + +Out of the tunnel into the comparatively open space, the wind +boomed with all its force, and like an enraged monster, drove the +storm-clouds, now rainless, across the sky. Occasionally the moon +appeared through some aperture, serene, peace-inspiring, momentarily +gilding the dark vapor, and again was swallowed up by another mass of +clouds. A brood of shadows leaped around them, like things of life, +now dancing in the road or pursuing through the tufts of grass, then +vanishing over the meadows or disappearing in murky nooks. But a +moment were they gone and then, marshaled in new numbers, menacing +before and behind, under the very feet of the horse, bidding +defiance to the clattering hoofs. With mane tossed in the angry +wind, and nostrils dilated, the animal neighed with affright, suddenly +leaping aside, as a little nest of unknown dangers lurked and +rustled in the ambush of a drift of animated brush. + +At that abrupt start, the rider swayed; his grasp tightened about the +actress' waist; her arms involuntarily held him closer. Loosened by +the wind and the mad motion, her hair brushed his cheek and fell over +his shoulder, whipped sharply in the breeze. A fiercer gust, sweeping +upon them uproariously, sent all the tresses free, and scudded by with +an exultant shriek. For a time they rode in this wise, her face cold +in the rush of wind; his gaze fixed ahead, striving to pierce the +gloom, and then he drew rein, holding the horse with some difficulty +at a standstill in the center of the thoroughfare. + +With senses numbed by the stirring flight, the young girl had been +oblivious to the firmness of the soldier's sustaining grasp, but now +as they paused in the silent, deserted spot, she became suddenly +conscious of it. The pain--so fast he held her!--made her wince. She +turned her face to his. A glint of light fell on his brow and any +lines that had appeared there were erased in the magical glimmer; +eagerness, youth, passion alone shone upon his features. + +His arm clasped her even yet more closely, as if in the wildness of +the moment he would fiercely draw her to him regardless of all. Did +she understand--that with her face so near his, her hair surrounding +him, her figure pressed in that close embrace--he must needs speak to +her; had, indeed, spoken to her. She was conscious her hand on his +shoulder trembled. Her cheek was no longer cold; abruptly the warm +glow mantled it. Was it but that a momentary calm fell around them; +the temporary hush of the boisterous wind? And yet, when again the +squall swept by with renewed turmoil, her face remained unchilled. She +seemed but a child in his arms. How light her own hand-touch compared +to that compelling grasp with which he held her! She remembered he had +but spoken to her standing in the window, and she had obeyed without a +question--without thought of fear. She longed to spring to the ground +now, to draw herself from him. + +"You can hear the chariot down the road, Miss Carew." + +Quickly her glance returned to his face; his gaze was bent down the +thoroughfare. He spoke so quietly she wondered at her momentary fears; +his voice reassured her. + +A gleam of light shot through a rift in the clouds. + +"Hello-a!" came a welcome voice from the distance. + +"Hello-a!" answered the soldier. + +"You'd better ride on!" shouted the manager. "They're after us!" + +For answer the soldier touched his horse, and now began a race for the +river and the ferry, which were in plain sight, Luna fortunately at +this critical moment sailing from between the vapors and shining from +a clear lake in the sky. The chaste light, out of the angry +convulsions of the heavens, showed the fugitives the road and the +river, winding like a broad band of silver across the darkness of the +earth, its surface rippled into waves by the northern wind. Behind +them the soldier and Constance could hear the coach creaking and +groaning. It seemed to careen on its beams' end, but some special +providence was watching over the players and no catastrophe occurred. + +Nearer came the men on horseback down the hill; now the foremost +shouted. Closer was the river; Saint-Prosper reached its bank; the +gang-plank was in position and he dashed aboard. With a mighty +tossing and rolling, the chariot approached, rattled safely across the +gangway, followed by the property wagon, and eager hands grasped the +rope, extending from shore to shore above the large, flat craft. These +hand ferries, found in various sections of the country, were strongly, +although crudely, constructed, their sole means of locomotion in the +stationary rope, by means of which the passengers, providing their own +power for transportation, drew themselves to the opposite shore. + +The energy now applied to the hempen strand sent the ferry many feet +from the shore out into the river, where the current was much swifter +than usual, owing to the heavy rainfalls. The horses on the great +cumbersome craft were snorting with terror. + +Crack! pish! One of the men on the shore used his revolver. + +"An illogical and foolish way to collect debts, that!" grumbled the +manager, tugging at the rope. "If they kill us, how can we requite +them for our obligations?" + +The river was unusually high and the current set the boat, heavily +loaded, tugging at the rope. However, it resisted the strain and soon +the craft grated on the sand and the party disembarked, safe from +constable and bailiff in the brave, blue grass country. Only one +mishap occurred, and that to Adonis, who, in his haste, fell into the +shallow water. He was as disconsolate as the young hero Minerva threw +into the sea to wrest him from the love of Eucharis. But in this +case, Eucharis (Kate) laughed immoderately at his discomfiture. + +As Barnes was not sure of the road, the strollers camped upon the +bank. The river murmured a seductive cradle-song to the rushes, and, +on the shore, from the dark and ominous background, came the deeper +voice of the pines. + +Constance, who had been unusually quiet and thoughtful, gradually +recovered her spirits. + +"Here, Mrs. Adams, is your tippet," she said with a merry smile, +taking a bit of lace from her dress. + +"Thank you, my dear; I wouldn't have lost it for anything!" said the +old lady, effusively, while Barnes muttered something beneath his +breath. + +The soldier, who had dismissed the manager's thanks somewhat abruptly, +occupied himself arranging the cushions from the chariot on the grass. +Suddenly Mrs. Adams noticed a crimson stain on his shoulder. + +"Sir!" she exclaimed, in the voice of the heroine of "Oriana," "you +are wounded!" + +"It is nothing, Madam!" he replied. + +Stripping off his coat, Barnes found the wound was, indeed, but +slight, the flesh having just been pierced. + +"How romantic!" gushed Susan. "He stood in front of Constance when the +firing began. Now, no one thought of poor me. On the contrary, if I am +not mistaken, Mr. Hawkes discreetly stood behind me." + +"Jokes reflecting upon one's honor are in bad taste," gravely retorted +the melancholy actor. + +"Indeed, I thought it no jest at the time!" replied the other. + +"Mistress Susan, your tongue is dangerous!" + +"Mr. Hawkes, your courage will never lead you into danger!" + +"Nay," he began, angrily, "this is a serious offense--" + +"On the contrary," she said, laughing, "it is a question of defense." + +"There is no arguing with a woman," he grumbled. "She always takes +refuge in her tongue." + +"While you, Mr. Hawkes, take refuge--" + +But the other arose indignantly and strode into the gloom. Meanwhile +Barnes, while dressing the injury, discovered near the cut an old scar +thoroughly healed, but so large and jagged it attracted his +attention. + +"That hurt was another matter," said he, touching it. + +Was it the manager's fingers or his words caused Saint-Prosper to +wince? "Yes, it was another matter," he replied, hurriedly. "An Arab +spear--or something of the kind!" + +"Tell us about it," prattled Susan. "You have never told us anything +about Africa. It seems a forbidden subject." + +"Perhaps he has a wife in Tangiers, or Cairo," laughed Kate. + + "He was wed in Amsterdam, + Again in far Siam, + And after this + Sought triple bliss + And married in Hindustan," + +sang Susan. + +The soldier made some evasive response to this raillery and then +became silent. Soon quiet prevailed in the encampment; only out of the +recesses of the forest came the menacing howl of a vagabond wolf. + +"Such," says Barnes in his notebook, "is the true history of an +adventure which created some talk at the time. A perilous, regrettable +business at best, but we acted according to our light and were enabled +thereafter to requite our obligations, which could not have been done +had they seized the properties, poor garments of players' pomp; tools +whereby we earned our meager livelihood. If, after this explanation, +anyone still has aught of criticism, I must needs be silent, not +controverting his censure. + +"With some amusement I learned that our notable belligerent, Mr. +Gough, was well-nigh reduced to the same predicament as that in which +we found ourselves. He could not complain of his audiences, and the +Band of Hope gained many recruits by his coming, but, through some +misapprehension, the customary collections were overlooked. The last +night of the lecture, the chairman of the evening, at the conclusion +of the address, arose and said: 'I move we thank Mr. Gough for his +eloquent effort and then adjourn.' + +"The motion prevailed, and the gathering was about to disperse when +the platform bludgeon-man held them with a gesture. 'Will you kindly +put your thanks in writing, that I may offer it for my hotel bill,' +said he. + +"But for this quick wit and the gathering's response to the appeal he +would have been in the same boat with us, or rather, on the same +boat--the old hand ferry! Subsequently, he became a speaker of foreign +and national repute, but at that time he might have traveled from +Scarboro' to Land's End without attracting a passing glance." + + + + +BOOK II + +DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS + + +Through the land of the strapping, thick-ribbed pioneers of Kentucky +the strollers bent their course--a country where towns and hamlets +were rapidly springing up in the smiling valleys or on the fertile +hillsides; where new families dropping in, and old ones obeying the +injunction to be "fruitful and multiply" had so swelled the population +that the region, but a short time before sparsely settled, now teemed +with a sturdy people. To Barnes' satisfaction, many of the roads were +all that could have been wished for, the turnpike system of the center +of the state reflecting unbounded credit upon its builders. + +If a people may be judged by its highways, Kentucky, thus early, with +its macadamized roads deserved a prominent place in the sisterhood +of states. Moreover, while mindful always of her own internal +advancement, she persistently maintained an ever-watchful eye and +closest scrutiny on the parental government and the acts of congress. +"Give a Kentuckian a plug of tobacco and a political antagonist and +he will spend a comfortable day where'er he may be," has been happily +said. It was this hardy, horse-raising, tobacco-growing community +which had given the peerless Clay to the administrative councils of +the country; it was this rugged cattle-breeding, whisky-distilling +people which had offered the fearless Zach Taylor to spread the +country's renown on the martial field. + +What sunny memories were woven in that pilgrimage for the strollers! +Remembrance of the corn-husking festivities, and the lads who, having +found the red ears, kissed the lasses of their choice; of the dancing +that followed--double-shuffle, Kentucky heel-tap, pigeon wing or +Arkansas hoe-down! And mingling with the remembrance of such pleasing +diversions were the yet more satisfying recollections of large +audiences, generous-minded people and substantial rewards, well-won; +rewards which enabled them shortly afterward to pay by post the +landlord from whom they had fled. + +Down the Father of Waters a month or so after their flight into the +blue grass country steamed the packet bearing the company of players, +leaving behind them the Chariot of the Muses. + +At the time of their voyage down the Mississippi "the science of +piloting was not a thing of the dead and pathetic past," and wonderful +accounts were written of the autocrats of the wheel and the +characteristics of the ever-changing, ever-capricious river. +"Accidents!" says an early steamboat captain. "Oh, sometimes we run +foul of a snag or sawyer, occasionally collapse a boiler and blow up +sky-high. We get used to these little matters and don't mind them." + +None of these trifling incidents was experienced by the players, +however, who thereby lost, according to the Munchausens of the period, +half of the pleasure and excitement of the trip. In fact, nothing more +stirring than taking on wood from a flatboat alongside, or throwing a +plank ashore for a passenger, varied the monotony of the hour, and, +approaching their destination, the last day on the "floating palace" +dawned serenely, uneventfully. + +The gray of early morn became suffused with red, like the flush of +life on a pallid cheek. Arrows of light shot out above the trees; an +expectant hush pervaded the forest. Inside the cabin a sleepy negro +began the formidable task of sweeping. This duty completed, he shook a +bell, which feature of his daily occupation the darky entered into +with diabolical energy, and soon the ear-rending discord brought the +passengers on deck. But hot cornbread, steaks and steaming coffee +speedily restored that equanimity of temper disturbed by the morning's +clangorous summons. + +Breakfast over, some of the gentlemen repaired to the boiler deck for +the enjoyment of cigars, the ladies surrounded the piano in the cabin, +while a gambler busied himself in getting into the good graces of a +young fellow who was seeing the world. Less lonely became the shores, +as the boat, panting as if from long exertion, steamed on. Carrolton +and Lafayette were left behind. Now along the banks stretched the +showy houses and slave plantations of the sugar planters; and soon, +from the deck of the boat, the dome of the St. Charles and the +cathedral towers loomed against the sky. + +Beyond a mile or so of muddy water and a formidable fleet of old +hulks, disreputable barges and "small fry broad-horns," lay +Algiers, graceless itself as the uninviting foreground; looking out +contemplatively from its squalor at the inspiring view of Nouvelle +Orleans, with the freighters, granaries and steamboats, three +stories high, floating past; comparing its own inertia--if a city +can be presumed capable of such edifying consciousness!--with the +aspect of the busy levee, where cotton bales, sugar hogsheads, +molasses casks, tobacco, hemp and other staple articles of the South, +formed, as it were, a bulwark, or fortification of peace, for the +habitations behind it. Such was the external appearance--suggestive +of commerce--of that little center whose social and bohemian life was +yet more interesting than its mercantile features. + +At that period the city boasted of its Addison of letters--since +forgotten; its Feu-de-joie, the peerless dancer, whose beauty had +fired the Duke Gambade to that extravagant conduct which made the +recipient of those marked attentions the talk of the town; its Roscius +of the drama; its irresistible _ingenue_, the lovely, little +Fantoccini; and its theatrical carpet-knight, M. Grimacier, whose +intrigue with the stately and, heretofore, saintly Madame Etalage had, +it was said later, much to do with the unhappy taking-off of that +ostentatious and haughty lady. It had Mlle. Affettuoso, songstress, +with, it is true, an occasional break in her trill; and, last, but not +least, that general friend of mankind, more puissant, powerful and +necessary than all the nightingales, butterflies, or men of +letters--who, nevertheless, are well enough in their places!--Tortier, +the only Tortier, who carried the _art de cuisine_ to ravishing +perfection, whose ragouts were sonnets in sauce and whose fricassees +nothing less than idyls! + +Following the strollers' experiences with short engagements and +improvised theaters, there was solace in the appearance of the city of +cream and honey, and the players, assembled on the boiler deck, +regarded the thriving port with mingled feelings as they drew nearer. +Susan began forthwith to dream of conquests--a swarthy Mexican, the +owner of an opal mine; a prince from Brazil; a hidalgo, exile, or any +other notable among the cosmopolitan people. Adonis bethought himself +of dusky beauties, waiting in their carriages at the stage entrance; +sighing for him, languishing for him; whirling him away to a supper +room--and Paradise! Regretfully the wiry old lady reverted to the time +when she and her first husband had visited this Paris of the South, +and, with a deep sigh, paid brief tribute to the memory of conjugal +felicity. + +Constance's eyes were grave as they rested upon the city where she +would either triumph or fail, and the seriousness of her task came +over her, leaning with clasped hands against the railing of the boat. +Among that busy host what place would be made for her? How easy it +seemed to be lost in the legion of workers; to be crushed in the +swaying crowd! It was as though she were entering a room filled with +strangers, and stood hesitating on the threshold. But youth's +assurance soon set aside this gloomy picture; the shadow of a smile +lighted her face and her glance grew bright. At twenty the world is +rosy and in the perspective are many castles. + +Near by the soldier also leaned against the rail, looking not, +however, at New Orleans but at her, while all unconscious of his +regard she continued to gaze cityward. His face, too, was thoughtful. +The haphazard journey was approaching its end, and with it, in all +likelihood, the bond of union, the alliance of close comradeship +associated with the wilderness. She was keenly alive to honor, fame, +renown. What meaning had those words to him--save for her? He smiled +bitterly, as a sudden revulsion of dark thoughts crowded upon him. He +had had his bout; the sands of the arena that once had shone golden +now were dust. + +Drawing up to the levee, they became a part of the general bustle and +confusion; hurriedly disembarked, rushed about for their luggage, +because every one else was rushing; hastily entered carriages of which +there was a limited supply, and were whisked off over the rough +cobblestones which constituted the principal pavements of the city; +catching momentary glimpses, between oscillations, of oyster saloons, +fruit and old clothes' shops, and coffee stands, where the people ate +in the open air. In every block were _cafés_ or restaurants, and the +sign "Furnished Rooms" appearing at frequent intervals along the +thoroughfare through which they drove at headlong pace, bore evidence +to the fact that the city harbored many strangers. + +The hotel was finally reached--and what a unique hostelry it was! "Set +the St. Charles down in St. Petersburg," commented a chronicler in +1846, "and you would think it a palace; in Boston, and ten to one, you +would christen it a college; in London, and it would remind you of an +exchange." It represented at that day the evolution of the American +tavern, the primitive inn, instituted for passengers and wayfaring +men; the development of the pot-house to the metropolitan hotel, of +the rural ale-room to the palatial saloon. + +"What a change from country hostelries!" soliloquized the manager, +after the company were installed in commodious rooms. "No more inns +where soap and towels are common property, and a comb, without its +full complement of teeth, does service for all comers!" he continued, +gazing around the apartment in which he found himself. "Think of real +gas in your room, Barnes, and great chairs, easy as the arms of +Morpheus! Are you comfortable, my dear?" he called out. + +Constance's voice in an adjoining room replied affirmatively, and he +added: "I'm going down stairs to look around a bit." + +Beneath the porch and reception hall extended the large bar-room, +where several score of men were enjoying their liquors and lunches, +and the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and the noise +made by the skilful mixer of drinks were as sweet music to the +manager, when shortly after he strode to the bar. Wearing neither coat +nor vest, the bartender's ruffled shirt displayed a glistening stone; +the sleeves were ornamented with gold buttons and the lace collar had +a Byronic roll. + +"What will you have, sir?" he said in a well-modulated voice to a big +Virginian, who had preceded Barnes into the room. + +"A julep," was the reply, "and, while you are making it, a little +whisky straight." + +A bottle of bourbon was set before him, and he wasted no valuable time +while the bartender manipulated the more complicated drink. +Experiencing the felicity of a man who has entered a higher +civilization, the manager ordered a bottle of iced ale, drank it with +gusto, and, seating himself, was soon partaking of a palatable dish. +By this time the Virginian, joined by a friend, had ordered another +julep for the near future and a little "straight" for the immediate +present. + +"Happy days!" said the former. + +"And yours happier!" replied the newcomer. + +"Why, it's Utopia," thought Barnes. "Every one is happy!" + +But even as he thus ruminated, his glance fell upon an old man at the +next table whom the waiters treated with such deference the manager +concluded he must be some one of no slight importance. This gentleman +was thin, wrinkled and worn, with a face Voltairian in type, his hair +scanty, his dress elegant, and his satirical smile like the "flash of +a dagger in the sunlight." He was inspecting his bouillon with +manifest distrust, adjusting his eye-glass and thrusting his head +close to the plate. The look of suspicion deepened and finally a +grimace of triumph illumined his countenance, as he rapped excitedly +on the table. + +"Waiter, waiter, do you see that soup?" he almost shouted. + +"Yes, Monsieur le Marquis," was the humble response. + +"Look at it well!" thundered the old gentleman. "Do you find nothing +extraordinary about it?" + +Again the bouillon was examined, to the amusement of the manager. + +"I am sorry, Monsieur le Marquis; I can detect nothing unusual," +politely responded the waiter, when he had concluded a pains-taking +scrutiny with all the gravity and seriousness attending so momentous +an investigation. + +"You are blind!" exclaimed the old man. "See there; a spot of grease +floating in the bouillon, and there, another and another! In fact, +here is an 'Archipelago of Greece!'" This witticism was relieved by an +ironical smile. "Take it away!" + +The waiter hurried off with the offending dish and the old man looked +immensely satisfied over the disturbance he had created. + +"Well has it been said," thought the manager, "that the destiny of a +nation depends upon the digestion of its first minister! I wonder what +he'll do next?" + +Course after course that followed was rejected, the guest keeping up a +running comment: + +"This sauce is not properly prepared. This salad is not well mixed. +I shall starve in this place. These truffles; spoiled in the +importation!" + +"Oh, Monsieur le Marquis,"--clasping his hands in despair--"they were +preserved in melted paraffin." + +"What do I care about your paraffin? Never mind anything more, waiter. +I could not eat a mouthful. What is the bill? Very well; and there is +something for yourself, blockhead." + +"Thank you, Monsieur le Marquis." Deferentially. + +"The worst meal I've ever had! And I've been in Europe, Asia and +Africa. Abominable--abominable--idiot of a waiter--miserable place, +miserable--and this dyspepsia--" + +Thus running on, with snatches of caustic criticism, the old gentleman +shambled out, the waiter holding the door open for him and bowing +obsequiously. + +"An amiable individual!" observed Barnes to the waiter. "Is he +stopping at the hotel?" + +"No, Monsieur. He has an elegant house near by. The last time he was +here he complimented the cook and praised the sauces. He is a +little--what you call it?--whimsical!" + +"Yes; slightly inclined that way. But is he here alone?" + +"He is, Monsieur. He loses great sums in the gambling rooms. He keeps +a box at the theater for the season. He is a prince--a great lord--?" + +"Even if he calls you 'liar' and 'blockhead'?" + +"Oh, Monsieur,"--displaying a silver dollar with an expressive shrug +of the shoulders--"this is the--what you call it?--balm." + +"And very good balm, too," said Barnes, heartily. + +Still grumbling to himself, the marquis reached the main corridor, +where the scene was almost as animated as in the bar and where the +principal topic of conversation seemed to be horses and races that had +been or were about to be run. "I'd put Uncle Rastus' mule against that +hoss!" "That four-year-old's quick as a runaway nigger!" "Five +hundred, the gelding beats the runaway nigger!" "Any takers on Jolly +Rogers?" were among the snatches of talk which lent life and zest to +the various groups. + +Sitting moodily in a corner, with legs crossed and hat upon his knee, +was a young man whose careless glance wandered from time to time from +his cigar to the passing figures. As the marquis slowly hobbled along, +with an effort to appear alert, the young man arose quickly and came +forward with a conventional smile, intercepting the old nobleman near +the door. + +"My dear Monsieur le Marquis," he exclaimed, effusively, "it is with +pleasure I see you recovered from your recent indisposition." + +"Recovered!" almost shrieked the marquis. "I'm far from recovered; I'm +worse than ever. I detest congratulations, Monsieur! It's what a lying +world always does when you are on the verge of dissolution." + +"You are as discerning as ever," murmured the land baron--for it was +Edward Mauville. + +"I'm not fit to be around; I only came out"--with a sardonic +chuckle--"because the doctors said it would be fatal." + +"Surely you do not desire--" + +"To show them they are impostors? Yes." + +"And does New Orleans continue to please you?" asked the other, with +some of that pride Southerners entertained in those days for their +queen city. + +"How does the exile like the forced land of his adoption?" returned +the nobleman, irritably. "My king is in exile. Why should I not be +also? Should I stay there, herd with the cattle, call every shipjack +'Citizen' and every clod 'Brother'; treat every scrub as though she +were a duchess?" + +"There is, indeed, a regrettable tendency to deify common clay +nowadays," assented the patroon, soothingly. + +"Why, your 'Citizen' regards it as condescension to notice a man of +condition!" said the marquis, violently. "When my king was driven away +by the rabble the ocean was not too broad to separate me from a +swinish civilization. I will never go back; I will live there no +more!" + +"That is good news for us," returned the land baron. + +"Your politeness almost reconciles me to staying," said the old man, +more affably. "But I am on my way to the club. What do you say to a +rubber?" + +The patroon readily assented. In front of the hotel waited the +marquis' carriage, on the door of which was his coat-of-arms--argent, +three mounts vert, on each a sable bird. Entering this conveyance, +they were soon being driven over the stones at a pace which jarred +every bone in the marquis' body and threatened to shake the breath of +life from his trembling and attenuated figure. He jumped about like a +parched pea, and when finally they drew up with a jerk and a jolt, the +marquis was fairly gasping. After an interval to recover himself, he +took his companion's arm, and, with his assistance, mounted the broad +steps leading to the handsome and commodious club house. + +"At least," said the nobleman, dryly, as he paused on the stairs, "our +pavements are so well-kept in Paris that a drive there in a tumbril to +the scaffold is preferable to a coach in New Orleans!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"ONLY AN INCIDENT" + + +To the scattering of the anti-renters by the rescue party that +memorable night at the manor the land baron undoubtedly owed his +safety. Beyond reach of personal violence in a neighboring town, +without his own domains, from which he was practically exiled, he had +sought redress in the courts, only to find his hands tied, with no +convincing clue to the perpetrators of these outrages. On the patroon +lay the burden of proof, and he found it more difficult than he had +anticipated to establish satisfactorily any kind of a case, for alibis +blocked his progress at every turn. + +At war with his neighbors, and with little taste for the monotony of a +northern winter, he bethought him of his native city, determined to +leave the locality and at a distance wait for the turmoil to subside. +His brief dream of the rehabilitation of the commonwealth brought only +memories stirring him to restlessness. He made inquiries about the +strollers, but to no purpose. The theatrical band had come and gone +like gipsies. + +Saying nothing to any one, except Scroggs, to whom he entrusted a load +of litigation, he at length quietly departed in the regular stage, +until he reached a point where two strap rails proclaimed the new +method of conveyance. Wedged in the small compartment of a little car +directly behind a smoking monster, with an enormous chimney, fed with +cord-wood, he was borne over the land, and another puffing marvel of +different construction carried him over the water. Reaching the +Crescent City some time before the strollers--his progress expedited +by a locomotive that ran full twenty miles an hour!--the land baron +found among the latest floating population, comprised of all sorts and +conditions, the Marquis de Ligne. The blood of the patroons flowed +sluggishly through the land baron's veins, but his French extraction +danced in every fiber of his being. After learning the more important +and not altogether discreditable circumstances about the land baron's +ancestors--for if every gentleman were whipped for godlessness, how +many striped backs would there be!--the marquis, who declined intimacy +with Tom, Dick and Harry, and their honest butchers, bakers and +candlestick-makers of forefathers, permitted an acquaintance that +accorded with his views governing social intercourse. + +"This is a genuine pleasure, Monsieur le Marquis," observed the land +baron suavely, when the two found themselves seated in a card room +with brandy and soda before them. "To meet a nobleman of the old +school is indeed welcome in these days when New Orleans harbors the +refugees of the world, for, strive as we will, outsiders are creeping +in and corrupting our best circles." + +"Soon we shall all be corrupt," croaked the old man. "France--but what +can you expect of a nation that exiles kings!" + +"Ah, Louis Philippe! My father once entertained him here in New +Orleans," said Mauville. + +"Indeed?" remarked the marquis with interest. + +"It was when he visited the city in 1798 with his brothers, the Duke +of Montpensier and the Count of Beaujolais. New Orleans then did not +belong to America. France was not so eager to sell her fair +possessions in those days. I remember my father often speaking of the +royal visit. The king even borrowed money, which"--laughing--"he +forgot to pay!" + +The marquis' face was a study, as he returned stiffly: "Sir, it is a +king's privilege to borrow." + +"It is his immortal prerogative," answered Mauville easily. "I only +mentioned it to show how highly he honored my father." + +The nobleman lifted his eyebrows, steadily regarding his companion. + +"It was a great honor," he said softly. "One does not lend to a king. +When Louis Philippe borrowed from your father he lent luster to your +ancestry." + +"Yes; I doubt not my father regarded himself as the debtor. Again, we +had another distinguished compatriot of yours at our house--General +Lafayette." + +"Lafayette!" repeated the marquis. "Ah, that's another matter! A man, +born to rank and condition, voluntarily sinking to the level of the +commonalty! A person of breeding choosing the cause of the rout and +rabble! How was he received?" + +"Like a king!" laughed Mauville. "A vast concourse of people assembled +before the river when he embarked on the 'Natchez' for St. Louis." + +Muttering something about "_bourgeoisie!--épicier!_" the nobleman +partook of the liquid consolation before him, which seemed to brighten +his spirits. + +"If my doctors could see me now! Dolts! Quacks!" + +"It's a good joke on them," said Mauville, ironically. + +"Isn't it? They forbid me touching stimulants. Said they would be +fatal! Impostors! Frauds! They haven't killed me yet, have they?" + +"If so, you are a most agreeable and amiable ghost," returned +Mauville. + +"An amiable ghost!" cackled the old man. "Ha! Ha! you must have your +joke! But don't let me have such a ghastly one again. I don't +like"--in a lower tone--"jests about the spirits of the other world." + +"What! A well-seasoned materialist like you!" + +"An idle prejudice!" answered the marquis. "Only when you compared me +to a ghost"--in a half whisper--"it seemed as though I were one, a +ghost of myself looking back through years of pleasure--years of +pleasure!" + +"A pleasant perspective such memories make, I am sure," observed the +land baron. + +"Memories," repeated the marquis, wagging his head. "Existence is +first a memory and then a blank. But you have been absent from New +Orleans, Monsieur?" + +"I have been north to look after certain properties left me by a +distant relative--peace to his ashes!" + +"Only on business?" leered the marquis. "No affair of the heart? You +know the saying: 'Love makes time pass--'" + +"'And time makes love pass,'" laughed Mauville, somewhat unnaturally, +his cynicism fraught with a twinge. "Nothing of the kind, I assure +you! But you, Marquis, are not the only exile." + +The nobleman raised his brows interrogatively. + +"You fled from France; I fled from the ancestral manor. The tenants +claimed the farms were theirs. I attempted to turn them out and--they +turned me out! I might as well have inherited a hornet's nest. It was +a legacy-of hate! The old patroon must have chuckled in his grave! One +night they called with the intention of hanging me." + +"My dear sir, I congratulate you!" exclaimed the nobleman +enthusiastically. + +"Thanks!" Dryly. + +"It is the test of gentility. They only hang or cut off the heads of +people of distinction nowadays." + +"Gad! then I came near joining the ranks of the well-born angels. But +for an accident I should now be a cherub of quality." + +"And how, Monsieur, did you escape such a felicitous fate?" + +The land baron's face clouded. "Through a stranger--a Frenchman--a +silent, taciturn fellow--more or less an adventurer, I take it. He +called himself Saint-Prosper--" + +"Saint-Prosper!" + +The marquis gazed at Mauville with amazement and incredulity. He might +even have flushed or turned pale, but such a possible exhibition of +emotion was lost beneath an artificial bloom, painted by his valet. +His eyes, however, gleamed like candles in a death's head. + +"This Saint-Prosper you met was a soldier?" he asked, and his voice +trembled. "Ernest Saint-Prosper?" + +"Yes; he was a soldier; served in Africa, I believe. You knew him?" +Turning to the marquis in surprise. + +"Knew him! He was my ward, the rascal!" cried the other violently. "He +was, but now--ingrate!--traitor!--better if he were dead!" + +"You speak bitterly, Monsieur le Marquis?" said the patroon +curiously. + +"Bitterly!--after his conduct!--he is no longer anything to me! He is +dead to me--dead!" + +"How did he deviate from the line of duty?" asked Mauville, with +increasing interest, and an eagerness his light manner did not +disguise. "A sin of omission or commission?" + +"Eh? What?" mumbled the old nobleman, staring at his questioner, and, +on a sudden, becoming taciturn. "A family affair!" he added finally, +with dignity. "Not worth repeating! But what was he doing there?" + +"He had joined a strolling band of players," said the other, +concealing his disappointment as best he might at his companion's +evasive reply. + +"A Saint-Prosper become an actor!" shouted the marquis, his anger +again breaking forth. "Has he not already dragged an honored name in +the dust? A stroller! A player!" The marquis fairly gasped at the +enormity of the offense; for a moment he was speechless, and then +asked feebly: "What caused him to take such a humiliating step?" + +"He is playing the hero of a romance," said the land baron, moodily. +"I confess he has excellent taste, though! The figure of a Juno--eyes +like stars on an August night--features proud as Diana--the voice of a +siren--in a word, picture to yourself your fairest conquest, Monsieur +le Marquis, and you will have a worthy counterpart of this rose of the +wilderness!" + +"My fairest conquest!" piped the listener. With lack-luster eyes he +remained motionless like a traveler in the desert who gazes upon a +mirage. "You have described her well. The features of Diana! It was +at a revival of Vanbrugh's 'Relapse' I first met her, dressed after +the fashion of the Countess of Ossory. Who would not worship before +the figures of Lely?" + +He half closed his eyes, as though gazing in fancy upon the glossy +draperies and rosy flesh of those voluptuous court beauties. + +"The wooing, begun in the wings, ended in an ivy-covered villa--a +retired nook--solitary walks by day--nightingales and moonshine by +night. It was a pleasing romance while it lasted, but joy palls on +one. Nature abhors sameness. The heart is like Mother Earth--ever +varying. I wearied of this surfeit of Paradise and--left her!" + +"A mere incident in an eventful life," said his companion, thoughtfully. + +"Yes; only an incident!" repeated the marquis. "Only an incident! I +had almost forgotten it, but your conversation about players and your +description of the actress brought it to mind. It had quite passed +away; it had quite passed away! But the cards, Monsieur Mauville; the +cards!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AT THE RACES + + +For several days, after rehearsals were over, the strollers were +free to amuse themselves as they pleased. Their engagement at the +theater did not begin for about a week, and meanwhile they managed +to combine recreation with labor in nearly equal proportions. +Assiduously they devoted themselves to a round of drives and +rambles: through pastures and wood-land to Carrolton; along the shell +road to Lake Pontchartrain; to Biloxi, the first settlement of the +French; and to the battle grounds, once known as the plains of +Chalmette, where volunteer soldiers were now encamped, awaiting +orders to go to the front in the Mexican campaign. For those who +craved greater excitement, the three race-courses--the Louisiana, +the Metairie and the Carrolton offered stimulating diversion. + +Within sight of the Metairie were the old dueling grounds, under +the oaks, where, it is related, on one Sunday in '39 ten duels +occurred; where the contestants frequently fought on horseback with +sabers; and, where the cowherds, says a chronicler, became so +accustomed to seeing honor satisfied in this manner that they paid +little attention to these meetings, pursuing their own humble +duties, indifferent to the follies of fashionable society. The +fencing schools flourished--what memories cluster around that odd, +strange master of the blade, Spedella, a melancholy enigma of a +man, whose art embodied much of the finest shading and phrasing +peculiar to himself; from whom even many of Bonaparte's discarded +veterans were not above acquiring new technique and temperament! +Men in those days were most punctilious about reputation, but +permitted a sufficiently wide latitude in its interpretation not to +hamper themselves or seriously interfere with their desires or +pleasures. Thus, virtue did not become a burden, nor honor a +millstone. Both, like epaulets or tassels, were worn lightly and +befittingly. + +Shortly after the players' arrival began the celebrated Leduc matches, +attracting noted men and women from all over the South. The hotels +were crowded, the lodging-houses filled, while many of the large homes +hospitably opened their doors to visiting friends. The afternoons +found the city almost deserted; the bartenders discontentedly smoked +in solitude; the legion of waiters in the hotels and resorts became +reduced to a thinly scattered array; while even the street venders had +"folded their tents" and silently stolen to the races. On one such +memorable occasion most of the members of Barnes' company repaired to +the Metairie. + +Below the grand stand, brilliant with color, strutted the dandies +attending to their bets; above they played a winning or losing game +with the fair sex. Intrigue and love-making were the order of the +hour, and these daughters of the South beguiled time--and mortals!--in +a heyday of pleasure. In that mixed gathering burly cotton planters +from the country rubbed elbows with aristocratic creoles, whose attire +was distinguishable by enormous ruffles and light boots of cloth. The +professional follower of these events, the importunate tout, also +mingled with the crowd, plainly in evidence by the pronounced +character of his dress, the size of his diamond studs or cravat pin, +and the massive dimensions of his finger rings. No paltry, scrubby +track cadger was this resplendent gentleman, but a picturesque rogue, +with impudence as pronounced as his jewels! + +Surrounded by a bevy of admirers, Susan, sprightly and sparkling, +was an example of that "frippery one of her sex is made up with, a +pasticcio of gauzes, pins and ribbons that go to compound that +multifarious thing, a well-dressed woman." Ever ready with a +quick retort, she bestowed her favors generously, to the evident +discomfiture of a young officer in her retinue whom she had met +several days before, and who, ever since, had coveted a full +harvest of smiles, liking not a little the first sample he had +gathered. However, it was not Susan's way to entrust herself fully +to any one; it was all very interesting to play one against +another; to intercept angry gleams; to hold in check clashing +suitors--this was exciting and diverting--but she exercised care +not to transgress those bounds where she ceased to be mistress of +the situation. Perhaps her limits in coquetry were further set +than most women would have ventured to place them, but without +this temerity and daring, the pastime would have lost its charm for +her. She might play with edged tools, but she also knew how to +use them. + +Near her was seated Kate, indolent as of yore, now watching her sister +with an indulgent, enigmatic expression, anon permitting a scornful +glance to stray toward Adonis, who, for his part, had eyes only for +his companion, a distinct change from country hoidens, tavern +demoiselles and dainty wenches, with their rough hands and rosy +cheeks. This lady's hands were like milk; her cheeks, ivory, and +Adonis in bestowing his attentions upon her, had a two-fold purpose: +to return tit for tat for Kate's flaunting ways, and to gratify his +own ever-fleeting fancy. + +In a box, half the length of the grand stand removed, some distance +back and to the left of Susan's gay party, Constance, Mrs. Adams and +the soldier were also observers of this scene of animation. + +Since the manager's successful flight from the landlord and the +constables, the relations of the young girl and Saint-Prosper had +undergone little change. At first, it is true, with the memory of +the wild ride to the river fresh in her mind, and the more or less +disturbing recollections of that strange, dark night, a certain +reticence had marked her manner toward the soldier; but, as time +went by, this touch of reserve wore off, and was succeeded by her +usual frankness or gaiety. In her eyes appeared, at times, a new +thoughtfulness, but for no longer period than the quick passing of +a summer cloud over a sunny meadow. This half-light of brief +conjecture or vague retrospection only mellowed the depths of her +gaze, and Barnes alone noted and wondered. + +But to-day no partial shadows lay under the black, shading lashes; the +exhilarating scene, the rapidly succeeding events, the turbulence and +flutter around her, were calculated to dispel the most pronounced +abstraction. Beneath a protecting parasol--for the sunlight shot below +the roof at the back and touched that part of the grand stand--a faint +glow warmed her cheeks, while her eyes shone with the gladness of the +moment. Many of the dandies, regarding her with marked persistency, +asked who she was, and none knew, until finally Editor-Rhymster Straws +was appealed to. Straws, informed on all matters, was able to satisfy +his questioners. + +"She is an actress," said Straws. "So we are told. We shall find out +next week. She is a beauty. We can tell that now." + +"You're right, Straws!" exclaimed a pitch-and-toss youngster. "If she +shows as well at the wire--" + +"You'd take a long chance on her winning?" laughed the philosopher. + +"I'll play you odds on it!" cried the juvenile. "Four to one, damme! +I'll risk that on her eyes." + +"Four to one on a lady's eyes, child! Say forty to one, and take the +hazard of the die." + +Standing near the rhymster, story-writer and journalist, was a tall +young man, dressed in creole fashion. He followed the glances of +Straws' questioners and a pallor overspread his dark complexion as he +looked at the object of their attention. + +"The stroller!" he exclaimed half audibly. "Her counterpart doesn't +exist." + +He stepped back where he could see her more plainly. In that sea of +faces, her features alone shone before him, clearly, insistently. + +"Do you know her, Mr. Mauville?" asked the rhymster, observing that +steadfast glance. + +"Know her?" repeated the land baron, starting. "Oh, I've seen her +act." + +"Tip me off her points and I'll tip my readers." + +"She is going to play here then?" said the patroon. + +"Yes. What is she like? Does tragedy or comedy favor her most? +You see," he added apologetically, "when people begin to talk +about anybody, we Grubstreet hacks thrive on the gossip. It is +deplorable"--with regret--"but small talk and tattle bring more +than a choice lyric or sonnet. And, heaven help us!"--shaking his +head--"what a vendible article a fine scandal is! It sells fast, +like goods at a Dutch auction. Penny a line? More nearly six +pence! If I could only bring myself to deal in such merchandise! +If I were only a good rag picker, instead of a bad poet!" And Straws +walked away, forgetting the questions he had asked in his own +more interesting cogitations. + +Without definite purpose, the patroon, who had listened with scant +attention to the poet, began to move slowly toward the actress, and at +that moment, the eyes of the soldier, turning to the saddling paddock, +where the horses were being led out, fell upon the figure drawing +near, recognizing in him the heir to the manor, Edward Mauville. +Construing in his approach a deliberate intention, a flush of quick +anger overspread Saint-Prosper's face and he glanced at the girl by +his side. But her manner assured him she had not observed the land +baron, for at that moment she was looking in the opposite direction, +endeavoring to discover Barnes or the others of the company in the +immense throng. + +Murmuring some excuse to his unconscious companion and cutting short +the wiry old lady's reminiscences of the first public trotting race in +1818, the soldier left the box, and, moving with some difficulty +through the crowd, met Mauville in the aisle near the stairway. The +latter's face expressed surprise, not altogether of an agreeable +nature, at the encounter, but he immediately regained his composure. + +"Ah, Monsieur Saint-Prosper," he observed easily, "I little thought to +see you here." + +"Nor I you!" said the other bluntly. + +The patroon gazed in seeming carelessness from the soldier to the +young girl. Saint-Prosper's presence in New Orleans could be accounted +for; he had followed her from the Shadengo Valley across the +continent; the drive begun at the country inn--he looking down from +the dormer window to witness the start--had been a long one; very +different from his own brief flight, with its wretched end. These +thoughts coursed rapidly through the land baron's brain; her +appearance rekindled the ashes of the past; the fire in his breast +flamed from his eyes, but otherwise he made no display of feeling. He +glanced out upon the many faces below them, bowing to one woman and +smiling at another. + +"Oh, I couldn't stand a winter in the North," resumed the patroon, +turning once more to the soldier. "Although the barn-burners promised +to make it warm for me!" + +Offering no reply to this sally, Saint-Prosper's gaze continued to +rest coldly and expectantly upon the other. Goaded by that arbitrary +regard, an implied barrier between him and the young girl, the land +baron sought to press forward; his glittering eyes met the other's; +the glances they exchanged were like the thrust and parry of swords. +Without wishing to address the actress--and thereby risk a public +rebuff--it was, nevertheless, impossible for the hot-blooded +Southerner to submit to peremptory restraint. Who had made the soldier +his taskmaster? He read Saint-Prosper's purpose and was not slow to +retaliate. + +"If I am not mistaken, yonder is our divinity of the lane," said the +patroon softly. "Permit me." And he strove to pass. + +The soldier did not move. + +"You are blocking my way, Monsieur," continued the other, sharply. + +"Not if it lies the other way." + +"This way, or that way, how does it concern you?" retorted the land +baron. + +"If you seek further to annoy a lady whom you have already sufficiently +wronged, it is any man's concern." + +"Especially if he has followed her across the country," sneered +Mauville. "Besides, since when have actresses become so chary of their +favors?" In his anger the land baron threw out intimations he would +have challenged from other lips. "Has the stage then become a holy +convent?" + +"You stamped yourself a scoundrel some time ago," said the soldier +slowly, as though weighing each word, "and now show yourself a coward +when you malign a young girl, without father, brother--" + +"Or lover!" interrupted the land baron. "Perhaps, however, you were +only traveling to see the country! A grand tour, enlivened with +studies of human nature, as well as glimpses of scenery!" + +"Have you anything further with me?" interjected Saint-Prosper, +curtly. + +The patroon's blood coursed, burning, through his veins; the other's +contemptuous manner stung him more fiercely than language. + +"Yes," he said, meaningly, his eyes challenging Saint-Prosper's. "Have +you been at Spedella's fencing rooms? Are you in practice?" + +Saint-Prosper hesitated a moment and the land baron's face fell. Was +it possible the other would refuse to meet him? But he would not let +him off easily; there were ways to force--and suddenly the words of +the marquis recurring to him, he surveyed the soldier, disdainfully. + +"Gad! you must come of a family of cowards and traitors! But you shall +fight or--the public becomes arbiter!" And he half raised his arm +threateningly. + +The soldier's tanned cheek was now as pale as a moment before it had +been flushed; his mouth set resolutely, as though fighting back some +weakness. With lowering brows and darkening glance he regarded the +land baron. + +"I was thinking," he said at length, with an effort, "that if I killed +you, people would want to know the reason." + +The patroon laughed. "How solicitous you are for her welfare--and +mine! Do you then measure skill only by inches? If so, I confess you +would stand a fair chance of despatching me. But your address? The St. +Charles, I presume." The soldier nodded curtly, and, having +accomplished his purpose, Mauville had turned to leave, when loud +voices, in a front box near the right aisle, attracted general +attention from those occupying that part of the grand stand. The young +officer who had accompanied Susan to the races was angrily confronting +a thick-set man, the latest recruit to her corps of willing captives. +The lad had assumed the arduous task of guarding the object of his +fancy from all comers, simply because she had been kind. And why +should she not have been?--he was only a boy--she was old enough to +be--well, an adviser! When, after a brief but pointed altercation, he +flung himself away with a last reproachful look in the direction of +his enslaver, Susan looked hurt. That was her reward for being nice to +a child! + +"A fractious young cub!" said the thick-set man, complacently. + +"Well, I like cubs better than bears!" retorted Susan, pointedly. + +Not long, however, could the interest of the spectators be diverted +from the amusement of the day and soon all eyes were drawn once more +to the track where the horses' hoofs resounded with exciting patter, +as they struggled toward the wire, urged by the stimulating voices of +the jockeys. + +But even when Leduc won the race, beating the best heat on record; +when the ladies in the grand stand arose in a body, like a thousand +butterflies, disturbed by a sudden footfall in a sunlit field; when +the jockey became the hero of the hour; when the small boys outside +nearly fell from the trees in their exuberance of ecstasy, and the men +threw their hats in the air and shouted themselves hoarse--even these +exhilarating circumstances failed to reawaken the land baron's concern +in the scene around him. His efforts at indifference were chafing his +inmost being; the cloak of _insouciance_ was stifling him; the +primeval man was struggling for expression, that brute-like rage whose +only limits are its own fury and violence. + +A quavering voice, near at hand, recalled him to himself, and turning, +he beheld the marquis approaching with mincing manner, the paint and +pigments cracked by the artificial smiles wreathing his wrinkled face. +In that vast assemblage, amid all the energy, youth and surfeit of +vitality, he seemed like a dried and crackling leaf, tossed +helplessly, which any foot might crush to dust. The roar of the +multitude subsided, a storm dying in the distance; the ladies sank in +their seats--butterflies settling once more in the fields--and Leduc, +with drooping head, was led to the paddock, followed by a few fair +adorers. + +"I placed the winner, Monsieur Mauville," piped the marquis. "Though +the doctors told me the excitement would kill me! What folly! Every +new sensation adds a day to life." + +"In your case, certainly, Marquis, for I never saw you looking +younger," answered the land baron, with an effort. + +"You are too amiable, my dear friend! The ladies would not think so," +he added, mournfully wagging his head with anile melancholy. + +"Nonsense!" protested the other. "With your spirit, animation--" + +"If I thought you were right," interrupted the delighted marquis, +taking his young friend's arm, "I would ask you to present me to the +lady over there--the one you just bowed to." + +"The deuce!" said Mauville to himself. "The marquis is becoming a +bore." + +"You rascal! I saw the smile she gave you," continued the other +playfully. "And you ran away from her. What are the young men made of +nowadays? In the old days they were tinder; women sparks. But who is +she?" + +"You mean Susan Duran, the actress?" + +"An actress!" exclaimed the nobleman. "A charming creature at any +rate!" + +"All froth; a bubble!" added Mauville impatiently. + +"How entertaining! Any lovers?" leered the nobleman. + +"A dozen; a baker's dozen, for all I know!" + +"What is her history?" said the marquis eagerly. + +"I never inquired." + +"Sometimes it's just as well," murmured the other vaguely. "How old is +she?" + +"How can you tell?" answered Mauville. + +"In Paris I kept a little book wherein was entered the _passe-parole_ +of every pretty woman; age; lovers platonic! When a woman became a +grandmother, I put a black mark against her name, for I have always +held," continued the nobleman, wagging his head, "that a woman who is +a grandmother has no business to deceive a younger generation of men. +But present me to Miss Susan at once, my dear friend. I am all +impatience to meet her." + +His eagerness permitted no refusal; besides, Mauville was not in the +mood to enjoy the nobleman's society, and was but too pleased to turn +him over to the tender care of Susan. + +"How do you do, Miss Duran," he said, having made his way to her box. + +"Where did you drop from?" she asked, in surprise, giving him her +hand. + +"The skies," he returned, with forced lightness. + +"A fallen angel!" commented Susan. + +"Good! Charming!" cried the marquis, clapping his withered hands. + +"Miss Duran, the Marquis de Ligne has requested the pleasure of +meeting you." + +She flashed a smile at him. He bent over her hand; held it a moment in +his icy grasp. + +"The pleasure," said Susan, prettily, not shirking the ordeal, "is +mine." + +"In which case," added Mauville, half ironically, "I will leave you +together to enjoy your happiness." + +Eagerly availing himself of the place offered at her side, soon the +marquis was cackling after the manner of a senile beau of the old +school; relating spicy anecdotes of dames who had long departed this +realm of scandal; and mingling witticism and wickedness in one +continual flow, until like a panorama another age was revived in his +words--an age when bedizened women wore patches and their perfumed +gallants wrote verses on the demise of their lap-dogs; when "their +virtue resembled a statesman's religion, the Quaker's word, the +gamester's oath and the great man's honor--but to cheat those that +trusted them!" + +The day's events, however, were soon over; the city of pleasure +finally capitulated; its people began rapidly to depart. That sudden +movement resembled the migration of a swarm of bees to form a new +colony, when, if the day be bright, the expedition issues forth with +wondrous rapidity. So this human hive commenced to empty itself of +queens, drones and workers. It was an outgoing wave of such life and +animation as is apparent in the flight of a swarm of cell-dwellers, +giving out a loud and sharp-toned hum from the action of their wings +as they soar over the blooming heather and the "bright consummate +flowers." And these human bees had their passions, too! their +massacres; their tragedies; their "Rival Queens"; their combats; their +sentinels; their dreams of that Utopian form of government realized in +the communistic society of insects. + +"How did you enjoy it, my dear?" asked Barnes, suddenly reappearing at +Constance's box. "A grand heat, that! Though I did bet on the wrong +horse! But don't wait for us, Saint-Prosper. Mrs. Adams and I will +take our time getting through the crowd. I will see you at the hotel, +my dear!" he added, as the soldier and Constance moved away. + +Only the merry home-going remained, and the culmination, a dinner at +Moreau's, Victor's, or Miguel's, the natural epilogue to the day's +pastime, the tag to the comedy! In the returning throng were creoles +with sky-blue costumes and palmetto hats; the Lafourche or Attakapas +planter; representatives of the older régime and the varied newer +populace. Superb equipages mingled in democratic confusion with carts +and wagons; the broken-winded nag and spavined crowbait--veterans at +the bugle call!--pricked up their ears and kicked up their heels like +colts in pasture, while the delighted darkies thumped their bony +shanks to encourage this brief rejuvenescence. + +Those who had lost felt the money well spent; those who had won would +be the more lavish in the spending. They had simply won a few more +pleasures. "Quick come; quick go!" sang the whirling wheels. "The +niggard in pound and pence is a usurer in happiness; a miser driving a +hard bargain with pleasure. Better burn the candle at both ends than +not burn it at all! In one case, you get light; in the other nothing +but darkness. Laughter is cheap at any price. A castle in the air is +almost as durable as Solomon's temple. How soon--how soon both fade +away!" + +Thus ran the song of the wheels before them and behind them, as the +soldier and Constance joined the desultory fag-end of the procession. +On either side of the road waved the mournful cypress, draped by the +hoary tillandsia, and from the somber depths of foliage came the chirp +of the tree-crickets and the note of the swamp owl. Faint music, in +measured rhythm, a foil to disconnected wood-sound, was wafted from a +distant plantation. + +"Wait!" said Constance. + +He drew in the horses and silently they listened. Or, was he +listening? His glance seemed bent so moodily--almost!--on space she +concluded he was not. She stole a sidelong look at him. + +"A penny for your thoughts!" she said gaily. + +He started. "I was thinking how soon I might leave New Orleans." + +"Leave New Orleans!" she repeated in surprise. "But I thought you +intended staying here. Why have you changed your mind?" + +Did he detect a subtle accent of regret in her voice? A deep flush +mounted to his brow. He bent over her suddenly, eagerly. + +"Would it matter--if I went?" + +She drew back at the abruptness of his words. + +"How unfair to answer one question with another!" she said lightly. + +A pause fell between them. Perhaps she, too, felt the sudden repulse +of her own answer and the ensuing constraint. Perhaps some compunction +moved her to add in a voice not entirely steady: + +"And so you think--of going back to France?" + +"To France!" he repeated, quickly. "No"--and stopped. + +Looking up, a half-questioning light in her eyes took flight to his, +until suddenly arrested by the hard, set expression of his features. +Abruptly chilled by she knew not what, her lashes fell. The horses +champed their bits and tugged at the reins, impatient of the prolonged +pause. + +"Let us go!" she said in a low, constrained voice. + +At her words he turned, the harshness dropping from his face like a +discarded mask; the lines of determination wavering. + +"Let us go!" she said again, without looking up. + +He made no motion to obey, until the sound of a vehicle behind them +seemed to break the spell and mechanically he touched the horses with +the whip. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LEAR AND JULIET + + +Susan dismissed her admirers at the races with some difficulty, +especially the tenacious marquis, who tenderly squeezed her hand, +saying: + +"Were I twenty years younger, I would not thus be set aside." + +"Fie, Marquis!" she returned. "These other people are dull, while you +are charmingly wicked." + +"You flatter me," he cackled, detaining her, to the impatience of the +thick-set man who was waiting to escort the young woman back to town. +"But do you notice the gentleman over there with the medals?" + +"The distinguished-looking man?" asked Susan. + +"Yes; that is the Count de Propriac. It was he who was one of the +agents of Louis Philippe in the Spanish double marriage plot. It was +arranged the queen should marry her cousin, and her sister the son of +Louis Philippe. The queen and her cousin were not expected to have +children--but had them, to spite us all, and Louis Philippe's projects +for the throne of Spain failed disastrously." + +"How inconsiderate of the queen! Good afternoon, marquis! I have been +vastly entertained." + +"And I"--kissing her hand--"enamored!" Then, chuckling: "A week ago my +stupid doctors had me laid out in funereal dignity, and now I am +making love to a fine woman. Pretty pouting lips!"--tapping her chin +playfully--"Like rose-buds! Happy the lover who shall gather the dew! +But we meet again, Mistress Susan?" + +"That will depend upon you, marquis," answered Susan, coquettishly, as +a thought flashed through her mind that it would not be unpleasant to +be called "Marquise," or "Marchioness"--she did not quite know which +would be the proper title. It was nearly vesper-time with the old +nobleman; he seemed but a procrastinating presence in the evening of +mortal life; a chateau and carriage-- + +"Then we will meet again," said the marquis, interrupting these +new-born ambitions. + +"In that case you would soon get tired of me," laughed Susan. + +"Never!" Tenderly. "When may I see you?" + +"How importunate you are! Call when you will." + +"But if you are out"--he insisted. + +"That will make it the more delightfully uncertain," she said gaily. + +"So it will!" Rubbing his hands. "Delightfully uncertain!" he +repeated. And he departed with many protestations, taking no more +notice of the thick-set man than if he were a block of wood. + +"What an old ape!" growled the latter, viciously, as the marquis +ambled from their stall. + +"Do you think so?" answered Susan, tossing her head. "He has that air +of distinction which only persons of rank and title can command." + +"Distinction!" said the other, who was but a well-to-do merchant. "I +should call it bad manners." + +"Because he never noticed you!" laughed Susan, spitefully. "But why +are we standing here? I believe you expect to take me home, don't +you?" + +Although she chattered like a magpie on the road, he was silent and +sullen, nursing his injured pride and wounded self-sufficiency. Susan, +who was interested in him for the novel reason she disliked him so +heartily, parted from him with the air of a duchess, and entered the +hotel, holding her head so high that he swore under his breath as he +drove away. And, as a result of the quarrel with the lad, he would +probably have to risk being "pinked" for this jade! Susan, on the +other hand, was as happy as a lark when she entered the dining-room of +the St. Charles, that great eating-place and meeting-place of all +classes of people. + +As she seated herself at a table, a smile lurked around the corners of +her mouth and flickered faintly upon the waiter who forthwith became a +Mercury for expedition and a prodigal for variety. Her quarrel on the +road with her companion had in nowise interfered with that appetite +which the fresh air and the lateness of the hour had provoked, nor +were her thoughts of a character to deter from the zest of eating. + +From the present to the past was but an instant's flight of the +mind--thus may the once august years swiftly and unceremoniously be +marshaled by!--and she dwelt in not unpleasing retrospection on an +endless field of investigation and discovery and the various +experiences which had befallen her in arriving at the present period +of mature knowledge; a proficiency which converted her chosen +researches into an exact science. + +Thus meditating and dining--counting on her fingers twice over +the fair actresses who had become titled ladies, and enviously +disbelieving she would join that triumphant company--Susan was +still seated at the table some time later when the soldier glanced +in. Imperatively she motioned him to her side and he obeyed with +not entirely concealed reluctance, and was so preoccupied, she +rallied him upon his reserve. + +"I believe you and Constance had a quarrel on the road." Maliciously. +"I hope you were more amiable than my companion. He hardly spoke a +word, and, when I left him"--her voice sank to a whisper--"I heard him +swear." + +"He pleased you so much earlier in the day that a duel will probably +be the outcome." + +Susan laughed gaily. + +"A duel! Then my fortune is made. All the newspapers will contain +paragraphs. It is too good to be true." And she clapped her hands. +"When is it to take place? Tell me about it!" + +Then noting his manner, she continued with an assumption of +plaintiveness: "Now you are cross with me! You think me heartless. Is +it my fault? I care nothing for either of them and I am not to be +blamed if they are so foolish. It might be different if either had +touched my heart." And she assumed a coquettish demeanor, while +Saint-Prosper coolly studied her through the wreaths of smoke from his +weed. + +"You are wondering what sort of a person I am!" she continued, +merrily, raising her glass of wine with: "To unrequited passion!" + +Her roguish face sparkled as he asked; "Whose?" + +She drained the glass and set it down demurely. "Mine!" + +The cigar was suspended; the veil cleared between them. + +"For whom?" he said. + +"You!" Offering him the limpid depths of her blue eyes. "Is my liking +returned?" + +"Liking? Perhaps!" + +"My love?" + +"Love? No." Coldly. + +"You do not fear a woman scorned?" Her lips curved in a smile, +displaying her faultless teeth. + +"Not when the avenging angel is so charming and so heartless!" he +added satirically. + +Her lashes veiled the azure orbs. + +"You think to disarm her with a compliment? How well you understand +women!" And, as he rose, the pressure of the hand she gave him at +parting was lingering. + + * * * * * + +Above in his room, Barnes, with plays and manuscripts scattered around +him, was engaged in writing in his note and date book, wherein +autobiography, ledger and journal accounts, and such miscellaneous +matter mingled indiscriminately. "To-day she said to me: 'I am going +to the races with Mr. Saint-Prosper.' What did I say? 'Yes,' of +course. What can there be in common between Lear and Juliet? +Naturally, she sometimes turns from an old fellow like me--now, if she +were only a slip of a girl again--with her short frock--her disorder +of long ringlets--running and romping-- + +"A thousand details pass through my mind, reminiscences of her +girlhood, lightening a lonesome life like glimmerings of sunshine in a +secluded wood; memories of her mother and the old days when she played +in my New York theater--for Barnes, the stroller, was once a +metropolitan manager! Her fame had preceded her and every admirer of +histrionic art eagerly awaited her arrival. + +"But the temple of art is a lottery. The town that had welcomed her so +wildly now went Elssler-mad. The gossamer floatings of this French +_danseuse_ possessed everyone. People courted trash and trumpery. +Greatness gave way to triviality. This pitiful condition preyed upon +her. The flame of genius never for a moment became less dim, but her +eyes grew larger, brighter, more melancholy. Sometimes she would fall +into a painful reverie and I knew too well the subject of her +thoughts. With tender solicitude she would regard her daughter, +thinking, thinking! She was her only hope, her only joy! + +"'The town wants dancers, not tragedians, Mr. Barnes,' she said sadly +one day. + +"'Nonsense,' I replied. 'The town wants a change of bill. We will put +on a new piece next week.' + +"'It will be but substituting one tragedy for another,' she retorted. +'One misfortune for a different one! You should import a rival dancer. +You are going down; down hill! I will leave you; perhaps you will +discover your dancer, and your fortune is made!' + +"'And you? What would you do?' I demanded. 'And your child?' + +"At this her eyes filled and she could not answer. 'And now, Madam,' I +said firmly, 'I refuse once and for all to permit you to break your +contract. Pooh! The tide will change. Men and women are sometimes +fools; but they are not fools all the time. The dancer will have had +her day. She will twirl her toes to the empty seats and throw her +kisses into unresponsive space. Our patrons will gradually return; +they will grow tired of wriggling and twisting, and look again for a +more substantial diet.' + +"Matters did, indeed, begin to mend somewhat, when to bring the whole +fabric tumbling down on our heads, this incomparable woman fell ill. + +"'You see? I have ruined you,' she said sadly. + +"'I am honored, Madam,' was all I could reply. + +"She placed her hand softly on mine and let her luminous eyes rest on +me. + +"'Dear old friend!' she murmured. + +"Then she closed her eyes and I thought she was sleeping. Some time +elapsed when she again opened them. + +"'Death will break our contract, Mr. Barnes,' she said softly. + +"I suppose my hand trembled, for she tightened her grasp and continued +firmly: 'It is not so terrible, after all, or would not be, but for +one thing.' + +"'You will soon get well, Madam,' I managed to stammer. + +"'No! Do you care? It is pleasant to have one true, kind friend in the +world; one who makes a woman believe again in the nobility of human +nature. My life has been sad as you know. I should not regret giving +it up. Nor should I fear to die. I can not think that God will be +unkind to one who has done her best; at least, has tried to. Yet there +is one thing that makes me crave for life. My child--what will she +do--poor, motherless, fatherless girl--all alone, all alone--. + +"'Madam, if I may--will you permit me to care for her? If I might +regard her as my child!' + +"How tightly she held my hand at that! Her eyes seemed to blaze +with heavenly fire. But let me not dwell further upon the sad +events that led to the end of her noble career. Something of her life +I had heard; something, I surmised. Unhappy as a woman, she was +majestic as an actress; the fire of her voice struck every ear; its +sweetness had a charm, never to be forgotten. But only to those who +knew her well were revealed the unvarying truth and simplicity of her +nature. Even as I write, her spirit, tender and steadfast, seems +standing by my side; I feel her eyes in the darkness of night, and, +when the time comes--and often of late, it has seemed not far--to go +from this mere dressing-room, the earth, into the higher life--" + +A knock at the door rudely dispelled these memories. For a moment the +manager looked startled, as one abruptly called back to his immediate +surroundings; then the pen fell from his hand, and he pushed the book +from him to the center of the table. + +"Come in," he said. + +The door opened and Saint-Prosper entered. + +"Am I interrupting you?" asked the soldier, glancing at the littered +table. + +"Not at all," answered the manager, recovering himself, and settling +back in his chair. "Make yourself at home. You'll find some cigars on +the mantel, or if you prefer your pipe, there's a jar of tobacco on +the trunk. Do you find it? I haven't had time yet to bring order out +of chaos. A manager's trunks are like a junk-shop, with everything +from a needle to an anchor." + +Filling his pipe from the receptacle indicated, which lay among old +costumes and wigs, the soldier seated himself near an open window that +looked out upon a balcony. Through a door at the far end of the +balcony a light streamed from a chandelier within, playing upon the +balustrade. Once the figure of the young actress stepped for a moment +out upon the balcony; she leaned upon the balustrade, looked across +the city, breathed the perfume of the flowers, and then quickly +vanished. + +"Can you spare me a little time to-morrow morning--early--before +rehearsal?" said Saint-Prosper, finally. + +"Yes," returned the manager, in surprise. "What is it?" + +"A foolish piece of business! The patroon is in New Orleans." + +Barnes uttered an exclamation of annoyance and apprehension. "Here! +What is he doing here?" he said. "I thought we had seen the last of +him. Has he followed--Constance?" + +"I don't know. We met yesterday at the races." + +"It is strange she did not tell me about it," remarked the manager, +without endeavoring to conceal the anxiety this unexpected information +afforded him. + +"She does not know he is here." And Saint-Prosper briefly related the +circumstances of his meeting with the land baron, to which the manager +listened attentively. + +"And so she must be dragged into it?" exclaimed Barnes at length, +resentfully. "Her name must become public property in a broil?" + +A frown darkened the soldier's face, but he replied quickly: "Need any +one know? The land baron has not been seen with her." + +"No; but you have," returned the manager, suddenly pausing and looking +down at the other. + +The silence between them lasted for some moments. Barnes stood with +his hands in his pockets, his face downcast and moody. He felt that +events were happening over which he had no control, but which were +shaping the destiny of all he loved best. In the dim light the rugged +lines of his countenance were strongly, decisively outlined. Turning +to the trunk, with a quick, nervous step, he filled a pipe himself. +After he had lighted it, he once more contemplated the soldier, +thinking deeply, reviewing the past. + +"We have been together for some time, Mr. Saint-Prosper," he said, at +length. "We have gone through fair and rough weather, and"--he paused +a moment before continuing--"should understand each other. You asked +me when you came in if you were interrupting me, and I told you that +you were not. As a matter of fact, you were." + +And, walking to a table, Barnes took up the notebook. + +"A garrulous, single man must tell his little secrets somewhere," he +continued. "Will you look at the pages I was writing when you came +in?" + +Saint-Prosper took the book, and, while he was turning the leaves that +were hardly dry, the manager relighted his pipe, over which he glanced +nervously from time to time at his companion. Finally, when the +soldier had finished the perusal of the diary, Barnes turned to him +expectantly, but the other silently laid down the little volume, and, +after waiting some moments for him to speak, the manager, as though +disappointed by his reticence, breathed a sigh. Then, clearing his +throat, in a voice somewhat husky, he went on, simply: + +"You will understand now why she is so much to me. I have always +wanted to keep her from the world as much as possible; to have her +world, her art! I have tried to keep the shadow of the past from her. +An actress has a pretty face; and there's a hue and cry! It is not +notoriety she seeks, but fame; fame, bright and pure as sunlight!" + +"The land baron will not cry abroad the cause of the meeting," said +the soldier, gravely. "These fashionable affairs need but flimsy +pretexts." + +"Flimsy pretexts!" cried Barnes. "A woman's reputation--her good +name--" + +"Hush!" said Saint-Prosper. + + +From the door at the far end of the balcony Constance had again +emerged and now approached their room. A flowing gown of an early +period surrounded her like a cloud as she paused before Barnes' +apartment. At the throat a deep-falling collar was closely fastened; +the sleeves were gathered in at elbow and wrist, and from a +"coverchief," set upon the dusky hair, fell a long veil of ample +proportions. With the light shimmering on the folds of her raiment, +she stood looking through the open door, regarding the manager and +Saint-Prosper. + +"Oh, you are not alone?" she said to the former. "You look as though +you were talking together very seriously?" she added, turning to +Saint-Prosper. + +"Nothing of consequence, Miss Carew!" he replied, flushing beneath her +clear eyes. + +"Only about some scenery!" interposed the manager, so hastily that she +glanced, slightly surprised, from the one to the other. "Some sets +that are--" + +"'Flimsy pretexts!' I caught that much! I only wanted to ask you about +this costume. Is it appropriate, do you think, for the part we were +talking about?" Turning around slowly, with arms half-raised. + +"Charming, my dear; charming!" he answered, enthusiastically. + +"If I only thought that an unbiased criticism!" Her dark lashes +lowered; she looked toward the soldier, half shyly, half mockingly. +"What do you think, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" + +At that moment her girlish grace was irresistible. + + +"I think it is not only appropriate, but"--looking at her and not at +the costume--"beautiful!" + +A gleam like laughter came into her eyes; nor did she shun his +kindling gaze. + +"Thank you!" she said, and courtesied low. + + * * * * * + +That same evening Spedella's fencing rooms were fairly thronged with +devotees of the ancient art of puncturing. The master of the place was +a tall Italian, lank and lean, all bone and muscle, with a Don Quixote +visage, barring a certain villainous expression of the eyes, +irreconcilable with the chivalrous knight-errant of distressed +Dulcineas. But every man with a bad eye is not necessarily a +rascallion, and Spedella, perhaps, was better than he looked. With a +most melancholy glance he was now watching two combatants, novices in +feats of arms. Dejection sat upon his brow; he yawned over a clumsy +_feinte seconde_, when his sinister eyes fell on a figure that had +just entered the hall. Immediately his melancholy vanished, and he +advanced to meet the newcomer with stately cordiality. + +"Well met, Mr. Mauville," he exclaimed, extending a bony hand that had +fingers like the grip of death. "What good fortune brought you here?" + +"An ill wind, Spedella, rather!" + +"It's like a breath of the old days to see you; the old days before +you began your wanderings!" + +"Get the foils, Spedella; I'll have a bout with the master. Gad, +you're as ill-looking as ever! It's some time since I've touched a +foil. I want to test myself. I have a little affair to-morrow. Hark +you, my old brigand; I wish to see if I can kill him!" + +"A lad of spirit!" chuckled the master, a gleam of interest illumining +his cavernous eyes. "Young!--frisky!--an affair of honor to-day is but +nursery sport. Two children with tin swords are more diverting. The +world goes backward! A counter-jumper thinks he can lunge, because he +is spry, that he can touch a button because he sells them. And I am +wasting my genius with ribbon-venders--" + +"I see the wolf growls as much as ever!" said the patroon. "Here's a +quiet corner. Come; tell me what I've forgotten." + +"Good!" returned the other. "You can tell me about your travels as we +fence." + +"Hang my travels!" replied the patroon, as they leisurely engaged. +"They've brought me nothing but regrets." + +"_Feinte flanconnade_--well done!" murmured Spedella. "So it was not +honey you brought home from your rambles? _Feinte seconde_ and +decisive tierce! It's long since I've touched a good blade. These +glove-sellers and perfume-dealers--" + +"You are bitter against trade, my bravo," remarked the land baron. + +"I was spoiling with languor when you came. Not bad, that feint--but +dangerous, because of the possibility of misjudging the attack. Learn +the paroles he affects to-morrow by quick, simple thrusts, and then +you will know what feints to attack him with. Time in octave--you +quitted the blade in a dangerous position. Cluck; cluck, my game cock! +Intemperance has befogged your judgment; high-living has dimmed +your--" + +"You have it!" laughed the land baron. + +The button of his foil touched the old bravo's breast; the steel was +bent like a bow. + +Spedella forgot his English and swore in soft and liquid Italian. "I +looked around to see how those ribbon-venders were getting on," he +said after this euphonious, foreign prelude. "They pay me; I have to +keep an eye on them. All the same," he added, generously, "there isn't +another man in New Orleans could have stopped that stroke--except +myself!" + +"Will I do--for to-morrow?" asked the patroon, moodily. + +The master cocked his head quizzically; his deep-set eyes were soft +and friendly. + +"The devil's with him, if you don't put your spur in him, my bantam!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS + + +The mist was lifting from the earth and nature lay wrapped in the rosy +peace of daybreak as the sun's shafts of gold pierced the foliage, +illumining the historic ground of the Oaks. Like shining lances, they +gleamed from the interstices in the leafy roof to the dew-bejeweled +sward. From this stronghold of glistening arms, however, the +surrounding country stretched tranquil and serene. Upon a neighboring +bank sheep were browsing; in the distance cow-bells tinkled, and the +drowsy cowherds followed the cattle, faithful as the shepherds who +tended their flocks on the Judean hills. + +Beneath the spreading trees were assembled a group of persons +variously disposed. A little dapper man was bending over a case of +instruments, as merry a soul as ever adjusted a ligature or sewed a +wound. Be-ribboned and be-medaled, the Count de Propriac, acting for +the land baron, and Barnes, who had accompanied the soldier, were +consulting over the weapons, a magnificent pair of rapiers with costly +steel guards, set with initials and a coronet. Member of an ancient +society of France which yet sought to perpetuate the memory of the old +judicial combat and the more modern duel, the count was one of those +persons who think they are in honor bound to bear a challenge, without +questioning the cause, or asking the "color of a reason." + +"A superb pair of weapons, count!" observed the doctor, rising. + +"Yes," said the person addressed, holding the blade so that the +sunlight ran along the steel; "the same Jacques Legres and I fought +with!" + +Here the count smiled in a melancholy manner, which left no doubt +regarding the fate of the hapless Jacques. But after a moment he +supplemented this indubitable assurance by adding specifically: + +"The left artery of the left lung!" + +"Bless my soul!" commented the medical man. "But what is this head in +gold beneath the guard?" + +"Saint Michael, the patron saint of duelists!" answered the count. + +"Patron!" exclaimed the doctor. "Well, all I have to say is, it is a +saintless business for Michael." + +The count laughed and turned away with a business-like air. + +"Are you ready, gentlemen?" + +At his words the contestants immediately took their positions. The +land baron, lithe and supple, presented a picture of insolent and +conscious pride, his glance lighted by disdain, but smoldering with +fiercer passions as he examined and tested his blade. + +"Engage!" exclaimed the count. + +With ill-concealed eagerness, Mauville began a vigorous, although +guarded attack, as if asserting his supremacy, and at the same time +testing his man. The buzzing switch of the steel became angrier; the +weapons glinted and gleamed, intertwining silently and separating with +a swish. The patroon's features glowed; his movements became quicker, +and, executing a rapid parry, he lunged with a thrust so stealthy his +blade was beaten down only as it touched the soldier's breast. + +Mauville smiled, but Barnes groaned inwardly, feeling his courage and +confidence fast oozing from him. Neither he nor the other spectators +doubted the result. Strength would count but little against such +agility; the land baron was an incomparable swordsman. + +"Gad!" muttered the count to himself. "It promises to be short and +sweet." + +As if to demonstrate the verity of this assertion, Mauville suddenly +followed his momentary advantage with a dangerous lunge from below. +Involuntarily Barnes looked away, but his wandering attention was +immediately recalled. From the lips of the land baron burst an +exclamation of mingled pain and anger. Saint-Prosper had not only +parried the thrust, but his own blade, by a rapid _riposte_, had +grazed the shoulder of his foe. + +Nor was the manager's surprise greater than that of the count. The +latter, amazed this unusual strategem should have failed when directed +by a wrist as trained and an eye as quick as Mauville's, now +interposed. + +"Enough!" he exclaimed, separating the contestants. "Demme! it was +superb. Honor has been satisfied." + +"It is nothing!" cried the land baron, fiercely. "His blade hardly +touched me." In his exasperation and disappointment over his failure, +Mauville was scarcely conscious of his wound. "I tell you it is +nothing," he repeated. + +"What do you say, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" asked the count. + +"I am satisfied," returned the young man, coldly. + +"But I'm not!" reiterated the patroon, restraining himself with +difficulty. "It was understood we should continue until _both_ were +willing to stop!" + +"No," interrupted the count, suavely; "it was understood you should +continue, if both were willing!" + +"And you're not!" exclaimed the land baron, wheeling on Saint-Prosper. +"Did you leave the army because--" + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen! let us observe the proprieties!" expostulated +the count. "Is it your intention, sir"--to Saint-Prosper--"not to +grant my principal's request?" + +A fierce new anger gleamed from the soldier's eyes, completely +transforming his expression and bearing. His glance quickly swept from +the count to Mauville at the studied insult of the latter's words; on +his cheek burned a dark red spot. + +"Let it go on!" + +The count stepped nimbly from his position between the two men. Again +the swords crossed. The count's glance bent itself more closely on the +figure of the soldier; noting now how superbly poised was his body; +what reserves of strength were suggested by the white, muscular arm! +His wrist moved like a machine, lightly brushing aside the thrusts. +Had it been but accident that Mauville's unlooked-for expedient had +failed? + +"The devil!" thought the count, watching the soldier. "Here is a +fellow who has deceived us all." + +But the land baron's zest only appeared to grow in proportion to the +resistance he encountered; the lust for fighting increased with the +music of the blades. For some moments he feinted and lunged, seeking +an opening, however slight. Again he appeared bent upon forcing a +quick conclusion, for suddenly with a rush he sought to break over +Saint-Prosper's guard, and succeeded in wounding the other slightly in +the forehead. Now sure of his man, Mauville sprang at him savagely. + +But dashing the blood from his eyes with his free hand, and without +giving way, Saint-Prosper met the assault with a wrist of iron, and +the land baron failed to profit by what had seemed a certain +advantage. The wound had the effect of making the soldier more +cautious, and eye, foot and hand were equally true. Mauville was +breathing heavily from his exertions, but the appearance of both men, +the supple movements of the one contrasting with the perfect precision +of the other, would have delighted those members of the count's +society, who regarded these matches as leading to a renaissance of +chivalry. + +In his fury that his chance had slipped away, after wounding, and, as +he supposed, blinding his opponent, Mauville, throwing prudence to the +winds, recklessly attempted to repeat his rash expedient, and this +time the steel of his antagonist gleamed like quicksilver, passing +beneath his arm and inflicting a slight flesh wound. Something +resembling a look of apprehension crossed the land baron's face. "I +have underestimated him!" he thought. "The next stroke will be driven +nearer home." + +He felt no fear, however; only mute, helpless rage. In the soldier's +hand the dainty weapon was a thing of marvelous cunning; his vastly +superior strength made him practically tireless in this play. Not only +tireless; he suddenly accelerated the tempo of the exercise, but +behind this unexpected, even passionate, awakening, the spectators +felt an unvarying accuracy, a steely coldness of purpose. The blades +clicked faster; they met and parted more viciously; the hard light in +Saint-Prosper's eyes grew brighter as he slowly thrust back his +antagonist. + +Mauville became aware his own vigor was slowly failing him; instead of +pressing the other he was now obliged to defend himself. He strove to +throw off the lethargy irresistibly stealing over him; to shake the +leaden movements from his limbs. He vainly endeavored to penetrate the +mist falling before his eyes and to overcome the dizziness that made +his foeman seem like a figure in a dream. Was it through loss of +blood, or weariness, or both?--but he was cognizant his thrusts had +lost force, his plunges vitality, and that even an element of chance +prevailed in his parries. But he uttered no sound. When would that +mist become dark, and the golden day fuse into inky night? + +Before the mist totally eclipsed his sight he determined to make one +more supreme effort, and again sprang forward, but was driven back +with ease. The knowledge that he was continuing a futile struggle +smote him to the soul. Gladly would he have welcomed the fatal thrust, +if first he could have sent his blade through that breast which so far +had been impervious to his efforts. Now the scene went round and +round; the golden day became crimson, scarlet; then gray, leaden, +somber. Incautiously he bent his arm to counter an imaginary lunge, +and his antagonist thrust out his rapier like a thing of life, +transfixing Mauville's sword arm. He stood his ground bravely for a +moment, playing feebly into space, expecting the fatal stroke! When +would it come? Then the slate-colored hues were swallowed in a black +cloud. But while his mind passed into unconsciousness, his breast was +openly presented to his antagonist, and even the count shuddered. + +With his blade at guard, Saint-Prosper remained motionless; the land +baron staggered feebly and then sank softly to the earth. That fatal +look, the expression of a duelist, vanished from the soldier's face, +and, allowing the point of his weapon to drop to the ground, he +surveyed his prostrate antagonist. + +"Done like a gentleman!" cried the count, breathing more freely. "You +had him at your mercy, sir"--to Saint-Prosper--"and spared him." + +A cold glance was the soldier's only response, as without a word he +turned brusquely away. Meanwhile the doctor, hastening to Mauville's +side, opened his shirt. + +"He is badly hurt?" asked Barnes, anxiously, of the surgeon. + +"No; only fainted from loss of blood," replied that gentleman, +cheerfully. "He will be around again in a day or two." + +The count put away his blades as carefully as a mother would deposit +her babe in the cradle. + +"Another page of history, my chicks!" he observed. "Worthy of the song +of Pindar!" + +"Why not Straws or Phazma?" queried the surgeon, looking up from his +task. + +"Would you have the press take up the affair? There are already people +who talk of abolishing dueling. When they do they will abolish +reputation with it. And what's a gentleman got but his honor--demme!" +And the royal emissary carefully brushed a crimson stain from the +bespattered saint. + +By this time the land baron had regained consciousness, and, his +wounds temporarily bandaged, walked, with the assistance of the count, +to his carriage. As they were about to drive away the sound of a +vehicle was heard drawing near, and soon it appeared followed by +another equipage. Both stopped at the confines of the Oaks and the +friends of the thick-set man--Susan's admirer--and the young lad, on +whom she had smiled, alighted. + +"Ha!" exclaimed the doctor, who had accompanied the count and his +companion to the carriage. "Number two!" + +"Yes," laughed the count, as he leaned back against the soft cushions, +"it promises to be a busy day at the Oaks! Really"--as the equipage +rolled on--"New Orleans is fast becoming a civilized center--demme!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A BLOT IN THE 'SCUTCHEON + + +The land baron's injuries did not long keep him indoors, for it was +his pride rather than his body that had received deep and bitter +wounds. He chafed and fumed when he thought how, in all likelihood, +the details of his defeat could not be suppressed in the clubs and +_cafés_. This anticipated publicity he took in ill part, fanning his +mental disorder with brandy, mellow and insidious with age. But +beneath the dregs of indulgence lay an image which preyed upon his +mind more than his defeat beneath the Oaks: a figure, on the crude +stage of a country tavern; in the manor window, with an aureole around +her from the sinking sun; in the grand stand at the races, the gay +dandies singling her out in all that seraglio of beauty. + +"I played him too freely," he groaned to the Count de Propriac, as the +latter sat contemplatively nursing the ivory handle of his cane and +offering the land baron such poor solace as his company afforded. "I +misjudged the attack, besides exposing myself too much. If I could +only meet him again!" + +The visitor reflectively took the handle of the stick from his lips, +thrust out his legs and yawned. The count was sleepy, having drowned +dull care the night before, and had little sympathy with such spirited +talk so early in the day. His lack-luster gaze wandered to the +pictures on the wall, the duel between two court ladies for the +possession of the Duc de Richelieu and an old print of the deadly +public contest of François de Vivonne and Guy de Jarnac and then +strayed languidly to the other paraphernalia of a high-spirited +bachelor's rooms--foils, dueling pistols and masks--trappings that but +served to recall to the land baron his defeat. + +"It would be like running against a stone wall," said the count, +finally; "demme if it wouldn't! He could have killed you!" + +"Why didn't he do it, then?" demanded the land baron, fiercely. + +The count shrugged his shoulders, drank his brandy, and handed the +bottle to his companion, who helped himself, as though not averse to +that sort of medicine for his physical and mental ailments. + +"What's the news?" he asked abruptly, sinking back on his pillow. + +"The levees are flooded." + +"Hanged if I care if it's another deluge!" said Mauville. "I mean news +of the town, not news of the river." + +"There's a new beauty come to town--a brunette; all the bloods are +talking about her. Where did she come from? Who is she? These are +some of the questions asked. But she's a Peri, at any rate! shy, hard +to get acquainted with--at first! An actress--Miss Carew!" + +The glass trembled in the patroon's hand. "Do you know her?" he asked +unsteadily. + +Smiling, the visitor returned the cane to his lips and gazed into +vacancy, as though communing with agreeable thoughts. + +"I have met her," he said finally. "Yes; I may say I have met her. +Ged! Next to a duel with rapiers is one with eyes. They thrust at +you; you parry; they return, and, demme! you're stabbed! But don't ask +me any more--discretion--you understand--between men of the +world--demme!"--and the count relapsed into a vacuous dream. + +"What a precious liar he is!" commented the land baron to himself. But +his mind soon reverted to the duel once more. "If I had only followed +Spedella's advice and studied his favorite parades!" he muttered, +regretfully. + +"It would have been the same," retorted the count, brutally. "When you +lost your temper, you lost your cause. Your work was brilliant; but he +is one of the best swordsmen I ever saw. Who is he, anyway?" + +"All I know is, he served in Algiers," said Mauville, moodily. + +"A demmed adventurer, probably!" exclaimed the other. + +"I'd give a good deal to know his record," remarked the patroon, +contemplatively. "You should be pretty well acquainted with the +personnel of the army?" + +"It includes everybody nowadays," replied the diplomat. "I have a +large acquaintance, but I am not a directory. A person who knows +everybody usually knows nobody--worth knowing! But it seems to me I +did know of a Saint-Prosper at the military college at Saumur; or was +it at the _Ecole d'application d'état-major_? Demmed scapegrace, if I +am not mistaken; sent to Algiers; must be the same. A hell-rake +hole!--full of German and French outcasts! Knaves, adventureres, ready +for plunder and loot!" + +Here the count, after this outburst, closed his eyes and seemed almost +on the point of dropping off, but suddenly straightened himself. + +"Let's get the cards, or the dice, Mauville," he said, "or I'll fall +into a doze. Such a demmed sleepy climate!" + +Soon the count was shuffling and the land baron and he were playing +bezique, but in spite of the latter's drowsiness, he won steadily from +his inattentive companion, and, although the noble visitor had some +difficulty in keeping his eyes open, what there was of his glance was +vigilantly concentrated on his little pile of the coin of the realm. +His watchfulness did not relax nor his success desert him, until +Mauville finally threw down the cards in disgust, weary alike of such +poor luck and the half-nodding automaton confronting him; whereupon +the count thrust every piece of gold carefully away in his pocket, +absently reached for his hat, drawled a perfunctory farewell and +departed in a brown study. + +The count's company, of which he had enjoyed a good deal during the +past forty-eight hours, did not improve Mauville's temper, and he bore +his own reflections so grudgingly that inaction became intolerable. +Besides, certain words of his caller concerning Saint-Prosper had +stimulated his curiosity, and, in casting about for a way to confirm +his suspicions, he had suddenly determined in what wise to proceed. +Accordingly, the next day he left his rooms, his first visit being to +a spacious, substantial residence of stone and lime, with green +veranda palings and windows that opened as doors, with a profusion of +gauzy curtains hanging behind them. This house, the present home of +the Marquis de Ligne, stood in the French quarter, contrasting +architecturally with the newer brick buildings erected for the +American population. The land baron was ushered into a large reception +room, sending his card to the marquis by the neat-appearing colored +maid who answered the door. + +If surroundings indicate the man, the apartments in which the visitor +stood spoke eloquently of the marquis' taste. Eschewing the stiff, +affected classicalism of the Empire style, the furniture was the best +work of André Boule and Riesener; tables, with fine marquetry of the +last century, made of tulip wood and mahogany; mirrors from +Tourlaville; couches with tapestry woven in fanciful designs after +Fragonard, in the looms of Beauvais--couches that were made for +conversation, not repose; cabinets exemplifying agreeable disposition +of lines and masses in the inlaid adornment, containing tiny drawers +that fitted with old-time exactness, and, without jamming, opened and +shut at the touch. The marquis' character was stamped by these +details; it was old, not new France, to which he belonged. + +Soon the marquis' servant, a stolid, sober man, of virtuous +deportment, came down stairs to inform the land baron his master had +suffered a relapse and was unable to see any one. + +"Last night his temperature was very high," said the valet. "My master +is very ill; more so than I have known him to be in twenty years." + +"You have served the marquis so long?" said the visitor, pausing as he +was leaving the room. "Do you remember the Saint-Prosper family?" + +"Well, Monsieur. General Saint-Prosper and my master were distant +kinsmen and had adjoining lands." + +"Surely the marquis did not pass his time in the country?" observed +Mauville. + +"He preferred it to Paris--when my lady was there!" added François, +softly. + +In spite of his ill-humor, the shadow of a smile gleamed in the land +baron's gaze, and, encouraged by that questioning look, the man +continued: "The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were always +together. My lady had her own friends." + +"So I've heard," commented the listener. + +François' discreet eyes were downcast. Why did the visitor wish to +learn about the Saint-Prosper family? Why, instead of going, did he +linger and eye the man half-dubiously? François had sold so many of +his master's secrets he scented his opportunities with a sixth sense. + +"The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were warm friends?" asked the +land baron at length. + +"Yes, Monsieur; the death of the latter was a severe shock to the +Marquis de Ligne, but, _mon Dieu_!"--lifting his eyes--"it was as well +he did not live to witness the disgrace of his son." + +"His son's disgrace," repeated the land baron, eagerly. "Oh, you mean +running in debt--gaming--some such fashionable virtue?" + +"If betraying his country is a fashionable virtue," replied the valet. +"He is a traitor." + +Incredulity overspread the land baron's features; then, coincident +with the assertion, came remembrance of his conversation with the +marquis. + +"He certainly called him that," ruminated the visitor. Not only the +words, but the expression of the old nobleman's face recurred to him. +What did it mean unless it confirmed the deliberate charge of the +valet? The land baron forgot his disappointment over his inability to +see the marquis, and began to look with more favor on the man. + +"He surrendered a French stronghold," continued the servant, +softly. "Not through fear; oh, no; but for ambition, power, under +Abd-el-Kader, the Moorish leader." + +"How do you know this?" said the patroon, sharply. + +"My master has the report of the military board of inquiry," replied +the man, steadily. + +"Why has the matter attracted no public attention, if a board of +inquiry was appointed?" + +"The board was a secret one, and the report was suppressed. Few have +seen it, except the late King of France and my master." + +"And yourself, François?" said the patroon, his manner changing. + +"Oh, Monsieur!" Deprecatorily. + +"Since it has been inspected by such good company, I confess curiosity +to look at it myself. But your master is ill; I can not speak with +him; perhaps you--" + +"I, Monsieur!" Indignantly. + +"For five hundred francs, François?" + +Like oil upon the troubled waters, this assurance wrought a swift +change in the valet's manner. + +"To oblige Monsieur!" he answered, softly, but his eyes gleamed like a +lynx's. His stateliness was a sham; his perfidy and hypocrisy +surprised even the land baron. + +"You have no compunctions about selling a reputation, François?" + +"Reputation is that!" said the man, contemptuously snapping his +fingers, emboldened by his compact with the caller. "Francs and sous +are everything." + +"Lord, how servants imbibe the ideas of their betters!" quoth the +patroon, as he left the house and strode down the graveled walk, +decapitating the begonias with his cane. + +Furtively the valet watched his departing figure. "Why does he want +it?" he thought. + +Then he shrugged his shoulders. "What do I care!" + +"François!" piped a shrill and querulous treble from above, dispelling +the servant's conjectures. + +"Coming, my lord!" And the valet slowly mounted the broad stairway +amid a fusillade of epithets from the sick chamber. An hour before the +marquis had ordered him out of his sight as vehemently as now he +summoned him, all of which François endured with infinite patience and +becoming humility. + +Passing into the Rue Royale, the favorite promenade of the +Creole-French, the land baron went on through various thoroughfares +with French-English nomenclature into St. Charles Street, reaching his +apartments, which adjoined a well-known club. He was glad to stretch +himself once more on his couch, feeling fatigued from his efforts, and +having rather overtaxed his strength. + +But if his body was now inert, his mind was active. His thoughts +dwelt upon the soldier's reticence, his disinclination to make +acquaintances, and the coldness with which he had received his, +Mauville's, advances in the Shadengo Valley. Why, asked Mauville, +lying there and putting the pieces of the tale together, did not +Saint-Prosper remain with his new-found friends, the enemies of his +country? Because, came the answer, Abd-el-Kader, the patriot of +Algerian independence, had been captured and the subjection of the +country had followed. Since Algeria had become a French colony, +where could Saint-Prosper have found a safer asylum than in +America? Where more secure from "that chosen curse" for the man who +owes his weal to his country's woe? + +In his impatience to possess the promised proof, the day passed all +too slowly. He even hoped the count would call, although that worthy +brought with him all the "flattering devils, sweet poison and deadly +sins" of inebriation. But the count, like a poor friend, was absent +when wanted, and it was a distinct relief to the land baron when +François appeared at his apartments in the evening with a buff-colored +envelope, which he handed to him. + +"The suppressed report?" asked the latter, weighing it in his hand. + +"No, Monsieur; I could not find that. My master must have destroyed +it." + +The land baron made a gesture of disappointment and irritation. + +"But this," François hastened to add, "is a letter from the Duc +d'Aumale, governor of Algeria, to the Marquis de Ligne, describing the +affair. Monsieur will find it equally as satisfactory, I am sure." + +"How did you get it?" said the patroon, thoughtfully. + +"My master left the keys on the dresser." + +"And if he misses this letter--" + +"Oh, Monsieur, I grieve my master is so ill he could not miss anything +but his ailments! Those he would willingly dispense with. My poor +master!" + +"There! Take your long, hypocritical face out of my sight!" said +Mauville, curtly, at the same time handing him the promised reward, +which François calmly accepted. A moment later, however, he drew +himself up. + +"Monsieur has not paid for the right to libel my character," he said. + +"Your character!" + +"My character, Monsieur!" the valet replied firmly, and bowed in the +stateliest fashion of the old school as he backed out of the room with +grand obsequiousness. Deliberately, heavily and solidly, resounded the +echoing footsteps of François upon the stairway, like the going of +some substantial personage of unimpeachable rectitude. + +As the front door closed sharply the land baron threw the envelope on +the table and quietly surveyed it, the remnants of his pride rising in +revolt. + +"Have I then sunk so low as to read private communications or pry into +family secrets? Is it a family secret, though? Should it not become +common property? Why have they protected him? Did the marquis wish to +spare the son of an old friend? Besides"--his glance again seeking the +envelope--"it is my privilege to learn whether I have fought with a +gentleman or a renegade." But even as he meditated, he felt the +sophistry of this last argument, while through his brain ran the +undercurrent: "He has wooed her--won her, perhaps!" Passion, rather +than injured hauteur, stirred him. At the same time a great +indignation filled his breast; how Saint-Prosper had tricked her and +turned her from himself! + +And moving from the mantel upon which he was leaning, Mauville strode +to the table and untied the envelope. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A CYNICAL BARD + + +A dusty window looking out upon a dusty thoroughfare; a dusty room, +lighted by the dusty window, and revealing a dusty chair, a dusty +carpet and--probably--a dusty bed! Over the foot and the head of the +bed the lodger's wardrobe lay carelessly thrown. He had but to reach +up, and lo! his shirt was at hand; to reach down, and there were +collar and necktie! Presto, he was dressed, without getting out of +bed, running no risk from cold floors for cold feet, lurking tacks or +stray needles and pins! On every side appeared evidence of confusion, +or a bachelor's idea of order. + +Fastened to the head-board of the bed was a box, wherein were stored +various and divers articles and things. With as little inconvenience +as might be imagined the lodger could plunge his hand into his +cupboard and pull out a pipe, a box of matches, a bottle of ink, a +bottle of something else, paper and pins, and, last but not least, his +beloved tin whistle of three holes, variously dignified a _fretiau_, a +_frestele_, or a _galoubet_, upon which he played ravishing tunes. + +Oh, a wonderful box was Straws' little bedstead cupboard! As Phazma +said of it, it contained everything it should not, and nothing it +should contain. But that was why it was a poet's box. If it had held a +Harpagon's Interest Computer, instead of a well-thumbed Virgil, or +Oldcodger's Commercial Statistics for 184--, instead of an antique, +leather-covered Montaigne, Straws would have had no use for the +cupboard. It was at once his library--a scanty one, for the poet held +tenaciously to but a few books--his sideboard, his _secrétaire_, his +music cabinet--giving lodgment in this last capacity to a single work, +"The Complete and Classical Preceptor for Galoubet, Containing Tunes, +Polkas and Military Pieces." + +Suspended from the ceiling hung a wooden cage, confining a mocking +bird that had become acclimated to the death-dealing atmosphere of +tobacco smoke, alcoholic fumes and poetry. All these the songster had +endured and survived, nay, thriven upon, lifting up its voice in happy +cadence and blithely hopping about its prison, the door of which +Straws sometimes opened, permitting the feathered captive the dubious +freedom of the room. Pasted on the foot-board of the bed was an old +engraving of a wandering musician mountebank, playing a galoubet as an +accompaniment to a dancing dog and a cock on stilts, a never-wearying +picture for Straws, with his migratory, vagabond proclivities. + +A bracket on the wall looked as though it might have been intended for +a piece of statuary, or a bit of porcelain or china decoration, but +had really been set there for his ink-pot, when he was mindful to work +in bed, although how the Muse could be induced to set foot in that old +nookery of a room could only be explained through the whims and +crotchets of that odd young person's character. + +Yet come she would and did, although she got dust on her flowing +skirts when she swept across the threshold; dust on her snow-white +gown--if the writers are to be believed in regard to its hue!--when +she sat down in the only chair, and dust in her eyes when she flirted +her fan. Fortunate was it for Straws that the Muse is a wayward, +freakish gipsy; a straggler in attics; a vagrant of the streets; +fortunately for him she is not at all the fine lady she has been +depicted! Doubtless she has her own reasons for her vagaries; perhaps +because it is so easy to soar from the hovel to fairy-land, but to +soar from a palace--that is obviously impossible; it is a height in +itself! So this itinerant maiden ever yawns amid scenes of splendor, +and, from time immemorial, has sighed for lofts, garrets, and such +humble places as Straws' earthly abode. + +At the present time, however, Straws was alone. This eccentric but +lovely young lady had not deigned to visit him that day. Once, indeed, +she had just looked in, but whisked back again into the hall, slamming +the door after her, and the pen, momentarily grasped, had fallen from +Straws' hand. Instead of reaching for the ink-bottle he reached in the +cupboard for the other bottle. Again she came near entering through +the window--having many unconventional ways of coming into a +room!--but after looking in for a moment, changed her mind after her +fashion and floated away into thin space like the giddy, volatile +mistress that she was. After that she appeared no more--probably +making a friendly call on some one else!--and Straws resigned himself +to her heartless perfidy, having become accustomed to her frivolous, +fantastic moods. + +Indeed, what else could he have done; what can any man do when his +lady-love deserts him, save to make the best of it? But he found his +consolation in a pipe; not a pipe of tobacco, nor yet a pipe of old +madeira, which, figuratively, most disappointed lovers seek; but a +pipe of melody, a pipe of flowing tunes and stirring marches; a pipe +of three holes, vulgarly termed by those who know not its high classic +origin from the Grecian reeds and its relation to the Pandian pipes, a +tin whistle! Thus was Straws classic in his taste, affecting the +instrument wherein Acis sighed his soul and breath away for fair +Galatea! + +It had been a lazy, purposeless day. He had awakened at noon; had +coffee and rolls in bed; had dressed, got up, looked out, lain down +again, read, and vainly essayed original composition. Now, lying on +his back, with the Complete and Classic Preceptor before him, he +soothed himself with such music "as washes the every-day dust from the +soul." For a pipe of three holes, his instrument had a remarkable +compass; melody followed melody--"The Harp that Once through Tara's +Hall," "She is Far from the Land," "In Death I shall Calm Recline," +and other popular pieces. When Straws missed a note he went back to +find it; when he erred in a phrase, he patiently repeated it. The +cadence in the last mournful selection, "Bid her not shed a tear of +sorrow," was, on his first attempt, fraught with exceeding discord, +and he was preparing once more to assault the citadel of grief, +entrenched with bristling high notes, when an abrupt knocking at the +door, followed by the appearance of a face marred by wrath and adorned +with an enormous pair of whiskers, interrupted his attack. + +"Sair," said this person, excitedly, with no more than his head in the +room, like a Punch and Judy figure peering from behind a curtain, "you +are ze one gran' nuisance! Eet is zat--what you call eet?--whistle! I +am crazee--crazee!" + +"Yes; you look it!" replied Straws, sympathetically. "Perhaps, if you +had a keep--" + +"I am not crazee!" vociferated the man. + +"No? Perhaps I could tell better, if I could see more of you. Judging +from the sample, I confess to curiosity for a full-length view. If you +will step in--" + +"I will not step in! I will step out! I will leave zis house! I will +leave--forever!" + +And the head vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, to be followed +by hasty footsteps down the stairway. + +"Now I can understand why Orpheus was torn to pieces," ruminated +Straws, mournfully surveying the offending pipe. "He played on the +lyre! Return to thy cupboard, O reed divine!"--putting the whistle back +in the box--"a vile world, as Falstaff says! Heigho!"--yawning--"life +is an empty void--which reminds me I have a most poetic appetite. What +shall I do"--and Straws sat up relinquishing his lounging attitude--"go +out, or have pot-luck in the room? Tortier's bouillabaisse would about +tickle the jaded palate. A most poetic dish, that bouillabaisse! +Containing all the fish that swim in the sea and all the herbs that grow +on the land! Thus speaks gluttony! Get thee behind me, odoriferous +temptation of garlic! succulent combination of broth and stew!" + +So saying, Straws sprang from his bed, lighted a charcoal fire in his +tiny grate; rummaged a bureau drawer and drew forth an end of bacon, a +potato or two, a few apples, an onion and the minor part of a loaf of +bread, all of which, except the bread, he sliced and thrust +indiscriminately into the frying-pan and placed over the blue flame. +Next from behind the mirror he produced a diminutive coffee pot into +which he measured, with extreme care, just so much of the ground +berry, being rather over-nice about his demitasse. Having progressed +thus far in his preparation for pot, or frying-pan luck--and indeed it +seemed a matter of luck, or good fortune, how that mixture would turn +out--he rapped on the floor with the heel of his boot, like the prince +in the fairy tale, summoning his attendant good genii, and in a few +moments a light tapping on the door announced the coming of a +servitor. + +Not a mighty wraith nor spook of Arabian fancy, but a very small girl, +or child, with very black hair, very white skin and very dark, +beautiful eyes. A daughter of mixed ancestry, yet with her dainty +hands and little feet, she seemed descended from sprites or sylphs. + +"Monsieur called," she said in her pretty dialect. + +"Yes, my dear. Go to Monsieur Tortier's, Celestina, and tell him to +give you a bottle of the kind Monsieur Straws always takes." + +"At once, Monsieur," she answered, very gravely, very seriously. And +Celestina vanished like a butterfly that flutters quickly away. + +"Now this won't be bad after all," thought Straws, sniffing at the +frying-pan which had begun to sputter bravely over the coals, while +the coffee pot gave forth a fragrant steam. "A good bottle of wine +will transform a snack into a collation; turn pot-luck into a feast!" + +As thus he meditated the first of night's outriders, its fast-coming +shadows, stole through the window; following these swift van-couriers, +night's chariot came galloping across the heavens; in the sky several +little clouds melted like Cleopatra's pearls. Musing before his fire +the poet sat, not dreaming thoughts no mortal ever dreamed before, but +turning the bacon and apples and stirring in a few herbs, for no +other particular reason than that he had them and thought he might as +well use them. + +"Celestina is taking longer than usual," he mused. "Perhaps, though, +Monsieur Tortier intends to surprise me with an unusually fine bottle. +Yes; that is undoubtedly the reason for the delay. He is hunting about +in the cellar for something a little out of the ordinary. But here is +Celestina now!" as the child reappeared, with footsteps so noiseless +the poet saw before he heard her. "Where is the bottle, my little +Ariel? It must be an extra fine vintage. Bless old Tortier's noble +heart!" + +"There isn't any bottle," said the child. "Monsieur said that your +account--" + +"The miserable old hunks! His heart's no bigger than a pin-head!" + +"Please, I'm so sorry!" spoke up Celestina, a suspicious moisture in +her eyes. + +"I know it, my dear," returned Straws. "Your heart is as big as his +whole body. One of your tears is more precious than his most priceless +nectar." + +"I beg-ged him--that's why I--I stayed so--long!" half-sobbed +Celestina. + +"There! there!" said Straws, wiping her eyes. "Of course it's very +tragic, but there's no use crying over spilled milk. Dear me, dear me; +what can we do? It's terrible, but you know the proverb: 'Every cloud +has a silver lining.' Perhaps this one has. I wish it had; or a golden +one! Think of a cloud of gold, Celestina! Wouldn't we be rich? What +would you do with it?" + +"I'd go to--Monsieur Tortier's and--and get the bottle," said the +child in an agony of distress. + +He lifted her on his knee, soothed her and held her in his arms, +stroking her dark hair. + +"I believe you would," he said. "And now, as we haven't got the golden +cloud, let us see how we can get on without it. How shall we conquer +that ogre, Monsieur Tortier? What would you suggest, Celestina?" + +The child looked into the fire, with eyes wide-open. + +"Come, be a good fairy now," urged Straws, "and tell me." + +"Why don't you write him a poem?" said Celestina, turning her eyes, +bright with excitement, upon him. + +"A poem! Non--by Jove, you're right! An inspiration, my dear! People +like to be thought what they are not. They want to be praised for +virtues foreign to themselves. The ass wants to masquerade as the +lion. 'Tis the law of nature. Now Monsieur Tortier is a Jew; a scrimp; +a usurer! Very well, we will celebrate the virtues he hath not in +verse and publish the stanza in the Straws' column. After all, we are +only following the example of the historians, and they're an eminently +respectable lot of people. Celestina! You watch the coffee pot, and +I'll grind out the panegyric!" + +The child knelt before the fire, but her glance strayed from the +steaming spout to the poet's face, as he sat on the edge of his bed +and rapidly scribbled. By the time the bacon was fairly done and the +other condiments in the frying-pan had turned to a dark hue, the +production was finished and triumphantly waved in mid air by the now +hopeful Straws. + +"I'll just read you a part of it, my dear!" he said. "It's not half +bad. But perhaps it would--bore you?" With exaggerated modesty. + +"Oh, I just love your poetry!" cried the girl, enthusiastically. + +"If everybody were only like you now! Isn't it too bad you've got to +grow up and grow wiser? But here's the refrain. There are six stanzas, +but I won't trouble you with all of them, my dear. One mustn't drive a +willing horse, or a willing auditor." + +And in a voice he endeavored to render melodious, with her rapt glance +fixed upon him, Straws read: + + "Sing, my Muse, the lay of the prodigal host! + Who enters here leaveth behind not hope. + Course follows course; entrée, relevé, ragoût, + Ambrosial sauces, pungent, after luscious soup. + The landlord spurs his guests to fresh attack, + With fricassee, réchauffé and omelets; + A toothsome feast that Apicius would fain have served, + While wine, divine, new zeal in all begets. + Who is this host, my Muse, pray say? + Who but that prodigal, Tortier! + +"There, my dear," concluded Straws, "those feet are pretty wobbly to +walk, but flattery moves on lame legs faster than truth will travel +on two good ones. Besides, I haven't time to polish them properly, or +the mess in the frying-pan will spoil. Better spoil the poem than the +contents of the flesh pots! Now if--dear me, Celestina, if you haven't +let the coffee pot boil over!" + +"Oh, Monsieur," cried the child, almost weeping again. "I forgot to +watch it! I just couldn't while you were writing poetry." + +"The excuse more than condones the offense," continued the other. "But +as I was about to say, you take this poem to Monsieur Tortier, make +your prettiest bow and courtesy--let me see you make a courtesy." + +The girl bowed as dainty as a little duchess. + +"That should melt a heart of stone in itself," commented Straws. "But +Tortier's is flint! After that charming bow, you will give him my +compliments; Mr. Straws' compliments, remember; and, would he be kind +enough just to glance over this poem which Mr. Straws, with much +mental effort, has prepared, and which, if it be acceptable to +Monsieur Tortier, will appear in Mr. Straws' famous and much-talked-of +column in the paper?" + +"Oh, Monsieur, I can't remember all that!" said the girl. + +"Do it your own way then. Besides, it will be better than mine." + +With the poem hugged to her breast, the child fairly flew out of the +room, leaving Straws a prey to conflicting emotions. He experienced +in those moments of suspense all the doubts and fears of the nestling +bard or the tadpole litterateur, awaiting the pleasure and sentence of +the august editor or the puissant publisher. Tortier had been suddenly +exalted to the judge's lofty pedestal. Would he forthwith be an +imperial autocrat; turn tyrant or Thersites; or become critic, one of +"those graminivorous animals which gain subsistence by gorging upon +buds and leaves of the young shrubs of the forest, robbing them of +their verdure and retarding their progress to maturity"? + +Straws' anxiety was trouble's labor lost. Celestina appeared, the glad +messenger of success, and now, as she came dancing into the room, bore +in her arms the fruits of victory which she laid before the poet with +sparkling eyes and laughing lips. + +"So the poem was accepted?" murmured Straws. "Discerning Tortier! +Excellent dilettante! Let him henceforth be known as a man of taste!" +Here the poet critically examined the bottle. "Nothing vapid, thin or +characterless there!" he added, holding it before the blaze in the +grate. "Positively I'll dedicate my forthcoming book to him. 'To that +worshipful master and patron, the tasteful Tortier!' What did he say, +Celestina, when you tendered him the poem?" + +"At first he frowned and then he looked thoughtful. And then he gave +me some orange syrup. And then--O, I don't want to say!" A look of +unutterable concern displacing the happiness on her features. + +"Say on, my dear!" cried Straws. + +"He--he said he--he didn't think much of it as--O, I can't tell you; I +can't! I can't!" + +"Celestina," said the poet sternly, "tell me at once. I command you." + +"He said he didn't think much of it as poetry, but that people would +read it and come to his _café_ and--O dear, O dear!" + +"Beast! Brute! Parvenu! But there, don't cry, my dear. We have much to +be thankful for--we have the bottle." + +"Oh, yes," she said with conviction, and brightening a bit. "We have +the bottle." And as she spoke, "pop" it went, and Celestina laughed. +"May I set your table?" she asked. + +"After your inestimable service to me, my dear, I find it impossible +to refuse," he replied gravely. + +"How good you are!" she remarked, placing a rather soiled cloth, which +she found somewhere, over a battered trunk. + +"I try not to be, but I can't help it!" answered the poet modestly. + +"No; that's it; you can't help it!" she returned, moving lightly +around the room, emptying the contents of the frying-pan--now an +aromatic jumble--on to a cracked blue platter, and setting knife and +fork, and a plate, also blue, before him! "And may I wait on you, +too?" + +"Well, as a special favor--" He paused, appearing to ponder deeply and +darkly. + +Her eyes were bent upon his face with mute appeal, her suspense so +great she stood stock-still in the middle of the floor, frying-pan in +hand. + +"Yes; you may wait on me," he said finally, after perplexed and +weighty rumination. + +At that her little feet fairly twinkled, but her hand was ever so +careful as she took the coffee pot from the fire and put it near the +blue plate. A glass--how well she knew where everything was!--she +found in some mysterious corner and, sitting down on the floor, +cross-legged like a little Turk, a mere mite almost lost in the +semi-obscurity of the room, she polished it assiduously upon the +corner of the table cloth until it shone free from specks of dust; all +the time humming very lightly like a bird, or a housewife whose heart +is in her work. A strange song, a curious bit of melody that seemed to +spring from some dark past and to presage a future, equally sunless. + +"Your supper is ready, Monsieur," she said, rising. + +"And I am ready for it. Why, how nicely the table looks! Really, when +we both grow up, I think we should take a silver ship and sail to some +silver shore and live together there forever and evermore. How would +you like it?" + +Celestina's lips were mute, but her eyes were full of rapturous +response, and then became suddenly shy, as though afraid of their own +happiness. + +"May I pour your wine?" she asked, with downcast lashes. + +"Can you manage it and not spill a drop? Remember Cratinus wept and +died of grief seeing his wine--no doubt, this same vintage--spilt!" + +But Straws was not called upon to emulate this classic example. The +feat of filling his glass was deftly accomplished, and a moment later +the poet raised it with, "'Drink to me only with thine eyes!'" An +appropriate sentiment for Celestina who had nothing else to drink to +him with. "Won't you have some of this--what shall I call it?--hash, +stew or ration?" + +"Oh, I've had my supper," she answered. + +"How fortunate for you, my dear! It isn't exactly a company bill of +fare! But everything is what I call snug and cozy. Here we are high up +in the world--right under the roof--all by ourselves, with nobody to +disturb us--" + +A heavy footfall without; rap, rap, rap, on the door; no timid, +faltering knock, but a firm application of somebody's knuckles! + +"It's that Jack-in-the-box Frenchman," muttered the writer. "Go to the +devil!" he called out. + +The door opened. + +"You have an original way of receiving visitors!" drawled a languid +voice, and the glance of the surprised poet fell upon Edward Mauville. +"Really, I don't know whether to come in or not," continued the latter +at the threshold. + +"I beg your pardon," murmured Straws. "I thought it was a--" + +"Creditor?" suggested Mauville, with an amused smile. "I know the +class. Don't apologize! I am intruding. Quite a family party!" he went +on, his gaze resting upon Celestina and the interrupted repast. + +With his elegant attire, satin waistcoat and fine ruffles, he seemed +out of place in the attic nook of the Muse; a lordling who had +wandered by mistake into the wrong room. But he bore himself with the +easy assurance of a man who could adapt himself to any surroundings; +even to Calliope's shabby boudoir! + +"My dear," remarked the disconcerted bard, "get a chair for Mr. +Mauville. Or--I beg your pardon--would you mind sitting on the bed? +Won't you have some wine? Celestina, bring another glass." + +But the girl only stood and stared at the dark, courtly being who thus +unexpectedly had burst in upon them. + +"There isn't any more," she finally managed to say. "You've got the +only glass there is, please!" + +"Dear me; dear me!" exclaimed Straws. "How glasses do get broken! I +have so few occasions to use them, too, for I don't very often have +visitors." + +"You are surprised to see me?" continued Mauville, pleasantly, seating +himself on the edge of the bed. "Go on with your supper. You don't +mind my smoking while you eat?" + +[Illustration] + +"No; the odor of onions is a little strong, isn't it?" laughed the +other. "Rather strange, by the by, some of nature's best restoratives +should be rank and noisome, while her poisons, like the Upas tree, are +often sweet-smelling and agreeable?" + +"Yes," commented the land baron; "we make the worst faces over the +medicines that do us the most good." + +"I presume," said Straws, delighted at the prospect of an argument, +and forgetting his curiosity over the other's visit in this brief +interchange of words, "nature but calls our attention to the fact that +we may know our truest friends are not those with the sweetest +manners." + +"Heaven forbid!" remarked Mauville. "But how are you getting on with +your column? A surfeit of news and gossip, I presume? What a busy +fellow you are, to be sure! Nothing escapes through your seine. Big +fish or little fish, it is all one. You dress them up with alluring +sauce." + +The bard shook his head. + +"The net has been coming in dry," he said gloomily. "But that's the +way with the fish. Sometimes you catch a good haul, and then they all +disappear. It's been bad luck lately." + +"Perhaps I can make a cast for you," cried the patroon eagerly. + +"And bring up what?" asked the hack. + +"Something everybody will read; that will set the gossips talking." + +"A woman's reputation?" + +"No; a man's." + +"That is to be regretted," said Straws. "If, now, it were only a +woman's--.However, it's the next best thing to start the town +a-gossiping. I am much obliged to you for taking the trouble of +calling. All those stairs to climb, too!" + +"I was sure you would be glad to hear of it," remarked the patroon, +slowly, studying with his bright, insolent glance, the pale, +intellectual face of the scribbler. + +"Yes; there's only one thing stands in the way." + +"And that?" + +"I never publish anything I don't believe. Don't misunderstand me, +please." Pouring out a glass of wine. "Unfortunately I am so +incredulous! Isn't it a pity? I am such a carping cynic; a regular +skeptic that follows the old adage, 'Believe that story false that +ought not to be true.' It's such a detriment to my work, too! A pretty +scandal at the top of my column would make me famous, while a +sprinkling of libels and lampoons would enable me to move down a story +or two. But, after all, I'd feel lost in the luxury of a first floor +front chamber. So, you see, nature adjusts herself to our needs." + +"Makes the shell to fit the snail, as it were," commented the land +baron, patronizingly, gazing around the little cupboard of a room. "At +any rate," he added, in an effort to hide his dissatisfaction, "it's a +pleasure to become better acquainted with such a--what shall I +say?--whimsical fellow as yourself?" + +"That's it," returned the bard. "Whimsical!" + +"I dare say you have had many a chance to turn an honest penny or two, +if you had not been so skeptical, as you call it?" remarked the +patroon, significantly. "People, I presume, have even offered to pay +you for publishing the compliments of the season about their +neighbors?" + +"Well," answered the scribbler, laughing, "I may have Midas' longing +for gold, but I also have his ears. And the ears predominate. I am +such an ass I have even returned a fair petitioner's perfumed note! +Such a dainty little hand! How good the paper smelt! How devilish it +read! The world's idea about the devil always smelling of sulphur and +brimstone is a slander on that much abused person. I can positively +affirm that he smells of musk, attar, myrrh; as though he had lain +somewhere with a lady's sachet or scent-bag." + +"Really you should revise Milton," murmured the land baron, +carelessly, his interest quite gone. "But I must be moving on." And he +arose. "Good evening." + +"Good night!" said Straws, going to the door after his departing +guest. "Can you see your way down? Look out for the turn! And don't +depend too much on the bannisters--they're rather shaky. Well, he's +gone!" Returning once more to the room. "We're coming up in the world, +my dear, when such fashionable callers visit us! What do you think of +him?" + +"He is very--handsome!" replied the child. + +"Oh, the vanity of the sex! Is he--is he handsomer than I?" + +"Are you--handsome?" she asked. + +"Eh? Don't you think so?" + +"No-o," she cried, in a passion of distressed truthfulness. + +"Thank you, my dear! What a flattering creature you'll become, if you +keep on as you've begun! How you'll wheedle the men, to be sure!" + +"But mustn't I say what I think?" + +"Always! I'm a bad adviser! Think of bringing up a young person, +especially a girl, to speak the truth! What a time she'll have!" + +"But I couldn't do anything else!" she continued, with absorbing and +painful anxiety. + +"Don't, then! I'm instructing you to your destruction, but--don't! I'm +a philosopher in the School for Making Simpletons. What will you do +when you go out into the broad world with truth for your banner and +your heart on your sleeve?" + +"How could I have my heart on my sleeve?" asked Celestina. + +"Because you couldn't help it!" + +"Really and truly on my sleeve?" + +"Really and truly!" he affirmed, gravely. + +"How funny!" answered the girl. + +"No; tragic! But what shall we do now, Celestina?" + +"Wash the dishes," said the child, practically. + +"But, my dear, we won't need them until to-morrow," expostulated the +poet. "Precipitancy is a bad fault. Now, if you had proposed a little +music, or a fairy tale--" + +"Oh, I could wash them while you played, or told me a story," +suggested the child, eagerly. + +"That isn't such a bad idea," commented Straws, reflectively. + +"Then you will let me?" she asked. + +"Go ahead!" said the bard, and he reached for the whistle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE + + +The city, bustling and animated by day, like an energetic housewife, +was at night a gay demoiselle, awakening to new life and excitement. +The clerk betook himself to his bowling or billiards and the mechanic +to the circus, while beauty and fashion repaired to the concert room +or to the Opéra Français, to listen to Halévy or Donizetti. Restless +Americans or Irishmen rubbed elbows with the hurrying Frenchman or +Spaniard, and the dignified creole gentleman of leisure alone was +wrapped in a plenitude of dignity, computing probably the interest he +drew on money loaned these assiduous foreigners. + +Soldiers who had been granted leave of absence or had slipped the +guard at the camp on Andrew Jackson's battle-ground swaggered through +the streets. The change from a diet of pork and beans and army hard +tack was so marked that Uncle Sam's young men threw restraint to the +winds, took the mask balls by storm and gallantly assailed and made +willing prisoners of the fair sex. Eager to exchange their irksome +life in camp for the active campaign in Mexico, it was small wonder +they relieved their impatience by many a valiant dash into the +hospitable town. + +Carriages drove by with a rumble and a clatter, revealing a fleeting +glimpse of some beauty with full, dark eye. Venders of flowers +importuned the passers-by, doing a brisk business; the oyster and +coffee stands reminded the spectator of a thoroughfare in London on a +Saturday night, with the people congregating about the street stalls; +but the brilliantly illumined places of amusement, with their careless +patrons plainly apparent to all from without, resembled rather a +boulevard scene in the metropolis of France. "Probably," says a +skeptical chronicler, "here and there are quiet drawing-rooms, and +tranquil firesides, where domestic love is a chaste, presiding +goddess." But the writer merely presumes such might have been the +case, and it is evident from his manner of expression, he offers the +suggestion, or afterthought, charitably, with some doubts in his mind. +Certainly he never personally encountered the chaste goddess of the +hearth, or he would have qualified his words and made his statement +more positive. + +From the life of the streets, the land baron turned into a well-lighted +entrance, passing into a large, luxuriously furnished saloon, at one +end of which stood a table somewhat resembling a roulette board. +Seated on one side was the phlegmatic cashier, and, opposite him, the +dealer, equally impassive. Unlike faro--the popular New Orleans +game--no deal box was needed, the dealer holding the cards in his +hand, while a cavity in the center of the table contained a basket, +where the cards, once used, were thrown. A large chandelier cast a +brilliant light upon the scene. + +"_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_," drawled the monotonous voice of the +dealer, and expectation was keenly written on the faces of the double +circle of players--variously disclosed, but, nevertheless, apparent in +all; a transformation of the natural expression of the features; an +obvious nervousness of manner, or where the countenance was impassive, +controlled by a strong will, a peculiar glitter of the eyes, +betokening the most insatiable species of the gambler. As the dealer +began to shuffle together six packs of cards and place them in a row +on the table, he called out: + +"Nothing more goes, gentlemen!" + +The rapidity with which the cashier counted the winnings at a distance +and shoved them here and there with the long rake was amazing and +bewildering to the novice risking a few gold pieces for the first time +on the altar of chance. Sorting the gold pieces in even bunches, the +cashier estimated them in a moment; shoved them together; counted an +equal amount of fives with his fingers; made a little twirl in the +pile on the table; pushed it toward the winning pieces and left them +tumbled up together in pleasing confusion. + +"_Messieurs, faites vos_--" + +And the clinking went on, growing louder and louder, the clinking of +gold, which has a particularly musical sound, penetrating, +crystalline as the golden bells of Exodus, tinkling in the twilight of +the temple on the priest's raiment. The clinking, clinking, that +lingers in the brain long after, drawing the players to it night after +night; an intoxicating murmur, singing the desires that dominate the +world; the jingling that makes all men kin! + +"Oh, dear!" said a light feminine voice, as the rapacious rake +unceremoniously drew in a poor, diminutive pile of gold. "Why did I +play? Isn't it provoking?" + +"You have my sympathy, Mistress Susan," breathed a voice near her. + +Looking around, she had the grace to blush becomingly, and approached +Mauville with an expressive gesture, leaving Adonis and Kate at the +table. + +"Don't be shocked, Mr. Mauville," she began, hurriedly. "We were told +it was among the sights, and, having natural curiosity--" + +"I understand. Armed with righteousness, why should not one go +anywhere?" + +"Why, indeed?" she murmured. + +"But I'm afraid I'm taking you from your play?" + +"I'm not going to play any more to-night." + +"Tired, already?" + +"No; but--but I haven't a cent. That miserable table has robbed me of +everything. All I have left"--piteously--"are the clothes on my +back." + +"Something must have been the matter with your 'system.' But if a +temporary loan--" + +Susan was tempted, gazing longingly at the table, with the fever +burning in her. + +"No," she said, finally. "I _think_ I would win, but, of course, I +_might_ lose." + +"A wise reservation! Never place your fortune on the hazard of the +die." + +"But I have! What's the use of making good resolutions now? It's like +closing the barn-door after--" + +"Just so!" he agreed. "But it might have been worse." + +"How?" In dismay. "Didn't that stony-looking man rake in my last gold +piece? He didn't even look sorry, either. But what is the matter with +your arm?" The land baron's expression became ominous. "You shook +hands with your left hand. Oh, I see; the duel!" Lightly. + +"How did you hear about it?" asked Mauville, irritably. + +"Oh, in a roundabout way. Murder will out! And Constance--she was so +solicitous about Mr. Saint-Prosper, but rather proud, I believe, +because he"--with a laugh--"came off victorious." + +Susan's prattle, although accompanied by innocent glances from her +blue eyes, was sometimes the most irritating thing in the world, and +the land baron, goaded beyond endurance, now threw off his careless +manner and swore in an undertone by "every devil in Satan's +calendar." + +"Can you not reserve your soliloquy until you leave me?" observed +Susan, sweetly. "Otherwise--" + +"I regret to have shocked your ladyship," he murmured, satirically. + +"I forgive you." Raising her guileless eyes. "When I think of the +provocation, I do not blame you--so much!" + +"That is more than people do in your case," muttered the land baron +savagely. + +Susan's hand trembled. "What do you mean?" she asked, not without +apprehension regarding his answer. + +"Oh, that affair with the young officer--the lad who was killed in the +duel, you know--" + +Her composure forsook her for the moment and she bit her lip cruelly. + +"Don't!" she whispered. "I am not to blame. I never dreamed it would +go so far! Why should people--" + +"Why?" he interposed, ironically. + +Susan pulled herself together. "Yes, why?" she repeated, defiantly. +"Can women prevent men from making fools of themselves any more than +they can prevent them from amusing themselves as they will? To-day it +is this toy; to-morrow, another. At length"--bitterly--"a woman comes +to consider herself only a toy." + +Her companion regarded her curiously. "Well, well!" he ejaculated, +finally. "Losing at cards doesn't agree with your temper." + +"Nor being worsted by Saint-Prosper with yours!" she retorted +quickly. + +Mauville looked virulent, but Susan, feeling that she had retaliated +in ample measure, recovered her usual equanimity of temper and placed +a conciliatory hand sympathetically on his arm. + +"We have both had a good deal to try us, haven't we? But how stupid +men are!" she added suddenly. "As if you could not find other +consolation!" + +He directed toward her an inquiring glance. + +"Some time ago, while I was acting in London," resumed Susan, +thoughtfully, "the leading lady refused to receive the attentions of a +certain odious English lord. She was to make her appearance in a piece +upon which her reputation was staked. Mark what happened! She was +hissed! Hissed from the stage! My lord led this hostile demonstration +and all his hired claqueurs joined in. She was ruined; ruined!" +concluded Susan, smiling amiably. + +"You are ingenious, Mistress Susan--not to say a trifle diabolical. +Your plan--" + +She opened her eyes widely. "I have suggested no plan," she +interrupted, hurriedly. + +"Well, let us sit down and I will tell you about a French officer +who--But here is a quiet corner, Mistress Susan, and if you will +promise not to repeat it, I will regale you with a bit of interesting +gossip." + +"I promise--they always do!" she laughed. + +For such a frivolous lady, Susan was an excellent listener. She, who +on occasions chattered like a magpie, was now silent as a mouse, +drinking in the other's words with parted lips and sparkling eyes. +First he showed her the letter François had brought him. Unmarked by +postal indications, the missive had evidently been intrusted to a +private messenger of the governor whose seal it bore. Dated about +three years previously, it was written in a somewhat illegible, but +not unintelligible, scrawl, the duke's own handwriting. + +"I send you, my dear marquis," began the duke, "a copy of the secret +report of the military tribunal appointed to investigate the charges +against your kinsman, Lieut. Saint-Prosper, and regret the finding of +the court should have been one of guilty of treason. + +"Saint-Prosper and Abd-el-Kader met near the tomb of a marabout. From +him the French officer received a famous ruby which he thrust beneath +his zaboot--the first fee of their compact. That night when the town +lay sleeping, a turbaned host, armed with yataghans, stole through the +flowering cactuses. Sesame! The gate opened to them; they swarmed +within! The soldiers, surprised, could render little resistance; the +ruthless invaders cut them down while they were sleeping or before +they could sound the alarm. The bravest blood of France flowed +lavishly in the face of the treacherous onslaught; blood of men who +had been his fastest friends, among whom he had been so popular for +his dauntless courage and devil-may-care temerity! But a period, +fearfully brief, and the beloved tri-color was trampled in the dust; +the barbarian flag of the Emir floated in its place. + +"All these particulars, and the part Saint-Prosper played in the +terrible drama, Abd-el-Kader, who is now our prisoner, has himself +confessed. The necessity for secrecy, you, my dear Marquis, will +appreciate. The publicity of the affair now would work incalculable +injury to the nation. It is imperative to preserve the army from the +taint of scandal. The nation hangs on a thread. God knows there is +iniquity abroad. I, who have labored for the honor of France and +planted her flag in distant lands, look for defeat, not through want +of bravery, but from internal causes. A matter like this might lead to +a popular uprising against the army. Therefore, the king wills it +shall be buried by his faithful servants." + +As Mauville proceeded Susan remained motionless, her eyes growing +larger and larger, until they shone like two lovely sapphires, but +when he concluded she gave a little sigh of pleasure and leaned back +with a pleased smile. + +"Well?" he said, finally, after waiting some moments for her to +speak. + +"How piquantly wicked he is!" she exclaimed, softly. + +"Piquantly, indeed!" repeated the land baron, dryly. + +"And he carries it without a twinge! What a petrified conscience!" + +"I believe you find him more interesting than ever?" said Mauville, +impatiently. + +"Possibly!" Languidly. "An exceptional moral ailment sometimes makes a +man more attractive--like a--an interesting subject in a hospital, you +know! But I have always felt," she continued, with sudden seriousness, +"there was something wrong with him. When I first saw him, I was sure +he had had no ordinary past, but I did not dream it was quite so--what +shall we call it--" + +"Unsavory?" suggested her companion. + +"That accounts for his unwillingness to talk about Africa," went on +Susan. "Soldiers, as a rule, you know, like to tell all about their +sanguinary exploits. But the tented field was a forbidden topic with +him. And once when I asked him about Algiers he was almost rudely +evasive." + +"He probably lives in constant fear his secret will become known," +said Mauville, thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, the law provides +that no person is to be indicted for treason unless within three years +after the offense. The tribunal did not return an indictment; the +three years have just expired. Did he come to America to make sure of +these three years?" + +But Susan's thoughts had flitted to another feature of the story. + +"How strange my marquis should be connected with the case! What an old +compliment-monger he was! He vowed he was deeply smitten with me." + +"And then went home and took to his bed!" added Mauville, grimly. + +"You wretch!" said the young woman, playfully. "So that is the reason +the dear old molly-coddle did not take me to any of the gay suppers he +promised? Is it not strange Saint-Prosper has not met him?" + +"You forget the marquis has been confined to his room since his brief, +but disastrous, courtship of you. His infatuation seems to have +brought him to the verge of dissolution." + +"Was it not worth the price?" she retorted, rising. "But I see my +sister and Adonis are going, so I must be off, too. So glad to have +met you!" + +"You are no longer angry with me?" + +"No; you are very nice," she said. "And you have forgiven me?" + +"Need you ask?" Pressing her hand. "Good evening, Mistress Susan!" + +"Good evening. Oh, by the way, I have an appointment with Constance to +rehearse a little scene together this evening. Would you mind loaning +me that letter?" + +"With pleasure; but remember your promise." + +"Promise?" repeated the young woman. + +"Not to tell." + +"Oh, of course," said Susan. + +"But if you shouldn't--" + +"Then?" + +"Then you might say the marquis, your friend and admirer, gave you +the letter. It would, perhaps, be easier for you to account for it +than for me." + +"But if the marquis should learn--" began the other, half-dubiously. + +"He is too ill for anything except the grave." + +"Oh, the poor old dear!" + +She looked at the gaming table with its indefatigable players and then +turned to Kate and Adonis who approached at that moment. "How did you +come out, Adonis?" + +"Out," he said, curtly. + +"Lucky in love, unlucky at"--began Kate. + +"Then you must be very unlucky in love," he retorted, "for you were a +good winner at cards." + +"Oh, there are exceptions to that rule," said Kate lazily, with a +yawn. "I'm lucky at both--in New Orleans!" + +"I have perceived it," retorted Adonis, bitterly. + +"Don't quarrel," Susan implored. Regarding the table once more, she +sighed: "I'm so sorry I came!" + +But her feet fairly danced as she flew towards the St. Charles. She +entered, airy as a saucy craft, with "all sails in full chase, ribbons +and gauzes streaming at the top," and, with a frou-frou of skirts, +burst into Constance's room, brimful of news and importance. She +remained there for some time, and when she left, it was noteworthy her +spirits were still high. In crossing the hall, her red stockings +became a fitting color accompaniment to her sprightly step, as she +moved over the heavy carpet, skirts raised coquettishly, humming with +the gaiety of a young girl who has just left boarding school. + +"A blooming, innocent creature!" growled an up-the-river planter, +surveying her from one of the landings. "Lord love me, if she were +only a quadroon, I'd buy her!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY + + +A versatile dramatic poet is grim Destiny, making with equal facility +tragedy, farce, burletta, masque or mystery. The world is his inn, +and, like the wandering master of interludes, he sets up his stage in +the court-yard, beneath the windows of mortals, takes out his figures +and evolves charming comedies, stirring melodramas, spirited +harlequinades and moving divertissement. But it is in tragedy his +constructive ability is especially apparent, and his characters, +tripping along unsuspectingly in the sunny byways, are suddenly +confronted by the terrifying mask and realize life is not all pleasant +pastime and that the Greek philosophy of retribution is nature's law, +preserving the unities. When the time comes, the Master of events, +adjusting them in prescribed lines, reaches by stern obligation the +avoidless conclusion. + +Consulting no law but his own will, the Marquis de Ligne had lived as +though he were the autocrat of fate itself instead of one of its +servants, and therefore was surprised when the venerable playwright +prepared the unexpected dénouement. In pursuance of this end, it was +decreed by the imperious and incontrovertible dramatist of the human +family that this crabbed, vicious, antiquated marionette should wend +his way to the St. Charles on a particular evening. Since the day at +the races, the eccentric nobleman had been ill and confined to his +room, but now he was beginning to hobble around, and, immediately with +returning strength, sought diversion. + +"François," he said, "what is there at the theater to-night?" + +"Comic opera, my lord?" + +The marquis made a grimace. "Comic opera outside of Paris!" he +exclaimed, with a shrug of the shoulders. + +"A new actress makes her début at the St. Charles." + +"Let it be the début, then! Perhaps she will fail, and that will amuse +me." + +"Yes, my lord." + +"And, by the way, François, did you see anything of a large envelope, +a buff-colored envelope, I thought I left in my secretary?" + +"No, my lord." But François became just a shade paler. + +"It is strange," said the marquis, half to himself, "what could have +become of it! I destroyed other papers, but not that. You are sure, +François, you did not steal it?" + +By this time the servant's knees began to tremble, and, had the +marquis' eyesight been better, he could not have failed to detect the +other's agitation. But the valet assumed a bold front, as he asked: + +"Why should I have stolen it?" + +"True, why?" grumbled the marquis. "It would be of no service to you. +No; you didn't take it. I believe you honest--in this case!" + +"Thank you, my lord!" + +"After all, what does it matter?" muttered the nobleman to himself. +"What's in a good name to-day--with traitors within and traitors +without? 'Tis love's labor lost to have protected it! We've fostered a +military nest of traitors. The scorpions will be faithful to nothing +but their own ends. They'll fight for any master." + +Recalled to his purpose of attending the play by François' bringing +from the wardrobe sundry articles of attire, the marquis underwent an +elaborate toilet, recovering his good humor as this complicated +operation proceeded. Indeed, by the time it had reached a triumphant +end and the valet set the marquis before a mirror, the latter had +forgotten his dissatisfaction at the government in his pleasure with +himself. + +"Too much excitement is dangerous, is it?" he mumbled. "I am afraid +there will be none at all. A stage-struck young woman; a doll-like +face, probably; a milk-and-water performance! Now, in the old days +actors were artists. Yes, artists!" he repeated, as though he had +struck a chord that vibrated in his memory. + +Arriving at the theater, he was surprised at the scene of animation; +the line of carriages; the crowd about the doors and in the entrance +hall! Evidently the city eagerly sought novelty, and Barnes' company, +offering new diversion after many weeks of opera, drew a fair +proportion of pleasure-seekers to the portals of the drama. The noise +of rattling wheels and the banging of carriage doors; the aspect of +many fair ladies, irreproachably gowned; the confusion of voices from +venders hovering near the gallery entrance--imparted a cosmopolitan +atmosphere to the surroundings. + +"You'd think some well-known player was going to appear, François!" +grumbled the marquis, as he thrust his head out of his carriage. +"Looks like a theater off the Strand! And there's an orange-girl! A +dusky Peggy!" + +The vehicle of the nobleman drew up before the brilliantly-lighted +entrance. Mincingly, the marquis dismounted, assisted by the valet; +within he was met by a _loge_ director who, with the airs of a +Chesterfield, bowed the people in and out. + +"Your ticket, sir!" said this courteous individual, scraping unusually +low. + +The marquis waved his hand toward his man, and François produced the +bits of pasteboard. Escorted to his box, the nobleman settled himself +in an easy chair, after which he stared impudently and inquisitively +around him. + +And what a heterogeneous assemblage it was; of how many nationalities +made up; gay bachelors, representatives of the western trade and +eastern manufacturers; a fair sprinkling of the military element, +seeking amusement before departing for the front, their brass buttons +and striking new uniforms a grim reminder of the conflict waging +between the United States and Mexico; cotton brokers, banking agents, +sugar, tobacco and flour dealers; some evidently English with their +rosy complexions, and others French by their gesticulations! And among +the women, dashing belles from Saratoga, proud beauties from +Louisville, "milliner-martyred" daughters of interior planters, and +handsome creole matrons, in black gowns that set off their white +shoulders! + +In this stately assemblage--to particularize for a moment!--was seated +the (erstwhile!) saintly Madame Etalage, still proud in her bearing, +although white as an angel, and by her side, her carpet knight, an +extravagant, preposterous fop. A few seats in front of her prattled +the lovely _ingenue_, little Fantoccini, a biting libeller of other +actresses, with her pitiless tongue. To her left was a shaggy-looking +gentleman, the Addison of New Orleans' letters, a most tolerant +critic, who never spoke to a woman if he could avoid doing so, but +who, from his philosophical stool, viewed the sex with a conviction it +could do no wrong; a judgment in perspective, as it were! + +The marquis paid little attention to the men; it was the feminine +portion of the audience that interested him, and he regarded it with a +gloating leer, the expression of a senile satyr. Albeit a little on +the seamy side of life, his rank and wealth were such that he himself +attracted a good deal of attention, matronly eyes being turned in his +direction with not unkindly purport. The marquis perceived the stir +his presence occasioned and was not at all displeased; on the +contrary, his manner denoted gratification, smiling and smirking from +bud to blossom and from blossom to bud! + +How fascinating it was to revel in the sight of so much youth and +beauty from the brink of the grave whereon he stood; how young it made +him feel again! He rubbed his withered hands together in childish +delight, while he contemplated the lively charms of Fantoccini or +devoted himself to the no less diverting scrutiny of certain other +dark-haired ladies. + +While occupied in this agreeable pastime the nobleman became dimly +conscious the debutante had appeared and was greeted with the moderate +applause of an audience that is reserving its opinion. "Gad," said one +of the dandies who was keenly observing the nobleman, "it's +fashionable to look at the people and not at the actors!" And he +straightway stared at the boxes, assuming a lackadaisical, languishing +air. Having taken note of his surroundings to his satisfaction, the +marquis at length condescended to turn his eye-glass deliberately and +quizzically to the stage. His sight was not the best, and he gazed for +some time before discerning a graceful figure and a pure, oval face, +with dark hair and eyes. + +"Humph, not a bad stage presence!" he thought. "Probably plenty of +beauty, with a paucity of talent! That's the way nowadays. The +voice--why, where have I heard it before? A beautiful voice! What +melody, what power, what richness! And the face--" Here he wiped the +moisture from his glasses--"if the face is equal to the voice, she has +an unusual combination in an artist." + +Again he elevated the glass. Suddenly his attenuated frame straightened, +his hand shook violently and, the glasses fell from his nerveless +fingers. + +"Impossible!" he murmured. But the melody of those tones continued to +fall upon his ears like a voice from the past. + +When the curtain went down on the first act there was a storm of +applause. In New Orleans nothing was done by halves, and Constance, +as Adrienne Lecouvreur, radiant in youth and the knowledge of +success, was called out several times. The creoles made a vigorous +demonstration; the Americans were as pleased in their less impulsive +way; and in the loges all the lattices were pushed up, "a compliment +to any player," said Straws. To the marquis, the ladies in the +_loges_ were only reminiscent of the fashionable dames, with bare +shoulders and glittering jewels, in the side boxes of old Drury +Lane, leaning from their high tribunals to applaud the Adrienne of +twenty years ago! + +He did not sit in a theater in New Orleans now, but in London town, +with a woman by his side who bent beneath the storm of words she knew +were directed at her. As in a dream he lingered, plunged in thought, +with no longer the cynical, carping expression on his face as he +looked at the stage, but awed and wonder-stricken, transported to +another scene through the lapse of years that folded their shadowy +wings and made the past to-day. Two vivid pictures floated before him +as though they belonged to the present: Adrienne, bright, smiling and +happy, as she rushed into the green room, with the plaudits of the +multitude heard outside; Adrienne, in her last moments, betrayed to +death! + +They were applauding now, or was it but the mocking echo of the past? +The curtain had descended, but went up again, and the actress stood +with flowers showered around her. Save that she was in the springtime +of life, while the other had entered summer's season; that her art was +tender and romantic, rather than overwhelming and tragic, she was the +counterpart of the actress he had deserted in London; a faithful +prototype, bearing the mother's eyes, brow and features; a moving, +living picture of the dead, as though the grave had rolled back its +stone and she had stepped forth, young once more, trusting and +innocent. + +The musical bell rang in the wine room, where the worshipers of +Bacchus were assembled, the signal that the drop would rise again in +five minutes. At the bar the imbibers were passing judgment. + +"What elegance, deah boy! But cold--give me Fantoccini!" cried the +carpet knight. + +"Fantoccini's a doll to her!" retorted the worldly young spark +addressed. + +"A wicked French doll, then! What do you think?" Turning to the local +Addison. + +"Sir, she 'snatches a grace beyond the reach of art'!" replied that +worthy. + +"You ask for a criticism, and he answers in poetry!" retorted the +first speaker. + +"'Tis only the expression of the audience!" interposed another voice. + +"Oh, of course, Mr. Mauville, if you, too, take her part, that is the +end of it!" + +The land baron's smile revealed withering contempt, as with eyes +bright with suppressed excitement, and his face unusually sallow, he +joined the group. + +"The end of it!" he repeated, fixing his glance upon the captious +dandy. "The beginning, you mean! The beginning of her triumphs!" + +"Oh, have your own way!" answered the disconcerted critic. + +Mauville deliberately turned his back. "And such dunces sit in +judgment!" he muttered to the scholar. + +"Curse me, Mauville's in a temper to-night!" said the spark in a low +voice. "Been drinking, I reckon! But it's time for the next act!" + +Punches and juleps were hastily disposed of, and the imbibers quickly +sought their places. This sudden influx, with its accompanying +laughter and chattering, aroused the marquis from his lethargy. He +started and looked around him in bewilderment. The noise and the light +conversation, however, soon recalled his mind to a sense of his +surroundings, and he endeavored to recover his self-possession. + +Could it be possible it was but a likeness his imagination had +converted into such vivid resemblance? A sudden thought seized him and +he looked around toward the door of the box. + +"François!" he called, and the valet, who had been waiting his +master's pleasure without, immediately appeared. + +"Sit down, François!" commanded the marquis. "I am not feeling well. I +may conclude to leave soon, and may need your arm." + +The servant obeyed, and the nobleman, under pretense of finding more +air near the door, drew back his chair, where he could furtively watch +his man's face. The orchestra ceased; the curtain rose, and the valet +gazed mechanically at the stage. In his way, François was as _blasé_ +as his master, only, of course, he understood his position too well to +reveal that lassitude and ennui, the expression of which was the +particular privilege of his betters. He had seen many great actresses +and heard many peerless singers; he had delved after his fashion into +sundry problems, and had earned as great a right as any of the +nobility to satiety and defatigation in his old age, but unfortunately +he was born in a class which may feel but not reveal, and mask alike +content and discontent. + +Again those tones floated out from the past; musical, soft! The +marquis trembled. Did not the man notice? No; he was still looking +gravely before him. Dolt; did he not remember? Could he not recall the +times beyond number when he had heard that voice; in the ivy-covered +cottage; in the garden of English roses? + +Suddenly the valet uttered an exclamation; the stolid aspect of his +face gave way to an obvious thrill of interest. + +"My lord!" he cried. + +"An excellent actress, François; an excellent actress!" said the +marquis, rising. "Is that my coat? Get it for me. What are you +standing there for? Your arm! Don't you see I am waiting?" + +Overwrought and excitable, he did not dare remain for the latter +portion of the drama; better leave before the last act, he told +himself, and, dazed by the reappearance of that vision, the old man +fairly staggered from the box. + +The curtain fell for the last time, and Barnes, with exultation, stood +watching in the wings. She had triumphed, his little girl; she had won +the great, generous heart of New Orleans. He clapped his hands +furiously, joining in the evidences of approval, and, when the ovation +finally ceased and she approached, the old manager was so overcome he +had not a word to say. She looked at him questioningly, and he who had +always been her instructor folded her fondly to his breast. + +"I owe it all to you," she whispered. + +"Pooh!" he answered. "You stole fire from heaven. I am but a +theatrical, bombastic, barnstorming Thespian." + +"Would you spoil me?" she interrupted, tenderly. + +"You are your mother over again, my dear! If she were only here now! +But where is Saint-Prosper? He has not yet congratulated you? He, our +good genius, whose generosity has made all this possible!" And Barnes +half-turned, when she placed a detaining hand on his arm. + +"No, no!" + +"Why, my dear, have you and he--" + +"Is it not enough that you are pleased?" replied Constance, hastily, +with a glance so shining he forgot all further remonstrances. + +"Pleased!" exclaimed Barnes. "Why, I feel as gay as Momus! But we'll +sing Te Deum later at the festive board. Go now and get ready!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LAUGHTER AND TEARS + + +A supper was given the company after the performance by the manager, +to which representatives of the press--artful Barnes!--had been +invited. Of all the merry evenings in the bohemian world, that was one +of the merriest. Next to the young girl sat the Count de Propriac, his +breast covered with a double row of medals. Of the toasts drunk to +Constance, the manager, poets Straws and Phazma, etc., unfortunately +no record remains. Of the recollections of the wiry old lady; the +impromptu verse of the rhymsters; the roaring speech of Mr. Barnes; +the song and dainty flower dance by Susan and Kate--only the bare +facts have descended to the chronicler. + +So fancy must picture the wreaths of smoke; the superabundance of +flowers, the fragrance of cigars mingling with the perfume of fading +floral beauties; the pale dark-eyed girl presiding, upon her dusky +hair a crown of laurel, set there, despite her protestations, by +Phazma and Straws; the devotion of the count to his fair neighbor; the +almost superhuman pride of noisy Barnes; the attention bestowed by +Susan upon Saint-Prosper, while through his mind wandered the words of +a French song: + + "Adieu, la cour, adieu les dames; + Adieu les filles et les femmes--" + +Intermixed with this sad refrain the soldier's thoughts reverted to +the performance, and amidst the chatter of Susan, he reviewed again +and again the details of that evening. Was this the young girl who +played in school-houses, inns or town halls, he had asked himself, +seated in the rear of the theater? How coldly critical had been her +auditors; some of the faces about him ironical; the bored, tired faces +of men who had well-nigh drained life's novelties; the artificially +vivacious faces of women who played at light-heartedness and gaiety! +Yet how free from concern had she been, as natural and composed as +though her future had not depended upon that night! When she won an +ovation, he had himself forgotten to applaud, but had sat there, +looking from her to the auditors, to whom she was now bound by ties of +admiration and friendliness. + +"Don't you like her?" a voice next to him had asked. + +Like her? He had looked at the man, blankly. + +"Yes," he had replied. + +Then the past had seemed to roll between them: the burning sands; the +voices of the troops; the bugle call! In his brain wild thoughts had +surged and flowed--as they were surging and flowing now. + +"Is he not handsome, Constance's new admirer?" whispered Susan. "What +can he be saying? She looks so pleased! He is very rich, isn't he?" + +"I don't know," answered Saint-Prosper, brusquely. + +Again the thoughts surged and surged, and the past intruded itself! +Reaching for his glass, he drank quickly. + +"Don't you ever feel the effects of wine?" asked the young woman. + +His glance chilled her, it seemed so strange and steely! + +"I believe you are so--so strong you don't even notice it," added +Susan, with conviction. "But you don't have half as good a time!" + +"Perhaps I enjoy myself in my way," he answered. + +"What is your way?" she asked quickly. "You don't appear to be wildly +hilarious in your pleasures." And Susan's bright eyes rested on him +curiously. "But we were speaking about the count and Constance. Don't +you think it would be a good match?" she continued with enthusiasm. +"Alas, my titled admirer got no further than the beginning. But men +are deceivers ever! When they _do_ reach the Songs of Solomon, they +pass on to Exodus!" + +"And leave the fair ones to Lamentations," said Straws, who had caught +her last remarks. + +"Or Revelations!" added Phazma. + +At the sound of their laughter, Constance looked coldly their way, +until a remark from the count at her right, and, "As I was saying, my +dear," from the old lady at her left, engrossed the young girl's +attention once more. But finally the great enemy of joy--the grim +guardian of human pleasure--the reaper whose iron hands move ever in a +circle, symbolical of eternity--finally, Time reminded Barnes that the +hour had surely arrived when the curtain should descend upon these +festivities. So he roared out a last blithe farewell, and the guests +departed one by one, taking with them flowers in memory of the +occasion, until all had left save Constance, the count, Saint-Prosper +and the manager. Barnes was talking somewhat incoherently, holding the +soldier by the coat and plunging into successive anecdotes about stage +folk, while Saint-Prosper, apparently listening, observed the diplomat +and Constance, whose conversation he could overhear. + +"As I said to the Royal Infanta of Spain, flattery flies before truth +in your presence, Mademoiselle," sighed the count. And then raising +her hand to his lips, "_Ah, ma chere Mademoiselle, que je vous +adore!_" he whispered. + +She withdrew it hastily, and, ogling and gesticulating, he bowed +himself out, followed by the manager. + +Leaning against the chair, her figure outlined by the glow from the +crystal chandelier, her face in shadow, the hand the diplomat had +pressed to his lips resting in the exposed light on the mahogany, the +gaiety went out of her face, and the young girl wearily brushed the +hair from her brow. As if unaware of the soldier's presence, she +glanced absently at the table in its wrecked glory, and, throwing her +lace wrap over her arm, was moving toward the door, when he spoke. + +"Miss Carew!" + +She paused, standing with clasped hands before him, while the scarf +slipped from her arm and fell at her feet. + +"May I not also tell you how glad I am--that you succeeded to-night?" + +"I dislike congratulations!" she said, indifferently. + +He looked at her quickly, but her eyes expressed only apathy. In his a +sudden gleam of light appeared. + +"From me, you mean?" The light became brighter. + +She did not answer. His self-control was fast ebbing. + +"You underestimate your favors, if you fancy they are easily +forgotten!" + +A crimson flush extended to her brow; the unconcern died out of her +eyes. + +"I do not understand," she answered, slowly. + +"When a woman says 'I do not understand,' she means 'I wish to +forget'." + +Her wide-open glance flashed ominously to his; she clasped and +unclasped her fingers. + +"Forget what?" she said, coldly. + +"Nameless nothings!" he returned. "A smile--a glance--nothing to you, +perhaps, but"--the set expression of his face giving way to abrupt +passion!--"everything to me! Perhaps I had not meant to say this, but +it seems as though the words must come out to-night. It may be"--his +voice vibrating with strange earnestness--"for once I want to be +myself. For weeks we have been--friends--and then suddenly you begin +to treat me--how? As though I no longer existed! Why did you deceive +me--let me drift on? Because I was mute, did you think I was blind? +Why did I join the strollers--the land baron accused me of following +you across the country. He was right; I was following you. I would not +confess it to myself before. But I confess it now! It was a fool's +paradise," he ended, bitterly. + +She shrank back before his vehement words; something within her +appeared violated; as though his plea had penetrated the sanctity of +her reserve. + +"Would it not be well to say nothing about deception?" she replied, +and her dark eyes swept his face. Then, turning from him abruptly, she +stepped to the window, and, drawing aside the lace curtains +mechanically, looked out. + +The city below was yet teeming with life, lights gleaming everywhere +and shadowy figures passing. Suddenly out of the darkness came a +company of soldiers who had just landed, marching through the streets +toward the camping ground and singing as they went. + +The chorus, like a mighty breath of patriotism, filled her heart to +overflowing. It seemed as though she had heard it for the first time; +had never before felt its potency. All the tragedy of war swept before +her; all that inspiring, strange affection for country, kith and kin, +suddenly exalted her. + +[Illustration] + +Above the tramping of feet, the melody rose and fell on the distant +air, dying away as the figures vanished in the gloom. With its love of +native land, its expression of the unity of comradeship and ties +stronger than death, the song appeared to challenge an answer; and, +when the music ceased, and only the drum-beats still seemed to make +themselves heard, she raised her head without moving from her position +and looked at him to see if he understood. But though she glanced at +him, she hardly saw him. In her mind was another picture--the betrayed +garrison; the soldiers slain!--and the horror of it threw such a film +over her gaze that he became as a figure in some distressing dream. + +An inkling of her meaning--the mute questioning of her eyes--the dread +evoked by that revolting vision of the past--were reflected in his +glance. + +"Deceived you?" he began, and his voice, to her, sounded as from afar. +"How--what--" + +"Must it be--could it be put into words?" + +The deepest shadows dwelt in her eyes; shadows he could not penetrate, +although he still doggedly, yet apprehensively, regarded her! Watching +her, his brow grew darker. + +"Why not?" he continued, stubbornly. + +Why? The dimness that had obscured her vision lifted. Now she saw him +very plainly, indeed; tall and powerful; his face, harsh, intense, as +though by the vigor of physical and mental force he would override any +charge or imputation. + +Why? She drew herself up, as he quickly searched her eyes, bright with +the passions that stirred her breast. + +"You told me part of your story that day in the property wagon," she +began, repugnance, scorn and anger all mingling in her tones. "Why did +you not tell me the rest?" + +His glance, too, flashed. Would he still profess not to understand +her? His lips parted; he spoke with an effort. + +"The rest?" he said, his brow lowering. + +"Yes," she answered quickly; "the stain upon your name!--the garrison +sold!--the soldiers killed!--murdered!--" + +She had turned to him swiftly, fiercely, with her last words, but +before the look of sudden shame and dread on his face, her eyes +abruptly fell as though a portion of his dishonor had inexplicably +touched her. He made no attempt to defend himself--motionless he stood +an instant--then, without a word, he moved away. At the threshold he +paused, but she did not look up--could not! A moment; an eternity! + +"Why don't you go?" she cried. "Why don't you go?" + +The door opened, closed; she was alone. + +Pale as the dying lilies on the table, she stepped toward the +threshold, when Barnes, chipper and still indefatigable, entered by +another door. He was too inspired with festal intoxication to observe +her agitation. + +"What, my dear!" he exclaimed cheerily. "Has he gone? Did you make up +your little differences? Did you settle your quarrel before he leaves +for Mexico?" + +"For Mexico!" she repeated, mechanically. + +"Of course. He has his commission in the army and leaves early in the +morning. But you look tired, my dear. I declare you are quite +pale"--pinching her cheek--"rest will bring back the roses, though." + +Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck. + +"Why, why, what's this?" he said, patting her head. + +"I only care for you," she whispered. "My dear! My dear!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN + + +"'Perhaps she will fail, and that will amuse me,'" ruminated François +on his high seat next to the coachman, repeating the marquis' words, +as they drove home after the nobleman's precipitous retreat from the +theater. "Well, he didn't look as though he had been particularly +amused. But no wonder he was startled! It even"--reviewing the +impression first made upon him at sight of the actress--"sent a shiver +through me!" Here the carriage drew up sharply before the marquis' +home, and François, hastily alighting, threw open the door. + +"Eh? What? Are we here?" muttered the marquis, starting from the +corner where he had been reclining. + +He arose with some difficulty; traversed the sidewalk and the +shell-strewn path to the house which loomed darkly before them; paused +at the foot of the stairs where he breathed heavily, complaining of +the oppressiveness of the air; and finally, with the assistance of the +valet, found himself once more in his room, the sick chamber he had +grown to detest! Here alone--having dismissed the servant as soon as +possible--he moved restlessly to and fro, pondering deeply. Since the +moment when he had seen and recognized his daughter, all the buoyancy +which had given his wasted figure a sort of galvanic vitality seemed +to vanish. It was like the exhaustion of a battery, the collapse of +the sustaining power. + +"That resemblance can not be coincidence!" he thought. "Oh, errors of +the past, you come home in our old age when the limbs are faltering +and life is failing!" + +Going to the _secrétaire_, he took out a box that had not been opened +in years, and, with trembling fingers, turned over many papers. He +shivered, and, thinking it was cold, stirred the fire. Returning to +the secretary, he took from the box a package tied with a ribbon +still, after the lapse of these many years, slightly fragrant, and he +breathed that perfume, so faint, so subtle, while recollections smote +him like a knife. + +Its scent was familiar to him; it seemed to bring life to the dead, +and for the moment in his mind's eye he saw her glowing figure, the +love of his youth, with flashing, revengeful eyes and noble mien. He +cowered over the desk, as if shrinking from an avenging spirit, while +the perfume, like opium, filled his brain with strange fantasies. He +strove to drown remembrance, but some force--it seemed not his +own!--drove him irresistibly to untie that ribbon, to scrutinize many +old theater programs and to gaze upon a miniature in ivory depicting a +woman in the loveliness of her charms, but whose striking likeness to +the young actress he had just seen filled his heart with strange fear. +Some power--surely it could not have been his will which rebelled +strenuously!--impelled him to open those letters and to read them word +for word. The tenderness of the epistles fell on his heart as though +to scorch it, and he quivered like a guilty wretch. His eyes were +fascinated by these words in her last letter: "Should you desert me +and your unborn child, your end will be miserable. As I believe in +retribution, I am sure you will reap as you have sown." + +Suddenly the reader in a frenzy threw the letter to the floor and +trampled on it. He regarded the face in the miniature with fear and +hatred, and dashing it into the drawer, called down maledictions on +her. He ceased abruptly, weak and wavering. + +"I am going insane," he said, laughing harshly. "Fool! To let that +woman's memory disturb me. So much for her dire prophecy!" And he +snapped his fingers and dropped the letter in the fire. + +"What can her curse avail?" he said aloud. "She is gone, turned to +ashes like that paper and there is no life after this one. All then is +nothing--emptiness--a blank! I need rest. It is this cursed dyspepsia +which has made me nervous. Something to compose me, and then to bed!" + +In spite of soothing powders, however, he passed a restless night and +arose unrefreshed, but ordered his valet to bring one of his lightest +suits, and, having dressed, he set a white flower upon his coat, while +the servant proceeded to apply various pigments to the wrinkled face, +until it took on a mocking semblance to the countenance of a man +fifteen years younger. The marquis leered at himself in the pier-glass +and assumed a jauntiness of demeanor he was far from feeling. + +"I do not look tired or worried, François?" + +"Not at all, my lord," replied the obsequious valet. "I never saw you, +my lord, appear so young and well." + +"Beneath the surface, François, there is age and weakness," answered +the marquis in a melancholy tone. + +"It is but a passing indisposition, my lord," asserted the servant, +soothingly. + +"Perhaps. But, François"--peering around--"as I look over my shoulder, +do you know what I see?" + +The almost hideous expression of the roué's face alarmed the servant. + +"No, my lord, what is it?" + +"A figure stands there in black and is touching me. It is the spirit +of death, François. You can not see it, but there it is--" + +"My lord, you speak wildly." + +"I have seen some strange things, François. The dead have arisen. And +I have received my warning. Soon I shall join those dark specters +which once gaily traversed this bright world. A little brandy and +soda, François." + +The servant brought it to him. The marquis leered awfully over his +shoulder once more. "Your health, my guest!" he exclaimed, laughing +harshly. "But my hat, François; I have business to perform, important +business!" + +He ambled out of the room. On the street he was all politeness, +removing his hat to a dark brunette who rolled by in her carriage, and +pausing to chat with another representative of the sex of the blond +type. Then he gaily sauntered on, until reaching the theater he +stopped and made a number of inquiries. Who was the manager of +Constance Carew? Where was he to be found? "At the St. Charles hotel?" +He was obliged to Monsieur, the ticket-seller, and wished him +good-day. + +Entering the hotel, he sent his card to Barnes, requesting an +interview, and the manager, overcome by the honor of such a visit, +responded with alacrity. The customary formalities over, the nobleman +congratulated Barnes on the performance and led the conversation to +the young actress. + +"Pardon my curiosity," he said, with apparent carelessness, "but I'm +sure I remember an actress of the same name in London--many years +ago?" + +"Her mother, undoubtedly," replied the manager, proudly. + +"She was married, was she not, to--" + +"A scoundrel who took her for his wife in one church and repudiated +the ties through another denomination!" + +"Ah, a French-English marriage!" said the marquis, blandly. "An old +device! But what was this lover's name?" + +"This husband's, my lord!" + +"Lover or husband, I fancy it is all the same to her now," sneered the +caller. "She has passed the point where reputation matters." + +"Her reputation is my concern, Monsieur le Marquis!" + +"You knew her?" asked the nobleman, as though the conversation wearied +him. "And she was faithful to his memory? No scandals--none of those +little affairs women of her class are prone to? There"--as Barnes +started up indignantly--"spare me your reproaches! I'm too feeble to +quarrel. Besides, what is it to me? I was only curious about her--that +is all! But she never spoke the name of her husband?" + +"Not even to her own child!" + +"She does not know her father's name?" repeated the marquis. "But I +thank you; Mademoiselle Constance is so charming I must needs call to +ask if she were related to the London actress! Good-day, Monsieur! You +are severe on the lover. Was it not the fashion of the day for the +actresses to take lovers, or for the fops to have an opera girl or a +comedienne? Did your most popular performers disdain such diversions?" +he sneered. "_Pardie_, the world has suddenly become moral! A +gentleman can no longer, it would seem, indulge in gentlemanly +follies." + +Mumbling about the decadence of fashion, the marquis departed, his +manner so strange the manager gazed after him in surprise. + +With no thought of direction, his lips moving, talking to himself in +adynamic fashion, the nobleman walked mechanically on until he reached +the great cathedral. The organ was rolling and voices arose sweet as +those of seraphim. He hesitated at the portal and then laughed to +himself. "Well has Voltaire said: 'Pleasure has its time; so, too, has +wisdom. Make love in thy youth, and in old age, attend to thy +salvation.'" He repeated the latter words, but, although he paused at +the threshold and listened, he did not enter. + +As he stood there, uncertain and trembling, a figure replete with +youth and vigor approached, and, glancing at her, an exclamation +escaped him that caused her to pause and turn. + +"You are not well," she said, solicitously. "Can I help you?" + +"It is nothing, nothing!" answered the marquis, ashy pale at the sight +of her and the proximity of that face which regarded him with womanly +sympathy. "Go away." + +"At least, let me assist you. You were going to the cathedral? Come!" + +His hand rested upon her strong young arm; he felt himself too weak to +resist, so, together--father and daughter!--they entered the +cathedral. Side by side they knelt--he to keep up the farce, fearing +to undeceive her--while yet only mocking words came to the old man's +heart, as the bitterness of the situation overwhelmed him. She was a +daughter in whom a prince might have found pride, but he remained +there mute, not daring to speak, experiencing all the tortures of +remorse and retribution. Of what avail had been ambition? How had it +overleaped content and ease of mind! Into what a nest of stings and +thorns his loveless marriage had plunged him! And now but the black +shadow remained; he walked in the darkness of unending isolation. So +he should continue to walk straight to the door of death. + +He scarcely heard the organ or the voice of the priest. The high +altar, with its many symbols, suggested the thousands that had +worshiped there and gone away comforted. Here was abundant testimony +of the blessings of divine mercy in the numerous costly gifts and in +the discarded crutches, and here faith had manifested itself for +generations. + +The marquis' throat was hoarse; he could have spoken no words if he +had tried. He laughed in his heart at the gifts of the grateful ones; +those crosses of ivory and handsome lamps were but symbols of +barbarism and superstition. The tablets, with their inscriptions, +_"Merci"_ and _"Ex voto,"_ were to him absurd, and he gibed at the +simple credulity of the people who could thus be misled. All these +evidences of thanksgiving were but cumulative testimony that men and +women are like little children, who will be pleased over fairy tales +or frightened over ghost stories. The promise of paradise, but the +fairy tale told by priests to men and women; the threats of +punishment, the ghost stories to awe them! A malicious delight crept +into his diseased imagination that he alone in the cathedral possessed +the extreme divination, enabling him to perceive the emptiness of all +these signs and symbols. He labored in a fever of mental excitement +and was only recalled to himself as his glance once more rested upon +the young girl. + +He became dimly conscious that people were moving past them, and he +suddenly longed to cry out, "My child!" but he fought down the +impulse. There could be no turning back now at the eleventh hour; the +marquis was a philosopher, and did not believe that, in a twinkling of +an eye, a man may set behind all that has transpired and regard it as +naught. Something within held him from speaking to her--perhaps his +own inherent sense of the consistency of things; his appreciation of +the legitimate finale to a miserable order of circumstances! Even +pride forbade departure from long-established habit. But while this +train of thought passed through his mind, he realized she was +regarding him with clear, compassionate eyes, and he heard her voice: + +"Shall we go now? The services are over." + +He obeyed without question. + +"Over!" + +Those moments by her side would never return! They were about to part +to meet no more on earth. He leaned heavily upon her arm and his steps +were faltering. Out into the warm sunshine they passed, the light +revealing more plainly the ravages of time in his face. + +"You must take a carriage," she said to the old man. + +"Thank you, thank you," he replied. "Leave me here on the bench. I +shall soon be myself. I am only a little weak. You are good to an old +man. May I not"--asking solely for the pleasure of hearing her +speak--"may I not know the name of one who is kind to an old man?" + +"My name is Constance Carew." + +He shook as with the palsy. "A good name, a good name!" he repeated. +"I remember years ago another of that name--an actress in London. A +very beautiful woman, and good! But even she had her detractors and +none more bitter than the man who wronged her. You--you resemble her! +But there, don't let me detain you. I shall do very well here. You are +busy, I dare say." + +"Yes, I should be at rehearsal," she replied regretfully. + +"At rehearsal!" he repeated. "Yes!--yes!--. But the stage is no place +for you!" he added, suddenly. "You should leave it--leave it!" + +She looked at him wonderingly. "Is there nothing more I can do for +you?" + +"Nothing! Nothing! Except--no, nothing!" + +"You were about to ask something?" she observed with more sympathy. + +"If you would not think me presuming--if you would not deem it an +offense--you remind me of one I loved and lost--it is so long ago +since I felt her kiss for the last time--I am so near the grave--" + +With tears in her eyes, she bent her head and her fresh young lips +just touched his withered brow. + +"Good-by," she said. "I am so sorry for you!" And she was gone, +leaving him sitting there motionless as though life had departed. + +A rattling cab that clattered noisily past the cabildo and calaboza, +and swung around the square, aroused the marquis. He arose, stopped +the driver, and entered the rickety vehicle. + +"The law office of Marks and Culver," said the marquis. + +The man lashed his horse and the attenuated quadruped flew like a +winged Pegasus, soon drawing up before the attorneys' office. +Fortunately Culver was in, and, although averse to business on any +day--thinking more of his court-yard and his fountain than of his law +books--this botanist-solicitor made shift to comply with the marquis' +instructions and reluctantly earned a modest fee. He even refused to +express surprise at my lord's story; one wife in London, another in +Paris; why, many a southern gentleman had two families--quadroons +being plentiful, why not? Culver unobtrusively yawned, and, with fine +courtesy, bowed the marquis out. + +Slowly the latter retraced his steps to his home; his feet were heavy +as lead; his smile was forced; he glanced frequently over his +shoulder, possessed by a strange fantasy. + +"I think I will lie down a little," he said to his valet. "In this +easy chair; that will do. I am feeling well; only tired. How that mass +is repeated in my mind! That is because it is Palestrina, François; +not because it is a vehicle to salvation, employed by the gibbering +priests. Never let your heart rule your head, boy. Don't mistake +anything for reality. 'What have you seen in your travels?' was asked +of Sage Evemere. 'Follies!' was the reply. 'Follies, follies +everywhere!' We never live; we are always in the expectation of +living." + +He made an effort to smile which was little more than a grimace. + +"A cigar, François!" + +"My lord, are you well?--" + +The marquis flew into a rage and the valet placed an imported weed in +his master's hand. + +"A light, François!" + +The valet obeyed. For a moment the strong cigar seemed to soothe the +old man, although his hand shook like an aspen as he held it. + +"Now, bring me my Voltaire," commanded the marquis. "The volume on the +table, idiot! Ah! here is what I wish: 'It takes twenty years to bring +man from the state of embryo, and from that of a mere criminal, as he +is in his first infancy, to the point when his reason begins to dawn. +It has taken thirty centuries to know his structure; it would take +eternity to know something of the soul; it takes but an instant to +kill him.' But an instant; but an instant!" he repeated. + +He puffed feebly at the cigar. + +"It is cold here, François." + +The servant consulted the thermometer. + +"It is five degrees warmer than you are accustomed to, my lord," he +replied. + +"Bring me the thermometer," commanded the old man. "You should not +lie, François. It is a bad fault in servants. Leave it to your +masters; it is a polite vice. The privilege of the world's potentates, +diplomats and great people. Never fall into the rut of lying, +François, or you will soon outlive your usefulness as a valet." + +"You can see that I speak the truth, my lord," was the response, as +calm as ever, for nothing disturbed or ruffled this ideal servant. + +He held out the thermometer for the marquis' inspection and the latter +examined it carefully. The cigar fell from his fingers to the floor. +The attentive valet picked it up and threw it into the grate. + +"I believe, François," stammered the marquis, "that the fault lies +with me. It is I--I, who am growing cold like death." + +"Yes, my lord," answered the calm and imperturbable servant. + +"'Yes?' you blockhead!" shrieked the master. "Do you know what you are +saying?" + +"Well, no, then, my lord," responded the unmoved valet. + +"Yes and no!" shouted the marquis in a voice that was wildly +discordant. "What do you mean?" + +"Whatever my lord pleases," was the quiet response. + +"_Mon Dieu_! I'll discharge you." + +The servant only smiled. + +"Why did you smile?" + +"Oh, my lord--" + +"Was it not that you thought it a good joke for a dying man to +discharge his servant?" + +"My lord is quick to catch the humorous side of anything," returned +François. + +"Begone, idiot! You are waiting for my death to discharge you. I can +see it in your eyes. Yet stay, François, for, if you leave me, I shall +be alone. You will not leave me?" + +"As my lord desires," was François' response. + +"I imagine I should feel better if I had my footbath." + +The servant removed the shoes and silken stockings from his master's +feet and propped him up in a chair, throwing a blanket over his +shoulders and heaping more wood upon the fire in the grate. + +"More fire, you idiot!" cried the marquis, peevishly. "Do you not see +that I am freezing?" + +"It is ten degrees above the temperature my lord always ordered," +retorted François, coolly. + +"Ten degrees! Oh, you wish to remind me that the end is approaching? +You do not dare deny it!" The valet shrugged his shoulders. + +"But I am not gone yet." He wagged his head cunningly and began to +laugh to himself. His mind apparently rambled, for he started to chant +a French love song in a voice that had long since lost its capacity +for a sustained tone. The words were distinct, although the melody was +broken, and the spectacle was gruesome enough. As he concluded he +looked at the valet as if for approbation and began to mumble about +his early love affairs. + +"Bah, François," he said shrilly, "I'll be up to-morrow as gay as +ever. _Vive l'amour! vive la joie!_ It was a merry life we led, eh, +François?" + +"Merry indeed, my lord." + +"It kept you busy, François. There was the little peasant girl on the +Rhine. What flaxen hair she had and eyes like the sky! Yet a word of +praise--a little flattery--" + +"My lord was irresistible," said the valet with mild sarcasm. + +"Let me see, François, what became of her?" + +"She drowned herself in the river." + +"That is true. I had forgotten. Well, life is measured by pleasures, +not by years, and I was the prince of coxcombs. Up at ten o'clock; +no sooner on account of the complexion; then visits from the +tradespeople and a drive in the park to look at the ladies. It was +there I used to meet the English actress. 'Twas there, with her, I +vowed the park was a garden of Eden! What a scene, when my barrister +tried to settle the case! Fortunately a marriage in England was not +a marriage in France. I saw her last night, François"--with an +insane look--"in the flesh and blood; as life-like as the night +before we took the stage for Brighton!" Suddenly he shrieked and a +look of terror replaced the vain, simpering expression. + +"There, François!" Glancing with awe behind him. And truly there stood +a dark shadow; a gruesome presence. His face became distorted and he +lapsed into unconsciousness. + +The valet gazed at him with indifference. Then he went to an inner +room and brought a valise which he began packing carefully and +methodically. After he had completed this operation he approached the +dressing table and took up a magnificent jeweled watch, which he +examined for a moment before thrusting it into his pocket. A snuff +box, set with diamonds, and several rings followed. François with the +same deliberation opened a drawer and took out a small box which he +tried to open, and, failing, forced the lid with the poker. At this, +my lord opened his eyes, and, in a weak voice, for his strength had +nearly deserted him, demanded: + +"What are you doing, François?" + +"Robbing you, my lord," was the slow and dignified response. + +The marquis' eyes gleamed with rage. He endeavored to call out, but +his voice failed him and he fell back, trembling and overcome. + +"Thief! Ingrate!" he hissed, hoarsely. + +"I beg you not to excite yourself, my lord," said the stately valet. +"You are already very weak and it will hasten the end." + +"Is this the way you repay me?" + +"My lord will not need these things soon." + +"Have you no gratitude?" stammered the marquis, whose physical and +mental condition was truly pitiable. + +"Gratitude for having been called 'idiot,' 'dog,' and 'blockhead' +nearly all my life! I am somewhat lacking in that quality, I fear." + +"Is there no shame in you?" + +"Shame?" repeated François, as he proceeded to ransack another drawer. +"There might have been before I went into your service, my lord. Yes; +once I felt shame for you. It was years ago, in London, when you +deserted your beautiful wife. When I saw how she worshiped you and +what a noble woman she was, I confess I felt ashamed that I served one +of the greatest blackguards in Europe--" + +"Oh, you scoundrel--" exclaimed the marquis, his face becoming a +ghastly hue. + +"Be calm, my lord. You really are in need of all your energy. For +years I have submitted to your shameful service. I have been at the +beck and call of one of the greatest roués and villains in France. +Years of such association would somewhat soil any nature. Another +thing, my lord, I must tell you, since you and I are settling our last +accounts. For years I have endured your miserable King Louis Philippe. +A king? Bah! He fled from the back door! A coward, who shaved his +whiskers for a disguise." + +"No more, rascal!" + +"Rascal yourself, you worn-out, driveling breath of corruption! It is +so pleasant to exercise a gentleman's privilege of invective! Ah, here +is the purse. _Au revoir_, my lord. A pleasant dissolution!" + +But by this time the marquis was speechless, and François, taking the +valise in hand, deferentially left the room. He locked the door behind +him and thrust the key into his pocket. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE OLD CEMETERY + + +The engagement at the new St. Charles was both memorable and +profitable, The Picayune, before the fifties, an audacious sheet, +being especially kind to the players. "This paper," said a writer of +the day, "was as full of witticisms as one of Thackeray's dreams after +a light supper, and, as for Editors Straws and Phazma, they are poets +who eat, talk and think rhyme." The Picayune contained a poem +addressed to Miss Carew, written by Straws in a cozy nook in the +veranda at the Lake End, with his absinthe before him and the remains +of an elaborate repast about him. It was then quite the fashion to +write stanzas to actresses; the world was not so prosaic as it is now, +and even the president of the United States, John Quincy Adams, penned +graceful verses to a fair ward of Thalia. + +One noon, a few days after the opening performance, several members of +the company were late for rehearsal and Barnes strode impatiently to +and fro, glancing at his watch and frowning darkly. To avenge himself +for the remissness of the players, he roared at the stage carpenters +who were constructing a balcony and to the supers who were shifting +flats to the scenery room. The light from an open door at the back of +the stage dimly illumined the scene; overhead, in the flies, was +intense darkness; while in front, the auditorium yawned like a chasm, +in no wise suggestive of the brilliant transformation at night. + +"Ugh!" said Susan, standing in one of the entrances. "It is like +playing to ghosts! Fancy performing to an audience of specters! +Perhaps the phantoms of the past really do assemble in their old +places on occasions like this. Only you can't hear them applaud or +laugh." + +"Are you looking for admirers among ghosts?" remarked Hawkes, +ironically. + +"Don't," she returned, with a little shiver. + +"So, ladies and gentlemen, you are all here at last?" exclaimed +Barnes, interrupting this cheerful conversation. "Some of you are late +again to-day. It must not happen again. Go to Victor's, Moreau's, or +Miguel's, as much as you please. If you have a headache or a heartache +in consequence, that is your own affair, but I am not to be kept +waiting the next day." + +"Victor's, indeed!" retorted the elastic old lady. "As if--" + +"No one supposed, Madam, that at your age"--began the manager. + +"At my age! If you think--" + +"Are you all ready?" interrupted Barnes, hastily, knowing he would be +worsted in any argument with this veteran player. "Then clear the +stage! Act first!" And the rehearsal began. + +If the audience were specters, the performers moved, apparently +without rhyme or reason, mere shadows on the dimly lighted stage; +enacting some semblance to scenes of mortal life; their jests and +gibes, unnatural in that comparatively empty place; their voices, out +of the semi-darkness, like those of spirits rehearsing acts of long +ago. In the evening it would all become an amusing, bright-colored +reality, but now the barrenness of the scenes was forcibly apparent. + +"That will do for to-day," said the manager at the conclusion of the +last act. "To-morrow, ladies and gentlemen, at the same time. And any +one who is late--will be fined!" + +"Changing the piece every few nights is all work and no play," +complained Susan. + +"It will keep you out of mischief, my dear," replied Barnes, gathering +up his manuscripts. + +"Oh, I don't know about that!" returned Miss Susan, with a defiant +toss of the head, as she moved toward the dressing-room where they +had left their wraps. It was a small apartment, fairly bright and +cheery, with here and there a portrait against the wall. Above the +dressing-table hung a mirror, diamond-scratched with hieroglyphic +scrawls, among which could be discerned a transfixed heart, spitted +like a lark on an arrow, and an etching of Lady Gay Spanker, with +cork-screw curls. Taglioni, in pencil caricature, her limbs +"divinely slender," gyrated on her toes in reckless abandon above +this mute record of names now forgotten. + +"What lovely roses, Constance!" exclaimed Susan, as she entered, +bending over a large bouquet on one of the chairs. "From the count, I +presume?" + +"Yes," indifferently answered the young girl, who was adjusting her +hat before the mirror. + +"How attentive he is!" cooed Susan, her tones floating in a higher +register. "Poor man! Enjoy yourself while you may, my dear," she went +on. "When youth is gone, what is left? Women should sow their wild +oats as well as men. I don't call them wild oats, though, but +paradisaical oats. The Elysian fields are strewn with them." + +As she spoke, her glance swept her companion searchingly, and, in that +brief scrutiny, Susan observed with inward complacency how pale the +other was, and how listless her manner! Their common secret, however, +made Susan's outward demeanor sweetly solicitous and gently +sympathetic. Her mind, passing in rapid review over recent events, +dwelt not without certain satisfaction upon results. True, every night +she was still forced to witness Constance's success, which of itself +was wormwood and gall to Susan, to stand in the wings and listen to +the hateful applause; but the conviction that the sweets of popular +favor brought not what they were expected to bring, was, in a way, an +antidote to Susan's dissatisfaction. + +A little knowledge is a dangerous thing and can sometimes be made +annoying; in Susan's case it was a weapon sharpened with honeyed +phrase and consolatory bearing, for she was not slow to discover nor +to avail herself of the irritating power this knowledge gave her. +Constance's pride and reticence, however, made it difficult for Susan +to discern when her shafts went true. Moreover, although harboring no +suspicion of Susan's dissimulation, she instinctively held aloof from +her and remained coldly unresponsive. Perhaps in the depths of Susan's +past lurked something indefinable which threw its shadow between them, +an inscrutable impediment; and her inability to penetrate the young +actress' reserve, however she might wound her, awakened Susan's +resentment. But she was too world-wise to display her irritation. She +even smiled sweetly now, as confidante to confidante, and, turning to +her impulsively, said: + +"Let me help you on with your cloak, dear?" + +Out of the quiet, deserted theater, isolated from external din, to the +busy streets, where drays went thundering by, and industry manifested +itself in resounding clatter, was a sudden, but not altogether +unwelcome, change to Constance. Without waiting for the manager, who +paused at the rear entrance to impress his final instructions upon a +stolid-looking property-man, she turned quickly into the noisy +thoroughfares. + +On and on her restlessness led her, conscious of the clangor of +vehicles and voices and yet remote from them; past those picturesque +suggestions of the one-time Spanish rulers in which the antiquarian +could detect evidence of remote Oriental infusion; past the silken +seductions of shops, where ladies swarmed and hummed like bees around +the luscious hive; past the idlers' resorts, from whence came the +rat-a-tat of clinking billiard balls and the louder rumble of falling +ten-pins. + +In a window of one of these places, a club with a reputation for +exclusiveness, a young man was seated, newspaper in hand, a cup of +black coffee on a small table before him, and the end of a cigar +smoking on the tray where he had placed it. With a yawn, he had just +thrown aside the paper and was reaching for the thick, dark +beverage--his hand thin and nervous--when, glancing without, he caught +sight of the actress in the crowd. Obeying a sudden impulse, he arose, +picking up his hat which lay on a chair beside him. + +"Yo' order am ready in a moment, Mr. Mauville," said a colored +servant, hurrying toward the land baron as the latter was leaving. + +"I've changed my mind and don't want it," replied the other curtly. + +And sauntering down the steps of the club with ill-concealed +impatience, he turned in the direction the young girl had taken, +keeping her retreating figure in view; now, so near her in the crowded +street, he could almost touch her; then, as they left the devious +ways, more distant, but ever with his eyes bent upon her. He had +almost spoken, when in the throng he approached within arm's length, +but something--he knew not what--restrained him, and a press of people +separated them. Only for a moment, and then he continued the +questionable pleasure of following her. + +Had she turned, she would probably have seen her pursuer, but absorbed +in thought, she continued on her way, unconscious of his presence. On +and on she hurried, until she reached the tranquil outskirts and +lingered before the gate of one of the cemeteries. At the same time +the land baron slackened his footsteps, hesitating whether to advance +or turn back. After a moment's indecision, she entered the cemetery; +her figure, receding in the distance, was becoming more and more +indistinct, when he started forward quickly and also passed through +the gate. + +The annual festival of the dead, following All Saint's day, was being +observed in the burial ground. This commemoration of those who have +departed in the communion--described by Tertullian in the second +century as an "apostolic tradition," so old was the sacrifice!--was +celebrated with much pomp and variety in the Crescent City. In the +vicinity of the cemetery gathered many colored _marchandes_, their +heads and shoulders draped in shawls and fichus of bright, diversified +hues; before them, perambulating booths with baskets of molasses candy +or _pain-patate_. Women, dressed in mourning, bore to the tomb flowers +and plants, trays of images, wreaths, crosses, anchors of dried +immortelles and artificial roses. Some were accompanied by priests and +acolytes with censers, the former intoning the service: + + Fidelium Deus omnium conditor-- + +A solemn peace fell upon the young girl as she entered and she seemed +to leave behind her all disturbing emotions, finding refuge in the +supreme tranquillity of this ancient city of the dead. She was +surrounded by a resigned grief, a sorrow so dignified that it did not +clash with the sweeter influences of nature. The monotonous sound of +the words of the priests harmonized with the scene. The tongue of a +nation that had been resolved into the elements was fitting in this +place, where time and desolation had left their imprint in discolored +marble, inscriptions almost effaced, and clambering vines. + + --Animabus famulorum-- + +To many the words so mournfully intoned brought solace and surcease +from sorrow. The sisters of charity moved among the throng with grave, +pale faces, mere shadows of their earthly selves, as though they had +undergone the first stage of the great metamorphosis which is +promised. To them, who had already buried health, vitality and +passion, was not this chant to the dead, this strange intoning of +words, sweeter than the lullaby crooned by a nurse to a child, more +stirring than the patriotic hymn to a soldier, and fraught with more +fervor than the romantic dream of a lover? + + Ut indulgentiam, quam semper optaverunt-- + +The little orphan children heard and heeded no more than the butterfly +which lighted upon the engraven words, "Dust to dust," and poised +gracefully, as it bathed in the sunshine, stretching its wings in +wantonness of beauty. + + Piis supplicationibus consequantur-- + +Now Constance smiled to see the little ones playing on the steps of a +monument. It was the tomb of a great jurist, a man of dignity during +his mundane existence, his head crammed with those precepts which are +devised for the temporal well-being of that fabric, sometimes termed +society, and again, civilization. The poor waifs, with suppressed +laughter--they dared not give full vent to their merriment with the +black-robed sisters not far away--ran around the steps, unmindful of +the inscription which might have been written by a Johnson, and as +unconscious of unseemly conduct as the insects that hummed in the +grass. + +"Hush!" whispered one of the sisters, as a funeral cortège approached. + +The children, wide-eyed in awe and wonder, desisted in their play. + +"It is an old man who died last night," said a nun in a low voice to +Constance, noticing her look of inquiry. + +The silver crucifix shone fitfully ahead, while the chanting of the +priests, winding in and out after the holy symbol, fell upon the ear. +And the young girl gazed with pity as the remains of the Marquis de +Ligne, her father, were borne by. + + Qui vivis et regnas. Glorificamus te. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AN INCONGRUOUS RÔLE + + +Longer and longer trailed the shadow of a tall tombstone until, as the +sun went down, it merged into the general twilight like a life +lengthening out and out and finally blending in restful darkness. With +that transition came a sudden sense of isolation and loneliness; the +little burial ground seemed the world; the sky, its walls and +ceiling. + +From the neighborhood of the gates had vanished the dusky venders, +trundling their booths and stalls citywards. As abruptly had +disappeared the bearers of flowers and artificial roses with baskets +poised upon their heads, imparting to their figures dignity and +erectness. The sad-eyed nuns had wended their way out of the little +kingdom of the departed, surrounded by the laughing children and +preceded by the priests and acolytes. All the sounds and activities of +the day--the merriment of the little ones, the oblations of the +priests, the greetings of friends--were followed by inertness and +languor. Motionless against the sky spread the branches of the trees, +like lines etched there; still were the clambering vines that clasped +monolith and column. + +But suddenly that death-like lull in nature's animation and unrest was +abruptly broken, and an uproarious vociferation dispelled the +voiceless peace. + + "For Jack ashore's a Croesus, lads, + With a Jill for every Jack--" + +sang a hoarse voice as its owner came staggering along one of the +walks of the cemetery; for all his song, no blue-water sailor-man, but +a boisterous denizen of the great river, a raftsman or a keel-boatman, +who had somehow found himself in the burial ground and now was beating +aimlessly about. How this rollicking waif of the grog shop came to +wander so far from the convivial haunts of his kind and to choose this +spot for a ramble, can only be explained by the vagaries of +inebriety. + + "With a Jill in your wake, + A fair port you'll make--" + +he continued, when his eye fell upon the figure of a woman, some +distance ahead, and fairly discernible in the gathering twilight. +Immediately the song ceased and he steadied himself, gazing +incredulously after the form that had attracted his attention. + +"Hello!" he said. "Avast, my dear!" he called out. + +Echoing in that still place, his harsh tones produced a startling +effect, and the figure before him moved faster and faster, casting a +glance behind her at the man from the river, who with snatches of +song, started in uncertain but determined pursuit. As the heavy +footsteps sounded nearer, she increased her pace, with eyes bent upon +the distant gate; darker seemed to grow the way; more menacing the +shadows outstretched across the path. Louder crunched the boots on the +shell walk; more audible became the words of the song that flowed from +his lips, when the sound of a sudden and violent altercation replaced +the hoarse-toned cadence, an altercation that was of brief duration, +characterized by longshoreman oaths, and followed by silence; and then +a figure, not that of the tuneful waterman, sprang to the side of the +startled girl. + +"Miss Carew!" exclaimed a well-remembered voice. + +Bewildered, breathing quickly, she gazed from Edward Mauville, who +thus unexpectedly accosted her, to the prostrate form, lying +motionless on the road. The rude awakening from her day-dream in the +hush of that peaceful place, and the surprising sequence had dazed her +senses, and, for the moment, it seemed something tragic must have +happened. + +"Is he dead?" she asked quickly, unable to withdraw her glance from +the immovable figure, stretched out in the dim light on the path. + +"No fear!" said Mauville, quietly, almost thoughtfully, although his +eyes were yet bright from the encounter. "You can't kill his kind," he +added, contemptuously. "Brutes from coal barges, or raftsmen from the +head waters! He struck against a stone when he fell, and what with +that, and the liquor in him, will rest there awhile. He'll come to +without remembering what has happened." + +Turning moodily, the land baron walked slowly down the road, away from +the gate; she thought he was about to leave her, when he paused, as +though looking for something, stooped to the ground, and returned, +holding out a garment. + +"You dropped your wrap, Miss Carew," he said, awkwardly. "The night is +cold and you will need it." She offered no resistance when he placed +it over her shoulders; indeed, seemed unconscious of the attention. + +"Don't you think we had better go?" he went on. "It won't hurt +him"--indicating the motionless body--"to stay here--the brute!" + +But as he spoke, with some constraint, her eyes, full of doubts, met +his, and he felt a flush mantle his face. The incongruity of his +position appealed forcibly to him. Had he not been watching and +following her himself? Seeing her helpless, alone, in the silent spot, +where she had unconsciously lingered too long, had he not been almost +on the point of addressing her? Moved by vague desires, had he not +already started impetuously toward her, when the man from the river +had come rollicking along and insinuated himself after his fashion in +the other's rôle? + +And at the sight--the fleeing girl, the drunken, profane waterman!--how +his heart had leaped and his body had become steel for the encounter; +an excess of vigor for a paltry task! Jack, as he called himself, might +have been a fighting-man earlier in the day, but now he had gone down +like straw. When the excitement of this brief collision was over, +however, the land baron found his position as unexpected as puzzling. + +As these thoughts swiftly crossed his mind, he could not forbear a +bitter laugh, and she, walking more quickly toward the gate, regarded +him with inquiry, not perhaps unmingled with apprehension. A picture +of events, gone by, arose before her like a menacing shadow over the +present. He interpreted her glance for what it meant, and angry that +she doubted him, angry with himself, said roughly: + +"Oh, you haven't anything to fear!" + +Her answering look was so gentle, so sad, an unwonted feeling of +compunction seized him; he repented of his harshness, and added less +brusquely: + +"Why did you remain so late?" + +"I did not realize how late it had become." + +"Your thoughts must have been very absorbing!" he exclaimed quickly, +his brow once more overcast. + +Not difficult was it for him to surmise upon whom her mind had been +bent, and involuntarily his jaw set disagreeably, while he looked at +her resentfully. In that light he could but dimly discern her face. +Her bonnet had fallen from her head; her eyes were bent before her, as +though striving to penetrate the gathering darkness. With his sudden +spell of jealousy came the temptation to clasp her in his arms in that +silent, isolated place, but the figure of the sailor came between him +and the desire, while pride, the heritage of the gentleman, fought +down the longing. This self-conquest was not accomplished, however, +without a sacrifice of temper, for after a pause, he observed: + +"There is no accounting for a woman's taste!" + +She did not controvert this statement, but the start she gave told him +the shaft had sped home. + +"An outlaw! An outcast!" exclaimed the patroon, stung beyond endurance +by his thoughts. + +Still no reply; only more hurried footsteps! Around them sounded a +gentle rustling; a lizard scrambled out of their path through the +crackling leaves; a bat, or some other winged creature, suddenly +whirred before them and vanished. They had now approached the gate, +through which they passed and found themselves on the road leading +directly to the city, whose lights had already begun to twinkle in the +dusk. + +The cheering rumble of a carriage and the aspect of the not +far-distant town quickened her spirits and imparted elasticity to her +footsteps. Upon the land baron they produced an opposite effect, for +he was obviously reluctant to abandon the interview, however +unsatisfactory it might be. There was nothing to say, and yet he was +loath to leave her; there was nothing to accomplish, and yet he wished +to remain with her. For this reason, as they drew near the city, his +mood became darker, like the night around them. Instinctively, she +felt the turbulent passions stirring in his bosom; his sudden silence, +his dogged footsteps reawakened her misgivings. Furtively she regarded +him, but his eyes were fixed straight before him on the soft luster +above the city, the reflection of the lights, and she knew and +mistrusted his thoughts. Although she found his silence more menacing +than his words, she could think of nothing to say to break the spell, +and so they continued to walk mutely side by side. An observer, seeing +them beneath the cypress, a lovers' promenade, with its soft, +enfolding shadows, would have taken them for a well-matched couple, +who had no need for language. + +But when they had emerged from that romantic lane and entered the +city, the land baron breathed more freely. She was now surrounded by +movement and din; the seclusion of the country gave way to the stir of +the city; she was no longer dependent on his good offices; his rôle of +protector had ended when they left the cypress walk behind them. + +His brow cleared; he glanced at her with ill-concealed admiration; he +noticed with secret pride the attention she attracted from passers-by, +the sidelong looks of approval that followed her through the busy +streets. The land baron expanded into his old self; he strode at her +side, gratified by the scrutiny she invited; assurance radiated from +his eyes like some magnetic heat; he played at possession wilfully, +perversely. "Why not," whispered Hope. "A woman's mind is shifting +ever. Her fancy--a breath! The other is gone. Why--" + +"It was not accident my being in the cemetery, Miss Carew," said +Mauville, suddenly covering her with his glance. Meeting her look of +surprise unflinchingly, he continued: "I followed you there; through +the streets, into the country! My seeing you first was chance; my +presence in the burial ground the result of that chance. The +inevitable result!" he repeated softly. "As inevitable as life! Life; +what is it? Influences which control us; forces which bind us! It is +you, or all; you or nothing!" + +She did not reply; his voice, vibrating with feeling, touched no +answering chord. Nevertheless, a new, inexplicable wave of sorrow +moved her. It might be he had cared for her as sincerely as it was +possible for his wayward heart to care for any one. Perhaps time would +yet soften his faults, and temper his rashness. With that shade of +sorrow for him there came compassion as well; compassion that +overlooked the past and dwelt on the future. + +She raised her steady eyes. "Why should it be 'I or nothing,' as you +put it?" she finally answered slowly. "Influences may control us in a +measure, but we may also strive for something. We can always strive." + +"For what? For what we don't want? That's the philosophy of your +moralists, Miss Carew," he exclaimed. "That's your modern ethics of +duty. Playing tricks with happiness! The game isn't worth the candle. +Or, if you believe in striving," he added, half resentfully, half +imploringly, "strive to care for me but a little. But a little!" he +said again. "I who once wanted all, and would have nothing but all, am +content to ask, to plead, for but a little." + +"I see no reason," she replied, wearily, yet not unkindly, "why we +should not be friends." + +"Friends!" he answered, bitterly. "I do not beg for a loaf, but +a crumb. Yet you refuse me that! I will wait! Only a word of +encouragement! Will you not give it?" + +She turned and looked into his eyes, and, before she spoke, he knew +what her answer would be. + +"How can I?" she said, simply. "Why should I promise something I can +never fulfil?" + +He held her glance as though loath to have it leave him. + +"May I see you again?" he asked, abruptly. + +She shook her head. His gaze fell, seeing no softening in her clear +look. + +"You are well named," he repeated, more to himself than to her. +"Constance! You are constant in your dislikes as well as your likes." + +"I have no dislike for you," she replied. "It seems to have been left +behind me somewhere." + +"Only indifference, then!" he said, dully. + +"No; not indifference!" + +"You do care what--may become of me?" + +"You should do so much--be so much in the world," she answered, +thoughtfully. + +"_Sans peur et sans reproche!_" he cried, half-amused, half-cheerlessly. +"What a pity I met you--too late!" + +They were now at the broad entrance of the brilliantly-lighted hotel. +Several loungers, smoking their after-dinner cigars, gazed at the +couple curiously. + +"Mauville's a lucky dog," said one. + +"Yes; he was born with a silver spoon," replied the person addressed. + +As he passed through the envious throng, the land baron had regained +his self-command, although his face was marked with an unusual pallor. +In his mind one thought was paramount--that the walk begun at the +burial-ground was drawing to an end; their last walk; the finale of +all between them! Yet he could call to mind nothing further to say. +His story had been told; the conclusion reached. She, too, had spoken, +and he knew she would never speak differently. Bewildered and unable +to adjust his new and strange feelings, it dawned upon him he had +never understood himself and her; that he had never really known what +love was, and he stood abashed, confronted by his own ignorance. +Passion, caprice, fancy, he had seen depth in their shallows, but now +looked down and discerned the pebbly bottom. All this and much more +surged through his brain as he made his way through the crowd, and, +entering the corridor of the hotel, took formal leave of the young +girl at the stairway. + +"Good-night, Miss Carew," he said, gravely. + +"Good-night," she replied. And then, on the steps, she turned and +looked down at him, extending her hand: "Thank you!" + +That half-timid, low "thank you!" he knew was all he would ever +receive from her. He hardly felt the hand-clasp; he was hardly +conscious when she turned away. A heavier hand fell upon his +shoulder. + +"You sly dog!" said a thick voice. "Well, a judge of a good horse is a +judge of a handsome woman! We're making up a few bets on the horses +to-morrow. Colonel Ogelby will ride Dolly D, and I'm to ride my +Gladiator. It'll be a gentlemen's race." + +"Aren't we gentlemen?" growled a professional turfsman. + +"Gad! it's the first time I ever heard a jockey pretend to be one!" +chuckled the first speaker. "What do you say, Mauville?" + +"What do I say?" repeated the land baron, striving to collect his +thoughts. "What--why, I'll make it an even thousand, if you ride your +own horse, you'll--" + +"Win?" interrupted the proud owner. + +"No; fall off before he's at the second quarter!" + +"Done!" said the man, immediately. + +"Huzza!" shouted the crowd. + +"That's the way they bet on a gentlemen's race!" jeered the gleeful +jockey. + +"Drinks on Gladiator!" exclaimed some one. And as no southern +gentleman was ever known to refuse to drink to a horse or a woman, the +party carried the discussion to the bar-room. + + + + +BOOK III + +THE FINAL CUE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD + + +"In the will of the Marquis de Ligne, probated yesterday, all of the +property, real and personal, is left to his daughter, Constance," +wrote Straws in his paper shortly after the passing of the French +nobleman. "The document states this disposition of property is made as +'an act of atonement and justice to my daughter, whose mother I +deserted, taking advantage of the French law to annul my marriage in +England.' The legitimacy of the birth of this, his only child, is +thereupon fully acknowledged by the marquis after a lapse of many +years and long after the heretofore unrecognized wife had died, +deserted and forgotten. Thrown on her own resources, the young child, +with no other friend than Manager Barnes, battled with the world; now +playing in taverns or barns, like the players of interludes, the +strollers of old, or 'vagabonds', as the great and mighty Junius, from +his lofty plane, termed them. The story of that period of 'vagrant' +life adds one more chapter to the annals of strolling players which +already include such names as Kemble, Siddons and Kean. + +"From the Junius category to a public favorite of New Orleans has been +no slight transition, and now, to appear in the rôle of daughter of a +marquis and heiress to a considerable estate--truly man--and +woman--play many parts in this brief span called life! But in making +her sole heir the marquis specifies a condition which will bring +regrets to many of the admirers of the actress. He robs her of her +birthright from her mother. The will stipulates that the recipient +give up her profession, not because it is other than a noble one, but +'that she may the better devote herself to the duties of her new +position and by her beneficence and charity remove the stain left upon +an honored name by my second wife, the Duchesse D'Argens'." + +The marquis' reference to "charity" and "beneficence" was in such +ill-accord with his character that it might be suspected an adroit +attorney, in drawing up the document, had surreptitiously inserted it. +His proud allusion to his honored name and slurring suggestion of the +taint put upon it by his second wife demonstrated the marquis was not +above the foibles of his kind, overlooking his own light conduct and +dwelling on that of his noble helpmate. It was the final taunt, and, +as the lady had long since been laid in God's Acre, where there is +only silence divine, it received no answer, and the world was welcome +to digest and gorge it and make the most of it. + +But although the marquis and his lady had no further interest in +subsequent events, growing out of their brief sojourn on earth, the +contents of the will afforded a theme of gossip for the living and +molded the affairs of one in new shape and manner. On the same day +this public exposition appeared, Barnes and the young actress were +seated in the law office of Marks and Culver, a room overlooking a +court-yard, brightened by statues and urns of flowers. A plaster bust +of Justinian gazed benignly through the window at a fountain; a steel +engraving of Jeremy Bentham watched the butterflies, and Hobbes and +John Austin, austere in portraiture, frowned darkly down upon the +flowering garden. While the manager and Constance waited for the +attorney to appear, they were discussing, not for the first time, the +proviso of the will to which Straws had regretfully alluded. + +"Yes," said Barnes, folding the newspaper which contained Straws' +article and placing it in his pocket; "you should certainly give up +the stage. We must think of the disappointments, the possible failure, +the slender reward. There was your mother--such an actress!--yet +toward the last the people flocked to a younger rival. I have often +thought anxiously of your future, for I am old--yes, there is no +denying it!--and any day I may leave you, dependent solely upon +yourself." + +"Do not speak like that," she answered, tenderly. "We shall be +together many, many years." + +"Always, if I had my way," he returned, heartily. + +"But with this legacy you are superior to the fickle public. In fact, +you are now a part of the capricious public, my dear," he added in a +jocular tone, "and may applaud the 'heavy father,' myself, or prattle +about prevailing styles while the buskined tragedian is strutting +below your box. Why turn to a blind bargain? Fame is a jade, only +caught after our illusions are gone and she seems not half so sweet as +when pursuing her in our dreams!" + +But as he spoke, with forced lightness, beneath which, however, the +young girl could readily detect the vein of anxiety and regret, she +was regarding him with the clear eyes of affection. His face, seamed +with many lines and bearing the deeply engraved handwriting of time, +spoke plainly of declining years; every lineament was eloquent with +vicissitudes endured; and as she discerningly read that varied past of +which her own brief career had been a part, there entered her mind a +brighter picture of a tranquil life for him at last, where in old age +he could exchange uncertainty and activity for security and rest. How +could she refuse to do as he desired? How often since fate had wrought +this change in her life had she asked herself the question? + +Her work, it is true, had grown dearer to her than ever; of late she +had thrown herself into her task with an ardor and earnestness lifting +each portrayal to a higher plane. Is it that only with sorrow comes +the fulness of art; that its golden gates are never swung entirely +open to the soul bearing no burden? + +Closed to ruder buffetings, is it only to the sesame of a sad voice +those portals spring magically back? But for his sake she must needs +pause on the threshold of attainment, and stifle that ambition which +of itself precluded consideration of a calm, uneventful existence. She +was young and full of courage, but the pathos of his years smote her +heart; something inexplicable had awakened her fears for him; she +believed him far from well of late, although he laughed at her +apprehensions and protested he had never been better in his life. + +Now, reading the anxiety in his face as he watched her, she smiled +reassuringly, her glance, full of love, meeting his. + +"Everything shall be as you wish," she said, softly. "You know what is +best!" + +The manager's face lighted perceptibly, but before he could answer, +the door opened, and Culver, the attorney, entered. With ruddy +countenance and youthful bearing, in antithesis to the hair, +silvered with white, he was one of those southern gentlemen who grow +old gracefully. The law was his taskmaster; he practised from a sense +of duty, but ever held that those who rushed to court were likely +to repeat the experience of Voltaire, who had twice been ruined: +once when he lost a law suit; the second time, when he won one! +Nevertheless, people persisted in coming to Culver wantonly welcoming +unknown ills. + +"Well, Miss Carew," he now exclaimed, after warmly greeting his +visitors, "have you disburdened yourself of prejudice against this +estate? Wealth may be a little hardship at first, but soon you won't +mind it." + +"Not a bit!" spoke up Barnes. "It's as easy to get used to as--poverty, +and we've had plenty of that!" + +"You know the other condition?" she said, half-defiantly, half-sadly. +"You are to be with me always." + +"How can you teach an old dog new tricks?" protested Barnes. "How can +you make a fine man about town out of a 'heavy father?'" + +"The 'heavy father' is my father. I never knew any other. I am glad I +never did." + +"Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed scoffingly, but pleased nevertheless. + +"You can't put me off that way," she said, decisively, with a sudden +flash in her eyes he knew too well to cross. "Either you leave the +stage, too, or--" + +"Of course, my dear, of course--" + +"Then it's all settled you will accept the encumbrance to which you +have fallen heir," resumed Culver. "Even if there had been no will in +your favor, the State of Louisiana follows the French law, and the +testator can under no circumstances alienate more than half his +property, if he leave issue or descendants. Had the old will remained, +its provisions could not have been legally carried out." + +"The old will?" said Barnes. "Then there was another will?" + +"One made before he was aware of your existence, Miss Carew, in favor +of his ward, Ernest Saint-Prosper." + +"Ernest Saint-Prosper!" + +Constance's cheeks flamed crimson, and her quick start of surprise did +not escape the observant lawyer. Barnes, too, looked amazed over this +unexpected intelligence. + +"Saint-Prosper was the marquis' ward?" he cried. + +The attorney transferred his gaze from the expressive features of his +fair client to the open countenance of the manager. "Yes," he said. + +"And would have inherited this property but for Constance?" + +"Exactly! But you knew him, Mr. Barnes?" + +"He was an occupant of the chariot, sir," replied the manager, with +some feeling. "We met in the Shadengo Valley; the company was in sore +straits, and--and--to make a long story short!--he joined our band and +traversed the continent with us. And so he was the marquis' ward! It +seems almost incredible!" + +"Yes," affirmed Culver; "when General Saint-Prosper, his father, died, +Ernest Saint-Prosper, who was then but a boy, became the marquis' ward +and a member of his household." + +"Well, well, how things do come about!" ruminated Barnes. "To think he +should have been the prospective heir, and Constance, the real one!" + +"Where is he now?" asked the attorney, thoughtfully. + +"He has gone to Mexico; enlisted! But how do you know he--" + +"Had expectations? The marquis told me about a quarrel they had had; +he was a staunch imperialist; the young man as firm a republican! What +would be the natural outcome? They parted in bitter anger." + +"And then the marquis made him his heir?" exclaimed the manager, +incredulously. "How do you reconcile that?" + +The attorney smiled. "Through the oddity of my client! 'Draw up my +will,' said the marquis to me one day, 'leaving all my property to +this republican young dog. That will cut off the distant relatives who +made the sign of the cross behind my back as though I were the evil +one. They expect it all; he expects nothing! It will be a rare joke. I +leave them my affection--and the privilege of having masses said for +my soul.' The marquis was always of a satirical temperament." + +"So it seems," commented the manager. "But he changed his mind and his +will again?" + +"After he met Miss Carew." + +"Met me!" exclaimed Constance, aroused from a maze of reflection. + +"Near the cathedral! He walked and talked with you." + +"That poor old man--" + +"And then came here, acknowledged you as his daughter, and drew up the +final document." + +"That accounts for a call I had from him!" cried Barnes, telling the +story of the marquis' visit. "Strange, I did not suspect something of +the truth at the time," he concluded, "for his manner was certainly +unusual." + +A perplexed light shone in the girl's eyes; she clasped and unclasped +her hands quickly, turning to the lawyer. + +"Their quarrel was only a political difference?" she asked at length. + +"Yes," said the other, slowly. "Saint-Prosper refused to support the +fugitive king. Throughout the parliamentary government, the +restoration under Louis XVIII, and the reign of King Charles X, the +marquis had ever a devout faith in the divine right of monarchs. He +annulled his marriage in England with your mother to marry the +Duchesse D'Argens, a relative of the royal princess. But Charles +abdicated and the duchesse died. All this, however, is painful to you, +Miss Carew?" + +"Only such as relates to my mother," she replied in a clear tone. "I +suppose I should feel grateful for this fortune, but I am afraid I do +not. Please go on." + +Culver leaned back in his chair, his glance bent upon a discolored +statue of Psyche in the court-yard. "Had the marquis attended to his +garden, like Candide, or your humble servant, and eschewed the +company of kings he might have been as care-free as he was wretched. +His monarchs were knocked down like nine-pins. Louis XVIII was a man +of straw; Charles X, a feather-top, and Louis Philippe, a toy ruler. +The marquis' domestic life was as unblest as his political career. The +frail duchesse left him a progeny of scandals. These, the only +offspring of the iniquitous dame, were piquantly dressed in the +journals for public parade. Fancy, then, his delight in disinheriting +his wife's relatives, and leaving you, his daughter, his fortune and +his name!" + +"His name?" she repeated, sadly. With averted face she watched the +fountain in the garden. "If he had given it to my mother," she +continued, "but now--I do not care for it. Her name is all I want." +Her voice trembled and she exclaimed passionately: "I should rather +Mr. Saint-Prosper would keep the property and I--my work! After +denying my mother and deserting her, how can I accept anything from +him?" + +"Under the new will," said Culver, "the estate does not revert to Mr. +Saint-Prosper in any event. But you might divide it with him?" he +added, suddenly. + +"How could I do that?" she asked, without looking up. + +"Marry him!" laughed the attorney. + +But the jest met with scant response, his fair client remaining +motionless as a statue, while Barnes gazed at her furtively. Culver's +smile gradually faded; uncertain how to proceed, realizing his humor +had somehow miscarried, he was not sorry when the manager arose, +saying: + +"Well, my dear, it is time we were at the theater." + +"Won't you accept this nosegay from my garden, Miss Carew?" urged the +lawyer in a propitiatory tone as they were leaving. + +And the attorney not only accompanied them to the door, but +down-stairs to the street, where he stood for a moment watching them +drive down the thoroughfare. Then he slowly returned, breathing +heavily--invidious contradiction of his youthful assumption!--and +shaking his head, as he mounted to his room. + +"Culver, you certainly put your foot in it that time!" he muttered. +"How she froze at my suggestion! Has there been some passage of arms +between them? Apparently! But here am I, pondering over romances with +all this legal business staring me in the face!" His glance swept a +chaos of declarations, bills, affidavits and claims. "Confound the +musty old courthouse and the bustling Yankee lawyers who set such a +disturbing pace! There is no longer gentlemanly leisure in New +Orleans." + +He seated himself with a sigh before a neglected brief. In the +distance the towers of the cathedral could be seen, reminding the +attorney of the adjacent halls of justice in the scraggy-looking +square, with its turmoil, its beggars, and apple women in the lobbies; +its ancient, offensive smell, its rickety stairs, its labyrinth of +passages and its Babel of tongues. Above him, however, the plaster +bust of Justinian, out of those blank, sightless eyes, continued the +contemplation of the garden as though turning from the complex +jurisprudence of the ancients and moderns to the simple existence of +butterflies and flowers. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ONLY A SHADOW + + +There is an aphorism to the effect that one can not spend and have; +also, a saying about the whirlwind, both of which in time came home to +the land baron. For several generations the Mauville family, bearing +one of the proudest names in Louisiana, had held marked prestige under +Spanish and French rule, while extensive plantations indicated the +commercial ascendency of the patroon's ancestors. The thrift of his +forefathers, however, passed lightly over Edward Mauville. Sent to +Paris by his mother, a widow, who could deny him nothing, in the +course of a few years he had squandered two plantations and several +hundred negroes. Her death placed him in undisputed possession of the +residue of the estate, when finding the exacting details of commerce +irksome, in a moment of weakness, he was induced to dispose of some of +his possessions to Yankee speculators who had come in with the flood +of northern energy. Most of the money thus realized he placed in loose +investments, while the remainder gradually disappeared in indulging +his pleasures. + +At this critical stage in his fortunes--or misfortunes--the patroon's +legacy had seemed timely, and his trip to the North followed. But from +a swarm of creditors, to a nest of anti-renters, was out of the +frying-pan into the fire, hastening his return to the Crescent City, +where he was soon forced to make an assignment of the remaining +property. A score of hungry lawyers hovered around the sinking estate, +greedily jealous lest some one of their number should batten too +gluttonously at this general collation. It was the one topic of +interest in the musty, dusty courthouse until the end appeared with +the following announcement in the local papers: + +"_Annonce! Vente importante de Nègres!_ Mauville estate in bankruptcy!" + +And thereafter were specified the different lots of negroes to be +sold. + +Coincident with these disasters came news from the North regarding +his supposedly immense interests in New York State. A constitutional +convention had abolished all feudal tenures and freed the fields +from baronial burdens. At a breath--like a house of cards--the +northern heritage was swept away and about all that remained of +the principality was the worthless ancient deed itself, representing +one of the largest colonial grants. + +But even the sale of the negroes and his other merchandise and +property failed to satisfy his clamorous creditors or to pay his +gambling debts. Those obligations at cards it was necessary to meet, +so he moved out of his bachelor apartments, turned over his expensive +furnishings and bric-à-brac to the gamblers and snapped his fingers at +the over-anxious constables and lawyers. + +As time went by evidence of his reverses insidiously crept into his +personal appearance. He who had been the leader now clung to the +tail-ends of style, and it was a novel sensation when one day he +noticed a friend scrutinizing his garments much in the same +critical manner that he had himself erstwhile affected. This +glance rested casually on the hat; strayed carelessly to the +waistcoat; wandered absently to the trousers, down one leg and up +the other; superciliously jumped over the waistcoat and paused the +infinitesimal part of a second on the necktie. Mauville learned in +that moment how the eye may wither and humble, without giving any +ostensible reason for offense. The attitude of this mincing fribble, +as he danced twittingly away, was the first intimation Mauville had +received that he would soon be relegated to the ranks of gay +adventurers thronging the city. He who had watched his estates +vanish with an unruffled countenance now became disconcerted over +the width of his trousers and the shape of his hat. + +His new home was in the house of an aged quadroon who had been a +servant in his family many years ago--how long no one seemed to +remember!--and who had been his nurse before she had received her +freedom. She enjoyed the distinction of being feared in the +neighborhood; her fetishes had a power no other witch's possessed, and +many of the negroes would have done anything to have possessed these +infallible charms, save crossing her threshold to get them. Mauville, +when he found fortune slipping away from him and ruin staring him in +the face, had been glad to transfer his abode to this unhallowed +place; going into hiding, as it were, until the storm should blow by, +when he expected to emerge, confident as ever. + +But inaction soon chafed his restless nature, and drove him forth in +spite of himself from the streets in that quarter of the town where +the roofs of various-colored houses formed strange geometrical figures +and the windows were bright with flaring head-dresses, beneath which +looked out curious visages of ebony. Returning one day from such a +peregrination, he determined to end a routine of existence so +humiliating to his pride. + +Pausing before a doorway, the land baron looked this way and that, and +seeing only the rotating eyes of a pickaninny fastened upon him, +hurried through the entrance. Hanging upon the walls were red and +green pods and bunches of dried herbs of unquestionable virtue +belonging to the old crone's pharmacopoeia. Mauville slowly ascended +the dark stairs and reached his retreat, a small apartment, with +furniture of cane-work and floor covered with sea-grass; the ceiling +low and the windows narrow, opening upon a miniature balcony that +offered space for one and no more. + +"Is dat yo', honey?" said an adoring voice on the landing. + +"Yes, auntie," replied the land baron, as an old crone emerged from an +ill-lighted recess and stood before him. + +Now the light from the doorway fell upon her, and surely five score +years were written on her curiously wrinkled face--five score, or +more, for even the negroes did not profess to know how old she was. +Her bent figure, watery eyes and high shrill voice bore additional +testimony to her age. + +"Yo's home earlier dan usual, dearie?" she resumed. "But yo' supper's +all ready. Sit down here." + +"I'm not hungry, auntie," he returned. + +"Not hungry, honey?" she cried, laughing shrilly. "Yo' wait!" And she +disappeared into an adjoining room, soon to emerge with a steaming +platter, which she set on the snow-white cover of the little table. +Removing the lid from the dish, she hobbled back a few steps to regard +her guest with triumphant expectation. "Dat make yo' eat." + +"What a cook you are, mammy!" he said, lightly. "You would give a +longing tooth to satiety." + +"De debil blow de fire," she answered, chuckling. + +"Then the devil is a _chef de cuisine_. This sauce is bewitching." + +"Yo' like it?" Delighted. + +"Tis a spell in itself. Confess, mammy, Old Nick mixed it?" + +"No, he only blow de fire," she reiterated, with a grin. + +"Any one been to see me, mammy?" + +"Only dat Mexican gemmen; dat gemmen been here befo' who take yo' +message about de troops; when dey go from New Orleans; how many dey +am!" + +"You know that, auntie?" he asked quickly. "You know that I--" + +"Yes, honey," she answered, shaking her head. "Yo' be berry careful, +Mar's'r Edward." + +"What did he want?" said the land baron, quickly. + +"He gib me dis." And the crone handed her visitor a slip of paper on +which a few words were written. "What dat mean?" + +"It means I am going away, mammy," pushing back his chair. + +"Gwine away!" she repeated. "When's yo' gwine?" + +"To-morrow; perhaps to-night even; down the river, auntie!" Rising and +surveying himself in a mirror. + +"How long yo' gwine away foh?" + +"Perhaps forever, auntie!" + +"Not foh good, Mar's'r Edward? Not foh good?" He nodded and she broke +into loud wailings. "Yo's gwine and yo' old mammy'll see yo' no +moh--no moh! I knows why yo's gwine, Mar's'r Edward. I's heard yo' +talkin' about her in yo' sleep. But yo' stay and yo' mammy has a +love-charm foh yo'; den she's yo's, foh suah." + +This offer, coming from one of her uncanny reputation, would have been +accepted with implicit faith by most of the dwellers in that locality, +superstitious to the last degree, but Mauville laughed carelessly. + +"Pshaw, mammy! Do you think I would fly from a woman? Do I look as +though I needed a charm?" + +"No; she mus' worship yo'!" cried the infatuated crone. + +Then a change passed over her puckered face and she lifted her arms +despairingly, rocking her body to and fro, while she mumbled +unintelligible words which would have caused the negroes to draw away +from her with awe, for the spell was on her. But the land baron only +regarded her carelessly as she muttered something pertaining to spells +and omens. + +"Come, auntie," he said impatiently at last, "you know I don't believe +in this tom-foolery." + +She turned to him vehemently. "Don't go whar yo' thinkin' ob gwine, +honey," she implored. "Yo'll nebber come back, foh suah--foh suah! I +see yo' lyin' dar, honey, in de dark valley--whar de mists am +risin'--and I hears a bugle soundin'--and de tramp of horses. Dey am +all gone, honey--and de mists come back--but yo' am dar--lying dar--de +mountains around yo'--yo' am dar fo'ebber and ebber and--" Here she +broke into wild sobbing and moaning, tossing her white hair with her +trembling withered arms, a moving picture of an inspired dusky sibyl. +Mauville shrugged his shoulders. + +"We're losing time, mammy," he exclaimed. "Stop this nonsense and go +pack a few things for me. I have some letters to write." + +The old woman reluctantly obeyed, and the land baron penned a somewhat +lengthy epistle to his one-time master in Paris, the Abbé Moneau, +whose disapproval of the Anglo-Saxon encroachments--witness +Louisiana!--and zeal for the colonization of the Latin races are +matters of history. Having completed his epistle, the land baron +placed it in the old crone's hand to mail with: "If that man calls +again, tell him I'll meet him to-night," and, leaving the room, shot +through the doorway, once more rapidly walking down the shabby +thoroughfare. The aged negro woman stumbled out upon the balcony and +gazed after the departing figure still moaning softly to herself and +shaking her head in anguish. + +"Fo'ebber and ebber," she repeated in a wailing tone. Below a colored +boy gazed at her in wonderment. + +"What debblement am she up to now?" he said to a girl seated in a +doorway. "When de old witch am like dat--" + +"Come in dar, yo' black imp!" And a vigorous arm pulled the lad +abruptly through the opening. "Ef she sees yo', she can strike yo' +dead, foh suah!" + +The crone could no longer distinguish Mauville--her eyes were nearly +sightless--but she continued to look in the direction he had taken, +sobbing as before: "Fo'ebber and ebber! Fo'ebber and ebber!" + +Once more upon a fashionable thoroughfare, the land baron's footstep +relaxed and he relapsed into his languorous, indolent air. The +shadows of twilight were darkening the streets and a Caribbee-scented +breeze was wafted from the gulf across the city. It swept through +the broad avenues and narrow highways, and sighed among the trees of +the old garden. Seating himself absently on one of the public +benches, Mauville removed his hat to allow the cool air to fan his +brow. Presently he moved on; up Canal Street, where the long rows of +gas lights now gleamed through the foliage; thence into a side +thoroughfare, as dark as the other street was bright, pausing before +a doorway, illumined by a single yellow flame that flickered in +the draft and threatened to leave the entrance in total obscurity. +Mounting two flights of stairs, no better lighted than the hall +below, the land baron reached a doorway, where he paused and +knocked. In answer to his summons a slide was quickly slipped back, +and through the aperture floated an alcoholic breath. + +"Who is it?" + +"A Knight of the Golden Square," said the caller, impatiently. "Open +the door." + +The man obeyed and the land baron was admitted to the hall of an +organization which had its inception in Texas; a society not unlike +the Secret Session Legation of the Civil War, having for its object +the overthrow of the government, the carrying of mails and despatches +and other like business. Here was gathered a choice aggregation of +Mexican sympathizers, a conclave hostile to the North. Composed of +many nationalities, the polished continental adventurer rubbed +shoulders with the Spanish politicians; the swarthy agents of Santa +Anna brushed against the secret enemies of northern aggression. A +small bar, unpretentious but convenient, occupied a portion of one end +of the room, and a brisk manipulator of juleps presided over this +popular corner. + +Half-disdainfully, the land baron mingled with the heterogeneous +assembly; half-ironically, his eye swept the group at the bar--the +paid spy, the needy black-sheep; the patriot, the swashbuckler; men +with and without a career. As Mauville stepped forward, a quiet, +dark-looking man, obviously a Mexican, not without a certain +distinguished carriage, immediately approached the newcomer. + +"You have come? Good!" he said, and drew Mauville aside. They +conversed in low tones, occasionally glancing about them at the +others. + +In the hall below the rhythm of a waltz now made itself heard, and the +land baron, having received certain papers which committed him to a +hazardous service, prepared to leave. + +"Here's luck!" said a man on his left, raising his glass. At these +words several of the company turned. + +"Send it south!" roared a Texan Furioso, emptying his tumbler. + +"Send it south!" echoed the others, and "south" the fragrant juleps +were "sent," as the land baron unceremoniously tore himself away from +the group. + +"They say the floods are rising," said the man with whom Mauville had +conferred, at the door. + +"All the better if the river's running wild!" answered the other. "It +will be easier running the guard." + +"Yes," returned the Mexican, extending his hand, with a smile; "in +this case, there's safety in danger!" + +"That's reassuring!" replied the land baron, lightly, as he descended +the stairs. + +On reaching the floor below he was afforded a view through an open +door into a large room, lighted with many lamps, where a quadroon +dance, or "society ball," was in progress. After a moment's hesitation +he entered and stood in the glare, watching the waltzers. Around +the wall were dusky chaperons, guarding their charges with the +watchfulness of old dowagers protecting their daughters from the +advances of younger sons. Soft eyes flashed invitingly, graceful +figures passed, and the revelry momentarily attracted Mauville, as +he followed the movements of the waltzers and heard the strains of +music. Impulsively he approached a young woman whose complexion was +as light as his own and asked her to dance. The next moment they +were gliding to the dreamy rhythm around the room. + +By a fatal trick of imagination, his thoughts wandered to the +dark-haired girl he had met in the Shadengo Valley. If this now were +she, the partner he had so unceremoniously summoned to his side. How +light were her feet; what poetry of motion was her dancing; what +pleasure the abandonment to which she had resigned herself! +Involuntarily he clasped more tightly the slender waist, and the dark +eyes, moved by that palpable caress, looked not unkindly into his own. +But at the glance he experienced a strange repulsion and started, as +if awakening from a fevered sleep, abruptly stopping in the dance, his +arm falling to his side. The girl looked at him half-shyly, +half-boldly, and the very beauty of her eyes--the deep, lustrous orbs +of a quadroon--smote him mockingly. He felt as though some light he +sought shone far beyond his ken; a light he saw, but could never +reach; ever before him, but always receding. + +"Monsieur is tired?" said the girl, in a puzzled tone. + +"Yes," he answered bluntly, leading her to a seat. "Good-night." + +"Good-night," she replied, following his retreating figure with +something like regret. + +The evening bells, distinct and mysterious, were sounding as he +emerged from New Orleans' _Mabille_, and their crystalline tones, +rising and falling on the solemn night, brought to mind his boyhood. +Pictures long forgotten passed before him, as his footsteps led him +far from the brightly-lighted streets to a sequestered thoroughfare +that lay peacefully on the confines of the busy city; a spot inviting +rest from the turmoil yonder and in accord with the melancholy +vibrations of the bells. He stood, unseen in the shadow of great +trees, before a low rambling mansion; not so remote but that the +perfume from the garden was wafted to him over the hedge. + +"A troubadour!" he said scornfully to himself. "Edward Mauville +sighing at a lady's window like some sentimental serenader! There's a +light yonder. Now to play my despairing part, I must watch for her +image. If I were some one else, I should say my heart beats faster +than usual. She comes--the fair lady! Now the curtain's down. All that +may be seen is her shadow. So, despairing lover, hug that shadow to +your breast!" + +He plucked a rose from a bush in her garden, laughing at himself the +while for doing so, and as he moved away he repeated with conviction: + +"A shadow! That is all she ever could have been to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +FROM GARRET TO GARDEN + + +"Celestina, what do you think this is?" Waving something that crackled +in mid air. + +"A piece of paper," said Celestina from her place on the hearth. + +"Paper!" scoffed Straws. "It's that which Horace calls a handmaid, if +you know how to use it; a mistress, if you do not--money! It +is--success, the thing which wrecks more lives than cyclones, fires +and floods! We were happy enough before this came, weren't we, +Celestina?" + +The girl nodded her head, a look of deep anxiety in her eyes. + +"Oh, why did the critics so damn the book it fairly leaped to +popularity!" went on the bard. "Why did they advise me to learn a +trade? to spoil no more reams of paper? To spoil reams of paper and +get what--this little bit in return!" + +"Is it so very much money?" asked Celestina. + +"An enormous amount--one thousand dollars! And the worst of it is, my +publishers write there may be more to come." + +"Well," said the child, after a long, thoughtful pause, "why don't you +give it away?" + +"Hum! Your suggestion, my dear--" + +"But, perhaps, no one would take it?" interrupted Celestina. + +"Perhaps they wouldn't!" agreed Straws, rubbing his hands. "So, under +the circumstances, let us consider how we may cultivate some of the +vices of the rich. It is a foregone conclusion, set down by the +philosophers, that misery assails riches. The philosophers were never +rich and therefore they know. Besides, they are unanimous on the +subject. It only remains to make the best of it and cultivate the +vanities of our class. Where shall I begin? 'Riches betray man into +arrogance,' saith Addison. Therefore will I be arrogant; while you, my +dear, shall be proud." + +"That will be lovely!" assented Celestina, as a matter of habit. She +went to the bed and began smoothing the sheets deftly. + +"My dear!" expostulated Straws. "You mustn't do that." + +"Not make the bed!" she asked, in surprise. + +"No." + +"Nor bring your charcoal?" + +"No." + +"Nor wash your dishes?" + +"Certainly not!" + +Celestina dropped on the floor, a picture of misery. + +"Too bad, isn't it?" commented Straws. "But it can't be helped, can +it?" + +"No," she said, shaking her head, wofully; "it can't be helped! But +why--why did you publish it?" + +"Just what the critics asked, my dear! Why? Who knows? Who can tell +why the gods invented madness? But it's done; for bad, or worse!" + +"For bad, or worse!" she repeated, gazing wistfully toward the rumpled +bed. + +"If somebody tells you fine feathers don't make fine birds, don't +believe him," continued the poet. "It's envy that speaks! But what do +you suppose I have here?" Producing a slip of paper from his vest +pocket. "No; it's not another draft! An advertisement! Listen: +'Mademoiselle de Castiglione's select seminary. Young ladies +instructed in the arts of the _bon ton_. Finesse, repose, literature! +Fashions, etiquette, languages! P. S. Polkas a specialty!' Celestina, +your destiny lies at Mademoiselle de Castiglione's. They will teach +you to float into a drawing room--but you won't forget the garret? +They will instruct you how to sit on gilt chairs--you will think +sometimes of the box, or the place by the hearth? You will become a +mistress of the piano--'By the Coral Strands I Wander,' 'The Sweet +Young Bachelor'--but I trust you will not learn to despise altogether +the attic pipe?" + +"You mean," said Celestina, slowly, her face expressing bewilderment, +"I must go away somewhere?" + +Straws nodded. "That's it; somewhere!" + +The girl's eyes flashed; her little hands clenched. "I won't; I +won't!" + +"Then that's the end on't!" retorted the bard. "I had bought you +some new dresses, a trunk with your name on it, and had made +arrangements with Mademoiselle de Castiglione (who had read 'Straws' +Strophes'), but perhaps I could give the dresses away to some other +little girl who will be glad to drink at the Pierian--I mean, the +Castiglione--spring." + +Celestina's eyes were an agony of jealousy; not that she was +mercenary, or cared for the dresses, but that Straws should give them +to another little girl. Her pride, however, held her in check and she +drew herself up with composure. + +"That would be nice--for the other little girl!" she said. + +"The only difficulty is," resumed Straws, "there isn't any other +little girl." + +At that, Celestina gave a glad cry and flew to him, throwing her arms +around his neck. + +"Oh, I will go anywhere you want!" she exclaimed. + +"Get on your bonnet then--before you change your mind, my dear!" + +"And aunt?" asked Celestina, lingering doubtfully on the threshold. + +"Your aunt, as you call that shriveled-up shrew, consented at once," +answered Straws. "Her parental heart was filled with thanksgiving at +the prospect of one less mouth to fill. Go and say good-by, however, +to the old harridan; I think she has a few conventional tears to shed. +But do not let her prolong her grief inordinately, and meet me at the +front door." + +A few moments later, Straws and the child, hand-in-hand, started on +their way to the Castiglione temple of learning and culture. If +Celestina appeared thoughtful, even sad, the poet was never so merry, +and sought to entertain the abstracted girl with sparkling chit-chat +about the people they met in the crowded streets. A striking little +man was a composer of ability, whose operas, "Cosimo," "Les Pontons de +Cadiz," and other works had been produced at the Opéra Comique in +Paris. He was now director of the French opera in New Orleans and had +brought out the charming Mademoiselle Capriccioso and the sublime +Signor Staccato. The lady by his side, a dark brunette with features +that were still beautiful, was the nimble-footed Madame Feu-de-joie, +whose shapely limbs and graceful motions had delighted two generations +and were like to appeal to a third. Men who at twenty had thrown +Feu-de-joie posies, now bald but young as ever, tossed her roses. + +"I don't like that lady," said Celestina, emphatically, when the +dancer had passed on, after petting her and kissing her on the cheek. + +"Now, it's curious," commented the bard, "but your sex never did." + +"Do men like her?" asked the child, with premature penetration. + +"They did; they do; they will!" answered Straws, epigrammatically. + +"Do you like her?" + +"Oh, that's different! Poets, you know, are the exception to any +rule." + +"Why?" + +"Because--Really, my dear, you ask too many questions!" + +Although Straws and Celestina had left the house early in the day, it +was noon before they reached the attractive garden, wherein was +sequestered the "select seminary." + +In this charming prison, whose walls were overrun with flowering +vines, and whose cells were pretty vestal bowers, entered the bard and +the young girl, to be met on the front porch by the wardeness herself, +a mite of a woman, with wavy yellow hair, fine complexion and +washed-out blue eyes. Sensitive almost to shyness, Mademoiselle de +Castiglione appeared more adapted for the seclusion of the veil in the +Ursuline Church than for the varied responsibilities of a young +ladies' institute. At the approach of the poet, she turned, looked +startled, but finally came forward bravely. + +"Oh, I've read it again, Mr. Straws!" she exclaimed, impetuously. + +"What?" he returned, sternly, pausing at the foot of the steps. + +"Your--your lovely Strophes!" she continued, timidly. + +The bard frowned. "All great men profess to scowl at flattery," +thought Straws. "She will have but a poor opinion of me, if I do not +appear an offended Hector!" + +"Mademoiselle, I excessively dislike compliments," he began aloud, but +having gone thus far, his courage and lack of chivalry failed him in +the presence of her dismay; he forgot his greatness, and hastened to +add, with an ingratiating smile: "Except when delivered by such a +charming person!" + +"Oh, Mr. Straws!" + +"This, Mademoiselle," resumed the bard, "is the young girl I spoke +about. Her mother," he added in a low voice, "was a beautiful +quadroon; her father"--here Straws mentioned a name. The wardeness +flushed furiously. "Father died; always meant to make it right; +didn't; crime of good intentions! Virago of an aunt; regular +termagant; hates the girl! Where was a home to be found for her? +Where"--gazing around him--"save this--Eden? Where a mother--save in +one whose heart is the tenderest?" + +Diplomatic Straws! Impulsively the wardeness crossed to Celestina; her +blue eyes beamed with sentiment and friendliness. "I will give her my +personal attention," she said. And then to the young girl: "We will be +friends, won't we?" + +"Yes," replied Celestina, slowly, after a moment's discreet +hesitation. She was glad the other did not kiss her like Feu-de-joie. + +"I always like," said the wardeness, "to feel my little girls are all +my little friends." + +"Mademoiselle," exclaimed the bard, "I'll--I'll dedicate my next +volume of poems to you!" + +"Really, Mr. Straws!" + +"For every kindness to her, you shall have a verse," he further +declared. + +"Then your dedication would be as long as Homer!" she suddenly flashed +out, her arm around the child. + +Straws looked at her quickly. It was too bad of him! And that borrowed +Don Juan smile! Nothing could excuse it. + +Castiglione busied herself with Celestina's ribbons. "Whoever did tie +that bow-knot?" she observed. + +"Good-by, Celestina," said Straws. + +Celestina put her arms gravely about his neck and he pressed his lips +to her cheek. Then he strode quickly toward the gate. Just before +passing out, he looked back. The wardeness had finished adjusting the +ribbon and was contemplatively inspecting it. Celestina, as though +unconscious of the attention, was gazing after the poet, and when he +turned into the road, her glance continued to rest upon the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"THE BEST OF LIFE" + + +On a certain evening about a month later, the tropical rains had +flooded the thoroughfares, until St. Charles Street needed but a +Rialto and a little imagination to convert it into a watery highway of +another Venice, while as for Canal Street, its name was as applicable +as though it were spanned by a Bridge of Sighs. In the narrow streets +the projecting eaves poured the water from the roof to the sidewalks, +deluging the pedestrians. These minor thoroughfares were tributary to +the main avenues and gushed their rippling currents into them, as +streams supply a river, until the principal streets flowed swiftly +with the dirty water that choked their gutters. The rain splashed and +spattered on the sidewalks, fairly flooding out the fruit venders and +street merchants who withstood the deluge for a time and then were +forced to vanish with their portable stores. The cabby, phlegmatic to +wind and weather, sat on his box, shedding the moisture from his +oil-skin coat and facing a cloud of steam which presumably concealed a +horse. + +The dark night and the downpour made the _cafés_ look brighter. +Umbrellas flitted here and there, skilfully piloted beneath swinging +signs and low balconies, evading awning posts and high hats as best +they might. There were as many people out as usual, but they were +hurrying to their destinations, even the languid creole beauty, all +lace and alabaster, moved with the sprightliness of a maid of Gotham. + +Straws, editor and rhymster, was seated on the semi-Oriental, +semi-French gallery of the little _café_, called the Veranda, sipping +his absinthe, smoking a cheroot and watching the rain drip from the +roof of the balcony, spatter on the iron railing and form a shower +bath for the pedestrians who ventured from beneath the protecting +shelter. Before him was paper, partly covered with well-nigh illegible +versification, and a bottle of ink, while a goose-quill, tool of the +tuneful Nine, was expectantly poised in mid air. + +"Confound it!" he said to himself. "I can't write in the attic any +more, since Celestina has gone, and apparently I can't write away from +it. Since she left, the dishes haven't been washed; my work has run +down at the heels, and everything is going to the dogs generally. And +now this last thing has upset me quite. 'In the twinkling of an eye,' +says the sacred Book. But I must stop thinking, or I'll never complete +this poem. Now to make my mind a blank; a fitting receptacle to +receive inspiration!" + +The bard's figure swayed uncertainly on the stool. In the lively race +through a sonnet, it was often, of late, a matter of doubt with +Straws, whether Bacchus or Calliope would prevail at the finish, and +to-night the jocund god had had a perceptible start. "Was ever a poet +so rhyme-fuddled?" muttered the impatient versifier. "An inebriating +trade, this poetizing!"--and he reached for the absinthe. "If I am not +careful, these rhymes will put me under the table!" + +"Nappy, eh?" said a voice at his elbow, as a dripping figure +approached, deposited his hat on one chair and himself in another. The +newcomer had a long, Gothic face and a merry-wise expression. + +The left hand of the poet waved mechanically, imposing silence; the +quill dived suddenly to paper, trailed twice across it, and then was +cast aside, as Straws looked up. + +"Yes," he replied to the other's interrogation. "It's all on account +of Celestina's leaving me. You ought to see my room. Even a poet's +soul revolts against it. So what can I do, save make my home amid +convivial haunts?" The poet sighed. "And you, Phazma; how are you +feeling?" + +"Sober as a judge!" + +"Then you shall judge of this last couplet," exclaimed Straws quickly. +"It has cost me much effort. The editor wanted it. It seemed almost +too sad a subject for my halting muse. There are some things which +should be sacred even from us, Phazma. But what is to be done when the +editor-in-chief commands? 'Ours not to reason why!' The poem is a +monody on the tragedy at the theater." + +"At the St. Charles?" said Phazma, musingly. "As I passed, it was +closed. It seemed early for the performance to be over. Yet the +theater was dark; all the lights had gone out." + +"More than the lights went out," answered Straws, gravely; "a life +went out!" + +"I don't exactly--Oh, you refer to Miss Carew's farewell?" + +"No; to Barnes'!" + +"Barnes'!" exclaimed his surprised listener. + +"Yes; he is dead; gone out like the snuff of a candle! Died in +harness, before the footlights!" + +"During the performance!" cried the wondering Phazma. "Why, only this +afternoon I met him, apparently hale and hearty, and now--you tell me +he has paid the debt of nature?" + +"As we must all pay it," returned Straws. "He acted as if he were +dazed while the play was in progress and I could not but notice it, +standing in the wings. The prompter spoke of it to me. 'I don't know +what is the matter with Mr. Barnes,' he said, 'I have had to keep +throwing him his lines.' Even Miss Carew rallied him gently between +acts on his subdued manner. + +"'This is our last performance together,' he said absently. She gave +him a reproachful look and he added, quickly: 'Do I appear gloomy, my +dear? I never felt happier.' + +"At the end of the second act he seemed to arouse himself, when she, +as Isabella, said: 'I'll fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest.' +He gazed at her long and earnestly, his look caressing her wherever +she moved. Beginning the prison scene with spirit, he had proceeded +to, + + "'Reason thus with life; + If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing + That none but fools would keep--' + +When suddenly he threw up his arms and fell upon the stage, his face +toward the audience. With a cry I shall never forget, Miss Carew +rushed to him and took his head in her arms, gazing at him wildly, and +calling to him piteously. The curtain went down, but nothing could be +done, and life quickly ebbed. Once, only, his lips moved: 'Your +mother--there!--where the play never ends!' and it was over." + +"It is like a romance," said Phazma, finally, at the conclusion of +this narration. + +"Say, rather, reality! The masque is over! In that final sleep Jack +Pudding lies with Roscius; the tragedian does not disdain the mummer, +and beautiful Columbine, all silver spangles and lace, is company for +the clown. 'Tis the only true republic, Phazma; death's Utopia!" + +"But to think he should have died with those words of the poet on his +lips?" + +"A coincidence!" answered Straws. "No more notable than the death of +Edmund Kean, who, when he reached the passage 'Farewell, Othello's +occupation's gone!' fell back unconscious; or that of John Palmer, +who, after reciting 'There is another and a better world,' passed away +without a pang." + +A silence fell between the two poets; around them shadows appeared and +vanished. Phazma finished his syrup and arose. + +"Don't go," said Straws. "My own thoughts are poor company. Recite +some of your madrigals, that's a good fellow! What a wretched night! +These rain-drops are like the pattering feet of the invisible host. +Some simple song, Phazma!" + +"As many as you please!" cried his flattered brother-bard. "What shall +it be?" + +"One of your Rhymes for Children. Your 'Boy's Kingdom,' beginning: + + "When I was young, I dreamed of knights + And dames with silken trains." + +"Thou shalt have it, _mon ami_!" + +And Phazma gaily caught up the refrain, while Straws beat time to the +tinkling measures. + + * * * * * + +The last entry in the date-book, or diary, of Barnes seems curiously +significant as indicating a knowledge that his end was near. For the +first time in the volume he rambles on in a reminiscent mood about his +boyhood days: + +"The first bit of good fortune I ever enjoyed was when as a lad in +sweeping a crossing in the neighborhood of the Strand I found a +bright, shining sovereign. How tightly I grasped it in my little fist +that night when I slept in a doorway! I dared not trust it in my +pocket. The next night I walked to the ticket-seller at Drury Lane, +and demanded a seat down stairs. 'Gallery seats sold around the +corner,' said this imposing gentleman with a prodigious frown, and, +abashed, I slunk away. My dream of being near the grand people +vanished and I climbed once more to my place directly under the roof. + +"My next bit of good fortune happened in this wise. Sheridan, the +playwright-orator, attracted my attention on Piccadilly one day, and, +for the delight of gazing upon him, I followed. When he stopped, I +stopped; when he advanced, I did likewise. I felt that I was treading +in the footsteps of a king. Suddenly he paused, wheeled about and +confronted me, a raw-boned, ragged, awkward lad of fourteen. 'What one +of my creditors has set you following me?' he demanded. 'None, sir,' I +stammered. 'I only wanted to look at the author of "The Rivals."' He +appeared much amused and said: 'Egad! So you are a patron of the +drama, my boy?' I muttered something in the affirmative. He regarded +my appearance critically. 'I presume you would not be averse to +genteel employment, my lad?' he asked. With that he scribbled a moment +and handed me a note to the property man of Drury Lane. My heart was +too full; I had no words to thank him. The tears were in my eyes, +which, noting, he remarked, with an assumption of sternness: 'Are you +sure, boy, you are not a bailiff in disguise?' At this I laughed and +he left me. The note procured me an engagement as errand boy at the +stage-door and later I rose to the dignity of scene-shifter. How truly +typical of this man's greatness, to help lift a homeless lad out of +the gutters of London town! + +"But I am rambling on as though writing an autobiography, to be read +when I am gone--" + +Here the entry ceases and the rest of the pages in the old date-book +are blank. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE LAWYER'S TIDINGS + + +The sudden and tragic death of Constance's foster-father--which +occurred virtually as narrated by Straws--set a seal of profound +sadness on the heart of the young girl. "Good sir, adieu!" she had +said in the nunnery scene and the eternal parting had shortly +followed. Her affection for the old manager had been that of a loving +daughter; the grief she should have experienced over the passing of +the marquis was transferred to the memory of one who had been a father +through love's kinship. In the far-away past, standing at the bier of +her mother, the manager it was who had held her childish hand, +consoling her and sharing her affliction, and, in those distant but +unforgotten days of trouble, the young girl and the homeless old man +became all in all to each other. + +Years had rolled by; the child that prattled by his side became the +stately girl, but the hand-clasp at that grave had never been +relinquished. She could not pretend to mourn the death of the marquis, +her own father; had he not ever been dead to her; as dead as the good +wife (or bad wife) of that nobleman; as dead as Gross George, and all +the other honored and dishonored figures of that misty past? But +Barnes' death was the abrupt severing of ties, strengthened by years +of tender association, and, when his last summons came, she felt +herself truly alone. + +In an old cemetery, amid the crumbling bricks, Barnes was buried, his +sealed tomb above ground bearing in its inscription the answer to the +duke's query: "Thy Best of Life is Sleep." After the manager's death +and Constance's retirement from the stage, it naturally followed that +the passengers of the chariot became separated. Mrs. Adams continued +to play old woman parts throughout the country, remaining springy and +buoyant to the last. Susan transferred herself and her talents to +another stock company performing in New Orleans, while Kate procured +an engagement with a traveling organization. Adonis followed in her +train. It had become like second nature to quarrel with Kate, and at +the mere prospect of separation, he forthwith was driven to ask her +for her hand, and was accepted--on probation, thus departing in +leading strings. Hawkes, melancholy as of old, drifted into a comic +part in a "variety show," acquiring new laurels as a dry comedian of +the old school. But he continued to live alone in the world, +mournfully sufficient unto himself. + +Constance remained in New Orleans. There the old manager had found his +final resting place and she had no definite desire to go elsewhere. +Adrift in the darkness of the present, the young girl was too +perplexed to plan for the future. So she remained in the house Barnes +had rented shortly before his death. An elderly gentlewoman of fallen +fortunes, to whom this semi-rural establishment belonged, Constance +retained as a companion, passing her time quietly, soberly, almost in +solitude. This mansion, last remnant of its owner's earthly estate, +was roomy and spacious, nestling among the oranges and inviting +seclusion with its pretentious wall surrounding the grounds. + +The old-fashioned gentlewoman, poor and proud, was a fitting figure in +that ancient house, where in former days gay parties had assembled. +But now the principal callers at the old house were the little fat +priest, with a rosy smile, who looked after the aged lady's soul, of +which she was most solicitous in these later days, and the Count de +Propriac, who came ostensibly to see the elderly woman and chat about +genealogy and extraction, but was obviously not unmindful of the +presence of the young girl nor averse to seeking to mitigate her +sorrow. Culver, the lawyer, too, came occasionally, to talk about her +affairs, but often her mind turned impatiently from figures and +markets to the subtle rhythm of Shakespeare. She regretted having left +the stage, feeling the loneliness of this simple existence; yet averse +to seeking diversion, and shunning rather than inviting society. As +the inert hours crept by, she longed for the forced wakefulness and +stir of other days--happy days of insecurity; fleeting, joyous days, +gone now beyond recall! + +But while she was striving to solve these new problems of her life +they were all being settled for her by Fate, that arrogant meddler. +Calling one morning, Culver, nosegay in hand, was obliged to wait +longer than usual and employed the interval in casually examining his +surroundings--and, incidentally, himself. First, with the vanity of +youngish old gentlemen, he gazed into a tall mirror, framed in the +fantastic style of the early Venetians; a glass which had belonged to +the marquis and had erstwhile reflected the light beauty of his noble +spouse. Pausing about as long as it would have taken a lady to adjust +a curl, he peeped into a Dutch cabinet of ebony and mother-of-pearl +and was studying a charming creature painted on ivory, whose head like +that of Bluebeard's wife was subsequently separated from her lovely +shoulders, when a light footstep behind him interrupted his scrutiny. +Turning, he greeted the young girl, and, with stately gallantry, +presented the nosegay. + +"How well you are looking!" he said. "Though there might be a little +more color, perhaps, like some of these flowers. If I were a doctor, I +should prescribe: Less cloister; more city!" + +She took the flowers, meeting his kindly gaze with a faint smile. + +"Most patients would like such prescriptions," he went on. "I should +soon become a popular society physician." + +But although he spoke lightly, his manner was partly forced and he +regarded her furtively. Their brief acquaintance had awakened in him +an interest, half-paternal, half-curious. Women were an unknown, but +beautiful quantity; from the vantage point of a life of single +blessedness, he vaguely, but quixotically placed them in the same +category with flowers, and his curiosity was no harsher than that of a +gardener studying some new variety of bud or blossom. Therefore he +hesitated in what he was about to say, shifting in his chair uneasily +when they were seated, but finally coming to the point with: + +"Have you read the account of the engagement between the Mexican and +the American forces at Vera Cruz?" + +"No; not yet," she admitted. + +"Nor the list of--of casualties?" he continued, hesitatingly. + +"The casualties!" she repeated. "Why--" + +"Saint-Prosper has no further interest in the marquis' sous," he said +quickly. + +She gazed straight before her, calm and composed. This absence of any +exhibition of feeling reassured the attorney. + +"He is--dead?" she asked quietly. + +"Yes." + +"How did he die?" + +"Gallantly," replied the caller, now convinced she had no interest in +the matter, save that of a mere acquaintance. "His death is described +in half a column. You see he did not live in vain!" + +"Was he--killed in battle?" + +"In a skirmish. His company was sent to break up a band of guerilla +rancheros at Antigua. They ambushed him; he drove them out of the +thicket but fell--You have dropped your flowers. Allow me!--at the +head of his men." + +"At the head of his men!" She drew in her breath. + +"There passed the last of an ill-fated line," said the lawyer, +reflectively. "Poor fellow! He started with such bright prospects, +graduating from the military college with unusual honors. Ambitious, +light-hearted, he went to Africa to carve out a name in the army. But +fate was against him. The same ship that took him over carried back, +to the marquis, the story of his brother's disgrace--" + +"His brother's disgrace!" she exclaimed. + +Culver nodded. "He sold a French stronghold in Africa, Miss Carew." + +Had the attorney been closely observing her he would have noticed the +sudden look of bewilderment that crossed her face. She stared at him +with her soul in her eyes. + +"Ernest Saint-Prosper's--brother?" + +The turmoil of her thoughts held her as by a spell; in the disruption +of a fixed conclusion her brain was filled with new and poignant +reflections. Unconsciously she placed a nervous hand upon his arm. + +"Then Ernest Saint-Prosper who was--killed in Mexico was not the +traitor?" + +"Certainly not!" exclaimed Culver, quickly, "Owing to the disgrace, I +am sure, more than to any other reason, he bade farewell to his +country--and now lies unmourned in some mountain ravine. It is true +the marquis quarreled with him, disliking not a little the young man's +republican ideas, but--my dear young lady!--you are ill?" + +"No, no!" she returned, hastily, striving to maintain her self-possession. +"How--do you know this?" + +"Through the marquis, himself," he replied, somewhat uneasy beneath +her steady gaze. "He told me the story in order to protect the estate +from any possible pretensions on the part of the traitor. The renegade +was reported dead, but the marquis, nevertheless remained skeptical. +He did not believe in the old saw about the devil being dead. '_Le +diable_ lives always,' he said." + +The visitor observed a perceptible change in the young girl, just what +he could not define, but to him it seemed mostly to lie in her eyes +where something that baffled him looked out and met his glance. + +"His brother was an officer in the French army?" she asked, as though +forcing herself to speak. + +"Yes; ten years older than Ernest Saint-Prosper, he had already made a +career for himself. How eagerly, then, must the younger brother have +looked forward to meeting him; to serving with one who, in his young +eyes, was all that was brave and noble! What a bitter awakening from +the dream! It is not those we hate who can injure us most--only those +we love can stab us so deeply!" + +Mechanically she answered the lawyer, and, when he prepared to leave, +the hand, given him at parting, was as cold as ice. + +"Remember," he said, admonishingly; "less cloister, more city!" + +Some hours later, the old lady, dressed in her heavy silk and brocade +and with snow-white hair done up in imposing fashion, rapped on +Constance's door, but received no answer. Knocking again, with like +result, she entered the room, discovering the young girl on the bed, +her cheeks tinted like the rose, her eyes with no gleam of recognition +in them, and her lips moving, uttering snatches of old plays. Taking +her hand, the old lady found it hot and dry. + +"Bless me!" she exclaimed. "She is down with a fever." And at once +prepared a simple remedy which soon silenced the babbling lips in +slumber, after which she sent for the doctor. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE COUNCIL OF WAR + + +"Adjutant, tell Colonel Saint-Prosper I wish to see him." + +The adjutant saluted and turned on his heel, while General Scott bent +over the papers before him, studying a number of rough pencil +tracings. Absorbed in his task, the light of two candles on the table +brought into relief, against the dark shadows, a face of rugged +character and marked determination. Save for a slight contraction of +the brow, he gave no evidence of the mental concentration he bestowed +upon the matter in hand, which was to lead to the culmination of the +struggle and to vindicate the wisdom and boldness of his policy. + +"You sent for me, General?" + +An erect, martial figure stood respectfully at the entrance of the +tent. + +"Yes," said the General, pushing the papers from him. "I have been +studying your drawings of the defensive works at San Antonio Garita +and find them entirely comprehensive. A council of officers has been +called, and perhaps it will be as well for you to remain." + +"At what time shall I be here, General?" + +"It is about time now," answered the commander-in-chief, consulting +his watch. "You have quite recovered from your wounds?" he added, +kindly. + +"Yes, thank you, General." + +"I see by the newspapers you were reported dead. If your friends read +that it will cause them needless anxiety. You had better see that the +matter is corrected." + +"It is hardly worth while," returned the young man, slowly. + +The commanding general glanced at him in some surprise. "A strange +fellow!" he thought. "Has he reasons for wishing to be considered +dead? However, that is none of my business. At any rate, he is a good +soldier." And, after a moment, he continued: "Cerro Gordo was warm +work, but there is warmer yet in store for us. Only Providence, not +the Mexicans, can stop us. But here are the officers," as General +Pillow, Brevet-General Twiggs and a number of other officers entered. + +The commander-in-chief proceeded to give such information as he had, +touching the approaches to the city. Many of the officers favored +operating against San Antonio Garita, others attacking Chapultepec. +Saint-Prosper, when called on, stated that the ground before the San +Antonio gate was intersected by many irrigating ditches and that much +of the approach was under water. + +"Then you would prefer storming a fortress to taking a ditch?" said +one of the generals, satirically. + +"A series of ditches," replied the other. + +"Colonel Saint-Prosper is right," exclaimed the commanding general. "I +had already made up my mind. Let it be the western gate, then." + +And thus was brought to a close one of the most memorable councils of +war, for it determined the fate of the City of Mexico. + +Saint-Prosper looked older than when seen in New Orleans, as though he +had endured much in that brief but hard campaign. His wound had +incapacitated him for only a few months, and in spite of the climate +and a woful lack of medical attendance and nourishing supplies, his +hardy constitution stood him in such stead he was on his feet and in +the saddle, while his comrades languished and died in the fierce heat +of the temporary hospitals. His fellow-officers knew him as a fearless +soldier, but a man reticent about himself, who made a confidant of no +one. Liked for his ready, broad military qualities, it was a matter of +comment, nevertheless, that no one knew anything about him except that +he had served in the French army and was highly esteemed by General +Scott as a daring and proficient engineer. + +One evening shortly before the skirmish of Antigua, a small Mexican +town had been ransacked, where were found cattle, bales of tobacco, +pulque and wine. At the rare feast which followed a veteran drank to +his wife; a young man toasted his sweetheart, and a third, with moist +eyes, sang the praises of his mother. In the heart of the enemy's +land, amid the uncertainties of war, remembrance carried them back to +their native soil, rugged New England, the hills of Vermont, the +prairies of Illinois, the blue grass of Kentucky. + +"Saint-Prosper!" they cried, calling on him, when the festivities were +at their height. + +"To you, gentlemen," he replied, rising, glass in hand. "I drink to +your loved ones!" + +"To your own!" cried a young man, flushed with the wine. + +Saint-Prosper gazed around that rough company, brave hearts softened +to tenderness, and, lifting his canteen, said, after a moment's +hesitation: + +"To a princess on a tattered throne!" + +They looked at him in surprise. Who was this adventurer who toasted +princesses? The Mexican war had brought many soldiers of fortune and +titled gentlemen from Europe to the new world, men who took up the +cause more to be fighting than that they cared what the struggle was +about. Was the "tattered throne" Louis Philippe's chair of state, torn +by the mob in the Tuileries? And what foreign princess was the lady of +the throne? But they took up the refrain promptly, good-naturedly, and +a chorus rolled out: + +"To the princess!" + +Little they knew she was but a poor stroller; an "impudent, +unwomanish, graceless monster," according to Master Prynne. + +After leaving the commanding general's tent, Saint-Prosper retired to +rest in that wilderness which had once been a monarch's pleasure +grounds. Now overhead the mighty cypresses whispered their tales of +ancient glory and faded renown; the wind waved those trailing beards, +hoary with age; a gathering of venerable giants, murmuring the days +when the Aztec monarch had once held courtly revels under the grateful +shadows of their branches. The moaning breeze seemed the wild chant of +the Indian priest in honor of the war-god of Anahuac. It told of +battles to come and conflicts which would level to the dust the +descendants of the conquerors of that ill-starred country. And so the +soldier finally fell asleep, with that requiem ringing in his ears. + +When daybreak again penetrated the mountain recesses and fell upon the +valley, Saint-Prosper arose to shake off a troubled slumber. An +unhealthy mist hung over the earth, like a miasma, and the officer +shivered as he walked in that depressing and noxious atmosphere. It +lay like a deleterious veil before the glades where myrtles mingled +with the wild limes. It concealed from view a cross, said to have been +planted by Cortez--the cross he worshiped because of its resemblance +to the hilt of a sword!--and enveloped the hoary trees that were old +when Montezuma was a boy or when Marina was beloved by the mighty +free-booter. + +The shade resting on the valley appeared that of a mighty, virulent +hand. Out of the depths arose a flock of dark-hued birds, soaring +toward the morbific fog; not moving like other winged creatures, with +harmony of motion, but rising without unity, and filling the vale with +discordant sounds. Nowhere could these sable birds have appeared more +unearthly than in the "dark valley," as it was called by the natives, +where the mists moved capriciously, yet remained persistently within +the circumference of this natural cauldron, now falling like a pall +and again hovering in mid air. Suddenly the uncanny birds vanished +among the trees as quickly as they had arisen, and there was something +mysterious about their unwarranted disappearance and the abrupt +cessation of clamorous cries. + +While viewing this somber scene, Saint-Prosper had made his way to a +little adobe house which the natives had built near the trail that led +through the valley. As he approached this hut he encountered a dismal +but loquacious sentinel, tramping before the partly opened door. + +"This is chilly work, guard?" said the young man, pausing. + +"Yis, Colonel," replied the soldier, apparently grateful for the +interruption; "it's a hot foight I prefer to this cool dooty." + +"Whom are you guarding?" continued the officer. + +"A spy, taken in the lines a few days ago. He's to be executed this +morning at six. But I don't think he will moind that, for it's out of +his head he is, with the malaria." + +"He should have had medical attendance," observed the officer, +stepping to the door. + +"Faith, they'll cure him at daybreak," replied the guard. "It's a +medicine that niver fails." + +Saint-Prosper pushed open the door. The interior was so dim that at +first he could not distinguish the occupant, but when his eyes became +accustomed to the darkness, he discovered the figure of the prisoner, +who was lying with his back toward him on the ground of the little hut +with nothing but a thin blanket beneath him. The only light revealing +the barren details of this Indian residence sifted through the small +doorway or peered timorously down through a narrow aperture in the +roof that served for a chimney. As Saint-Prosper gazed at the +prostrate man, the latter moved uneasily, and from the parched lips +fell a few words: + +"Lock the doors, Oly-koeks! Hear the songsters, Mynheer Ten +Breecheses! Birds of prey, you Dutch varlet! What do you think of the +mistress of the manor? The serenading anti-renters have come for her." +Then he repeated more slowly: "The squaw Pewasch! For seventeen and +one-half ells of duffels! A rare principality for the scornful minx! +Lord! how the birds sing now around the manor--screech owls, +cat-birds, bobolinks!" + +The soldier started back, vivid memories assailing his mind. Who was +this man whose brain, independent of the corporeal shell, played +waywardly with scenes, characters and events, indissolubly associated +with his own life? + +"Do you know, Little Thunder, the Lord only rebuked the Pharisees?" +continued the prostrate man. "Though the Pharisee triumphs after all! +But it was the stroller I wanted, not the principality." + +He stirred quickly, as if suddenly aware of the presence of another in +the hut, and, turning, lifted his head in a startled manner, surveying +the figure near the doorway with conflicting emotions written on his +pallid countenance. Perhaps some fragment of a dream yet lingered in +his brain; perhaps he was confused at the sight of a face that met his +excited look with one of doubt and bewilderment, but only partial +realization of the identity of the intruder came to him in his fevered +condition. + +Arising deliberately, his body, like a machine, obeying automatically +some unconscious power, he confronted the officer, who recognized in +him, despite his thin, worn face and eyes, unnaturally bright, the +once pretentious land baron, Edward Mauville. Moving toward the door, +gazing on Saint-Prosper as though he was one of the figures of a +disturbing phantasm, he reached the threshold, and, lifting his hand +above his head, the prisoner placed it against one of the supports of +the hut and stood leaning there. From the creation of his mind's eye, +as he doubtlessly, half-conscious of his weakness, designated the +familiar form, he glanced at the sentinel and shook as though +abruptly conscious of his situation. Across the valley the soldiers +showed signs of bestirring themselves, the smoke of many fires +hovering earthward beneath the mist. Drawing his thin frame proudly to +its full height, with a gesture of disdain for physical weakness, and +setting his keen, wild eyes upon the soldier, Mauville said in a +hollow tone: + +"Is that really you, Mr. Saint-Prosper? At first I thought you but a +trick of the imagination. Well, look your fill upon me! You are my +Nemesis come to see the end." + +"I am here by chance, Edward Mauville; an officer in the American +army!" + +"And I, a spy in the Mexican army. So are we authorized foes." + +Rubbing his trembling hands together, his eyes shifted from the dark +birds to the mists, then from the phantom forests back to the hut, +finally resting on his shabby boots of yellow leather. The sunlight +penetrating a rift in the mist settled upon him as he moved feebly and +uncertainly through the doorway and seated himself upon a stool. This +sudden glow brought into relief his ragged, unkempt condition, the +sallowness of his face, and his wasted form, and Saint-Prosper could +not but contrast pityingly this cheerless object, in the garb of a +ranchero, with the prepossessing, sportive heir who had driven through +the Shadengo Valley. + +Apparently now the sun was grateful to his bent, stricken figure, +and, basking in it, he recalled his distress of the previous night: + +"This is better. Not long ago I awoke with chattering teeth. 'This,' I +said, 'is life; a miasma, cold, discomfort,' Yes, yes; a fever, a +miasma, with phantoms fighting you--struggling to choke you--but +now"--he paused, and fumbling in his pocket, drew out a cigarette +case, which he opened, but found empty. A cigar the other handed him +he took mechanically and lighted with scrupulous care. Near at hand +the guard, more cheerful under the prospect of speedy relief from his +duties, could be heard humming to himself: + + "Oh, Teady-foley, you are my darling, + You are my looking-glass night and morning--" + +Watching the smoker, Saint-Prosper asked himself how came Mauville to +be serving against his own country, or why he should have enlisted at +all, this pleasure-seeking man of the world, to whom the hardships of +a campaign must have been as novel as distasteful. + +"Are you satisfied with your trial?" said the soldier at length. + +"Yes," returned Mauville, as if breaking from a reverie. "I confess I +am the secret agent of Santa Anna and would have carried information +from your lines. I am here because there is more of the Latin than the +Anglo-Saxon in me. Many of the old families"--with a touch of insane +pride--"did not regard the purchase of Louisiana by the United States +as a transaction alienating them from other ties. Fealty is not a +commercial commodity. But this," he added, scornfully, "is something +you can not understand. You soldiers of fortune draw your swords for +any master who pays you." + +The wind moaned down the mountain side, and the slender trees swayed +and bent; only the heavy and ponderous cactus remained motionless, a +formidable monarch receiving obeisance from supple courtiers. Like +cymbals, the leaves clashed around this armament of power with its +thousand spears out-thrust in all directions. + +The ash fell from the cigar as Mauville held the weed before his +eyes. + +"It is an hour-glass," he muttered. "When smoked--Oh, for the power of +Jupiter to order four nights in one, the better to pursue his love +follies! Love follies," he repeated, and, as a new train of fancy was +awakened, he regarded Saint-Prosper venomously. + +"Do you know she is the daughter of a marquis?" said Mauville, +suddenly. + +"Who?" asked the soldier. + +"The stroller, of course. You can never win her," he added, +contemptuously. "She knows all about that African affair." + +Saint-Prosper started violently, but in a moment Mauville's +expression changed, and he appeared plunged in thought. + +"The last time I saw her," he said, half to himself, "she was dressed +in black--her face as noonday--her hair black as midnight--crowning +her with languorous allurement!" + +He repeated the last word several times like a man in a dream. + +"Allurement! allurement!" and again relapsed into a silence that was +half-stupor. + +By this time the valley, with the growing of the day, began to lose +much of its evil aspect, and the eye, tempted through glades and +vistas, lingered upon gorgeous forms of inflorescence. The land +baron slowly blew a wreath of smoke in the air--a circle, mute +reminder of eternity!--and threw the end of the cigar into the +bushes. Looking long and earnestly at the surrounding scene, he +started involuntarily. "The dark valley--whar de mists am risin'--I +see yo' da, honey--fo'ebber and fo'ebber--" + +As he surveyed this prospect, with these words ringing in his ears, +the brief silence was broken by a bugle call and the trampling of +feet. + +"The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall arise," said the prisoner, +turning and facing the soldiers calmly. "You have come for me?" he +asked, quietly. + +"Yes," said the officer in command. "General Scott has granted your +request in view of certain circumstances, and you will be shot, +instead of hanged." + +The face of the prisoner lighted wonderfully. He drew himself erect +and smiled with some of the assumption of the old insolence, that +expression Saint-Prosper so well remembered! His features took on a +semblance to the careless, dashing look they had borne when the +soldier crossed weapons with him at the Oaks, and he neither asked nor +intended to give quarter. + +"I thank you," he observed, courteously. "At least, I shall die like a +gentleman. I am ready, sir! Do not fasten my hands. A Mauville can die +without being tied or bound." + +The officer hesitated: "As to that--" he began. + +"It is a reasonable request," said Saint-Prosper, in a low tone. + +Mauville abruptly wheeled; his face, dark and sinister, was lighted +with envenomed malignity; an unnaturally clear perception replaced the +stupor of his brain, and, bending toward Saint-Prosper, his eye rested +upon him with such rancor and malevolence the soldier involuntarily +drew away. But one word fell from the land baron's lips, low, +vibrating, full of inexpressible bitterness. "Traitor!" + +"Come, come!" interrupted the officer in command of the execution +party; "time is up. As I was told not to fasten your hands, you shall +have your wish. Confess now, that is accommodating?" + +"Thanks," returned Mauville carelessly, relapsing into his old manner. +"You are an obliging fellow! I would do as much for you." + +"Not much danger of that," growled the other. "But we'll take the will +for the deed. Forward, march!" + + * * * * * + +After the reverberations, carried from rock to rock with menacing +reiteration, had ceased, the stillness was absolute. Even the +song-bird remained frightened into silence by those awful echoes. Then +the sun rested like a benediction on the land and the white cross of +Cortez was distinctly outlined against the blue sky. But soon the long +roll of drums followed this interval of quiet. + +"Fall in!" "Attention; shoulder arms!" And the sleeping spirit of the +Aztec war-god floated in the murmur which, increasing in volume, arose +to tumultuous shout. + +"On to Chapultepec! On to Chapultepec!" came from a thousand +throats; arms glistened in the sun, bugles sounded resonant in the +air, and the pattering noise of horses' hoofs mingled with the +stentorian voices of the rough teamsters and the cracking of the +whips. Like an irresistible, all-compelling wave, the troops swept out +of the valley to hurl themselves against castle and fortress and to +plant their colors in the heart of the capital city. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A MEETING ON THE MOUNT + + +Clothed at its base in a misty raiment of purple, the royal hill +lifted above the valley an Olympian crest of porphyritic rock into the +fathomless blue. Here not Jupiter and his court looked serenely down +upon the struggling race, "indifferent from their awful height," but a +dark-hued god, in Aztec vestments, gazed beyond the meadows to the +floating flower beds, the gardens with their baths, and the sensuous +dancing girls. All this, but a panorama between naps, soon faded away; +the god yawned, drew his cloak of humming bird feathers more closely +about him and sank back to rest. An uproar then disturbed his +paleozoic dreams; like fluttering spirits of the garish past, the +butterflies arose in the forest glades; and the voices of old seemed +to chant the Aztec psalm: "The horrors of the tomb are but the cradle +of the sun, and the dark shadows of death the brilliant lights for the +stars." Even so they had chanted when the early free-booters burst +upon the scene and beheld the valley with its frame-work of mountains +and two guardian volcanoes, the Gog and Magog of the table-land. + +Now again, from the towering column of Montezuma's cypress, to the +city marked by spires, the thunder rolled and echoed onward even to +the pine-clad cliffs and snow-crowned summits of the rocky giants. +Puffs of smoke dotted the valley beneath the mount, and, as the +answering reports reverberated across space, nature's mortars in the +inclosure of mountains sent forth threatening wreaths of white in +sympathy with the eight-inch howitzers and sixteen-pounders turned +upon the crest of the royal hill. + +When the trees were yet wet with their bath of dew the booming of +artillery and the clattering of small arms dispelled that peace which +partook of no harsher discord than the purling of streams and the +still, small voices of the forest. Through the groves where the +spirit of Donna Marina--the lost love of the marauder--was said to +wander, shrieked the round shot, shells and grape. Through tangled +shrubberies, bright with flowers and colored berries, pierced the +discharge of canister; the air, fragrant at the dawn with orange +blossom and starry jessamine, was noisome with suffocating, +sulphurous fumes, and, beneath the fetid shroud, figures in a fog +heedlessly trampled the lilies, the red roses and "flowers of the +heart." + +From the castle on the summit--mortal trespass upon the immortal pale +of the gods!--the upward shower was answered by an iron downpour, and +two storming parties, with ladders, pick-axes and crows, advanced, +one on each side of the hill, to the attack. Boom! boom! before one of +the parties, climbing and scrambling to the peak, belched the iron +missives of destruction from the concealed mouths of heavy guns, +followed by the rattling shower from small arms. + +Surprised, they paused, panting from the swift ascent, some throwing +themselves prone upon the earth, while the grape and canister passed +harmlessly over them, others seeking such shelter as rocks, trees and +shrubs afforded. Here and there a man fell, but was not suffered to +lie long exposed to the fire of the redoubt which, strongly manned, +held them in check midway to the summit. Doggedly their comrades +rescued the wounded and quickly conveyed them to the rear. + +"They've set out their watch-dogs," remarked the general commanding +the assault on that side of the hill, to one of his officers, as he +critically surveyed the formidable defense through the tangled +shrubbery. "Here is a battery we hadn't reckoned on." + +"It was to be expected, sir," responded the officer. "They were sure +to have some strong point we couldn't locate." + +"Yes," grumbled the general; "in such a jumble of foliage and +rocks it would take an eagle's eye to pick out all their miserable +ambuscades." + +"I have no doubt, sir, the men are rested now," ventured the other. + +"No doubt they are," chuckled the general, still studying the +situation, glancing to the right and the left of the redoubt. "The +more fighting they get the more they want. They are not so band-boxy +as they were, but remind me of an old, mongrel dog I once owned. He +wasn't much to look at--but I'll tell you the story later." A sudden +quick decision appearing on his face. Evidently the working of his +mind had been foreign to his words. + +"Saint-Prosper," he said, "I suppose the boys on the other side are +going up all the time? I promised our troops the honor of pulling down +that flag. I'm a man of my word; go ahead and take the batteries +and"--stroking his long gray goatee--"beat Pillow to the top." + +A word; a command; they rushed forward; not a laggard in the ranks; +not a man who shirked the leaden shower; not one who failed to offer +his breast openly and fearlessly to the red death which to them might +come when it would. Unwaveringly over rocks, chasms and mines, they +followed the tall figure of their leader; death underfoot, death +overhead! What would courage avail against concealed mines? Yet like a +pack of hounds that reck naught while the scent is warm, they pressed +forward, ever forward; across the level opening, where some dropped +out of the race, and over the ramparts! A brief struggle; confusion, +turmoil; something fearful occurring that no eye could see in its +entirety through the smoke; afterwards, a great shout that announced +to the palace on the mount the fate of the intermediary batteries! + +But there was sharper and more arduous work to come; this, merely a +foretaste of the last, fierce stand of the besieged; a stand in which +they knew they were fighting for everything, where defeat meant the +second conquest of Mexico! From the batteries the assailants had +captured to the foot of the castle seemed but a little way to them in +their zeal; no one thought of weariness, or the toil of the ascent. +But one determination possessed them--to end it all quickly; to carry +everything before them! Their victory at the redoubt gave them such +sudden, wild confidence that castles seemed no more than ant-hills--to +be trampled on! Instinctively every man felt sure of the day and +already experienced the glory of conquering that historic hill; that +invincible fortress! Over the great valley, so beautiful in its +physical features, so inspiring in its associations, should hang the +stars of the North, with the stars of heaven! + +The scaling ladders were brought up and planted by the storming party; +the first to mount were hurled back, killed or wounded, to the rocks +below, but others took their places; a lodgment was effected, and, +like the water bursting over a dike, a tide of besiegers found +ingress. + +Under a galling fire, with shouts that rang above the noise of rifles, +they drove the masses of the enemy from their guns; all save one, not +a Mexican from his fair skin, who stood confidently beside his piece, +an ancient machine, made of copper and strengthened by bands of iron. +A handsome face; dead to morality, alive to pleasure; the face of a +man past thirty, the expression of immortal one-and-twenty! A figure +from the pages of Ovid, metamorphosed to a gunner of Santa Anna! The +bright radiance from a cloudless sky, the smoke having drifted +westward from the summit, fell upon him and his gun. + +With inscrutable calmness, one hand fondling the breech, he regarded +the fleeting figures and the hoarse-throated pursuers; then, as if to +time the opportunity to the moment, he bent over the gun. + +"I wonder if this first-born can still bark!" he muttered. + +But an instant's hesitation, friend and foe being fairly intermingled, +was fatal to his purpose; the venerable culverin remained silent, and +the gunner met hand-to-hand a figure that sprang from the incoming +host. Simultaneously the rapid firing of a new wave of besiegers from +the other side of the castle threw once more a pall of smoke over the +scene, and, beneath its mantle, the two men were like figures +struggling in a fog, feeling rather than seeing each other's blade, +divining by touch the cut, pass or aggressive thrust. + +"Faugh!" laughed the gunner. "They'll kill us with smoke." + +The discharge of small arms gradually ceased; the fresh breeze again +cleared the crest of the mount, showing the white walls of the +structure which had been so obstinately defended; the valley, where +the batteries now lay silent, having spoken their thundering prologue, +and the alien flag, the regimental colors of the invaders, floating +from the upper walls. Below on the road toward the city, a band of +white across the table land, successive spots of smoke momentarily +appeared and were succeeded, after a considerable interval, by the +rub-a-dub of rifles. From the disenchanting distance the charge of a +body of men, in the attempt to dislodge a party entrenched in a ditch, +lost the tragic aspect of warfare, and the soldiers who fell seemed no +larger than the toy figures of a nursery game. + +With the brightening of the summit to the light of day, eagerly the +two combatants near the copper gun gazed for the first time into each +other's eyes, and, at that trenchant glance, a tremor crossed the +features of the gunner, and his arm, with its muscles of steel, +suddenly became inert, powerless. + +"_Mon Dieu!_--'Tis Ernest--little Ernest!" he exclaimed, wonderingly. + +For all that his opponent's sword, ominously red from the fierce first +assault at the wall, was at his breast, he made no effort to oppose +its threatening point, when a grape-shot, swifter than the blade, +fairly struck the gunner. With blood streaming from his shoulder, he +swayed from side to side, passing his hand before his eyes as one who +questions oracular evidence, and then sank to the earth with an arm +thrown over the tube of copper. Above his bronzed face the light curls +waved like those of a Viking; though his clothes were dyed with the +sanguinary hue and his chest rose and fell with labored breathing, it +was with an almost quizzical glance he regarded the other who stood as +if turned to stone. + +"That was not so easily done, Ernest," he said, not unkindly, "but +surprise broke down my guard." + +"Before God, it was not I!" cried the soldier, starting from a +trance. + +"And if it were!" With his free arm he felt his shoulder. "I believe +you are right," he observed, coolly. "Swords break no bones." + +"I will get a surgeon," said the other, as he turned. + +"What for? To shake his head? Get no one, or if--for boyish days!--you +want to serve me, lend me your canteen." + +Saint-Prosper held it to his lips, and he drank thirstily. + +"That was a draught in an oasis. I had the desert in my throat--the +desert, the wild desert! What a place to meet! But they caught +Abd-el-Kader, and there was nothing for it but to flee! Besides, I am +a rolling stone." + +To hear him who had betrayed his country and shed the blood of his +comrades, characterize himself by no harsher term was an amazing +revelation of the man's character. + +The space around them had become almost deserted; here and there lay +figures on the ground among which might be distinguished a +sub-lieutenant and other students of the military college, the castle +having been both academy and garrison. Their tuition barely over, so +early had they given up their lives beneath the classic walls of their +_alma mater_! The exhilarating cheering and shouting had subsided; the +sad after-flavor succeeded the lust of conquest. + +"Yes," continued the gunner, though the words came with an effort. +"First, it was the desert. What a place to roll and rove! I couldn't +help it for the life of me! When I was a boy I ran away from school; a +lad, I ran away from college! If I had been a sailor I would have +deserted the ship. After they captured the prophet, I deserted the +desert. So, hey for Mexico, a hilly place for a rolling stone!" + +He gasped, held his hand to his shoulder and brought it away covered +with red. But that Saint-Prosper knelt swiftly, sustaining and +supporting him, he would have slid to the ground. He smiled--sweetly +enough--on the stern soldier and placed his moist and stained hand +caressingly on that of his companion. Seeing them thus, it was not +difficult to trace a family likeness--a similarity in their very +dissimilarity. The older was younger; the younger, older. The gunner's +hair was light, his face wild as a gerfalcon beneath; the other's +dark, with a countenance, habitually repressed, but now, at the touch +of that dishonored hand, grown cold and harsh; yet despite the total +difference of expression, the hereditary resemblance could not be +stamped out. Even the smile of the wounded man was singularly like +that of his brother--a rare transformation that seldom failed to +charm. + +"That's my story," he said, smiling now, as though all the problems of +life and death could be thus dismissed. "As the prophet said: 'I have +urged my camel through every desert!' You see I know my Koran well. +But how came you here, Ernest? I thought you were in Africa, +colonizing--us!" + +"It was impossible to stay there long," replied Saint-Prosper, +slowly. + +"There's that cloud of smoke again," muttered the wounded man, +apparently oblivious to the other's response. As he spoke he withdrew +his hand from that of his brother. At that moment the tropic sun was +bathing him in its light and the white walls shone with luster. "No; +it's like the desert; the dark hour before the sand-storm." Upon his +brow the perspiration gathered, but his lip curled half-scornfully, +half-defiantly. "Turn me toward the valley, Ernest. There's more +space; more light!" + +The soldier, an automaton in passive compliance, placed him where he +commanded the outlook cityward; the open plain, protected by the +breast-works of mountains; the distant spires trembling on the +horizon; the lakes which once marked the Western Venice, a city of +perfume and song. Striking a body of water, the sun converted it into +a glowing shield, a silver escutcheon of the land of silver, and, in +contrast with this polished splendor, the shadows, trailing on the +far-away mountains, were soft, deep and velvety. But the freedom of +the outlook afforded the wounded man little comfort. + +"The storm!" he said. + +A change passed over his face, as of a shadow drawn before it. He +groped helplessly with his hand. + +"Feel in my burnoose, Ernest. A bag--around my neck--open it!" + +Saint-Prosper thrust his hand within the coat, shuddering at the +contact with the ebbing life's blood, and drew forth a leather bag +which he placed in the other's trembling fingers. With an effort, +breathing laboriously, and staring hard, as though striving to +penetrate a gathering film, the wounded man finally managed to display +the contents of the bag, emptying them in his palm, where they glinted +and gleamed in the sun's rays. Sapphires, of delicate blue; emeralds +with vitreous luster; opals of brilliant iridescence--but, above all, +a ruby of perfect color and extraordinary size, cut _en cabachon_, and +exhibiting a marvelous star of many rays; the ruby of Abd-el-Kader! + +With a venal expression of delight, the gunner regarded the contents +of the bag, feeling the gems one by one. "The rarest stone--from the +Sagyin hills, Ernest!" he whispered, as his trembling fingers played +with the ruby. + +But even as he fondled it, a great pain crossed his breast; he gripped +his shoulder tight with his free hand, clutching the precious stones +hard in his clenched fist. Thus he remained, how long the other never +knew, panting, growing paler, as the veins that carried life to his +heart were being slowly emptied. + +His head dropped. "How dark!" he murmured. "Like a _m'chacha_ where +the hashish-smokers dream!" + +The younger brother thought his energy was spent when he looked up +sharply. + +"The lamp's out, you Devil Jew!" he cried. "The pipe, too--spawn of +hell!" + +And he dropped back like stone, the gems falling from his hand, which +twitched spasmodically on the ground and then was still. Saint-Prosper +bent over him, but the heart, famished for nourishment, had ceased to +beat; the restless, wayward soul had fled from its tabernacle of dust. +Save for the stain on his breast and the fixedness of his eyes, he +might have been sleeping. + +Mechanically the soldier gathered the sapphires, emeralds and other +gems--flashing testimony of that thankless past--and, leaning +against the wall, gazed afar to the snow-capped volcanoes. Even as he +looked, the vapors arose from the solfataras of the "smoking +mountain" and a vast shower of cinders and stones was thrown into the +air. Unnoticed passed the eruption before the gaze of Saint-Prosper, +whose mind in a torpor swept dully back to youth's roseate season, +recalling the homage of the younger for the elder brother, a +worship as natural as pagan adoration of the sun. From the sanguine +fore-time to the dead present lay a bridge of darkness. With honor +within grasp, deliberately he had sought dishonor, little recking +of shame and murder, and childishly husbanding green, red and blue +pebbles! + +Weighing the stones in his hand now, Ernest Saint-Prosper looked at +them long and bitterly. For these the honor and pride of an old family +had been sold. For these he himself had endured the reflected +disgrace; isolation from comradeship; distrust which had blighted his +military career at the outset. How different had been the reality from +his expectations; the buoyant hopes of youth; the fond anticipation of +glory, succeeded by stigma and stain! And, as the miserable, +perplexing panorama of these later years pictured itself in his brain +he threw, with a sudden gesture, the gems far from him, over the wall, +out toward the valley! + +Like dancing beams of color, they flashed a moment in mid air; then +mingled their hues with the rainbow tints of a falling stream. Lost to +sight, they sank in the crystal waters which leaped with a caressing +murmur toward the table-land; only the tiny spectrum, vivid reminder +of their color, still waved and wavered from rock to rock above a +pellucid pool. + +"I beg your pardon, Colonel," said a voice at his elbow, breaking in +upon his reflections; "are you wounded?" + +With drawn features, the officer turned. + +"No; I am not wounded." + +"The general directs you to take this message to the commanding +general," continued the little aide. "I believe I may congratulate +you, sir, for you will have the honor of bearing the news of the +victory." He handed Saint-Prosper a sealed message. "It's been a +glorious day, sir, but"--gazing carelessly around him--"has cost many +a brave life!" + +"Yes, many a life!" answered the other, placing the message in his +breast and steadfastly regarding for the last time the figure beneath +the gun. + +"We ought to be in the City of Mexico in a day or two, sir," resumed +the aide. "Won't it be jolly though, after forced marches and all that +sort of thing! Fandangos; tambourines; cymbals! And the pulque! What +creatures of the moment we are, sir!" he added, with sudden +thoughtfulness. "'Twill be, after all, like dancing over the graves of +our dear comrades!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A FAIR PENITENT + + +The reception to General Zachary Taylor, on his return from Mexico, +and the inauguration of the carnival combined to the observance of a +dual festival day in the Crescent City. Up the river, past the rice +fields, disturbing the ducks and pelicans, ploughed the noisy craft +bearing "Old Rough and Ready" to the open port of the merry-making +town. When near the barracks, the welcoming cannon boomed, and the +affrighted darkies on the remote plantations shook with dire +forebodings of a Mexican invasion. + +The boat rounded at the Place d'Armes, where, beneath a triumphal arch, +General Taylor received the crown and chaplet of the people--popular +applause--and a salvo of eloquence from the mayor. With flying colors +and nourish of trumpets, a procession of civic and military bodies was +then formed, the parade finally halting at the St. Charles, where the +fatted calf had been killed and the succulent ox roasted. Sounding a +retreat, the veteran commander fell back upon a private parlor to +recuperate his forces in anticipation of the forthcoming banquet. + +From this stronghold, where, however, not all of the enemy--his +friends--could be excluded, there escaped an officer, with: "I'll look +around town a little, General." + +"Look around!" said the commander at the door. "I should think we had +looked around! Well, don't fall foul of too many juleps." + +With a laughing response, the young man pushed his way through the +jostling crowd near the door, traversed the animated corridor, and +soon found himself out on the busy street. Amid the variegated colors +and motley throng, he walked, not, however, in King Carnival's gay +domains, but in a city of recollections. The tavern he had just left +was associated with an unforgotten presence; the stores, the windows, +the thoroughfares themselves were fraught with retrospective +suggestion of the strollers. + +Even now--and he came to an abrupt standstill--he was staring at the +bill-board of the theater where she had played, the familiar entrance +bedecked with bunting and festival inscriptions. Before its classic +portals appeared the black-letter announcement of an act by +"Impecunious Jordan, Ethiopian artist, followed by a Tableau of +General Scott's Capture of the City of Mexico." Mechanically he +stepped within and approached the box office. From the little +cupboard, a strange face looked forth; even the ticket vender of old +had been swallowed up by the irony of fate, and, instead of the +well-remembered blond mustache of the erstwhile seller of seats, a +dark-bearded man, with sallow complexion, inquired: + +"How many?" + +"One," said Saint-Prosper, depositing a Mexican piece on the counter +before the cubby-hole. + +"We've taken in plenty of this kind of money to-day," remarked the +man, holding up the coin. "I reckon you come to town with old Zach?" + +"Yes." The soldier was about to turn away, when he changed his mind +and observed: "You used to give legitimate drama here." + +"That was some time ago," said the man in the box, reflectively. "The +soldiers like vaudeville. Ever hear Impecunious Jordan?" + +"I never did." + +"Then you've got a treat," continued the vender. "He's the best in his +line. Hope you'll enjoy it, sir," he concluded, with the courtesy +displayed toward one and all of "Old Rough and Ready's" men that day. +"It's the best seat left in the house. You come a little late, you +know." And as the other moved away: + +"How different they look before and after! They went to Mexico fresh +as daisies, and come back--those that do--dead beat, done up!" + +[Illustration] + +Passing through the door, Saint-Prosper was ushered to his seat in a +renovated auditorium; new curtain, re-decorated stalls, mirrors and +gilt in profusion; the old restfulness gone, replaced by glitter and +show. Amid changed conditions, the derangement of fixed external form +and outline, the sight of a broad face in the orchestra and the aspect +of a colossal form riveted his attention. This person was neither +stouter nor thinner than before; he perspired neither more nor less; +he was neither older nor younger--seemingly; he played on his +instrument neither better nor worse. Youth might fade, honors take +wing, the face of nature change, but Hans, Gargantuan Hans, appeared +but a figure in an eternal present! Gazing at that substantial +landmark, the soldier was carried back in thought over the long period +of separation to a forest idyl; a face in the firelight; the song of +the katydid; the drumming of the woodpecker. Dreams; vain dreams! They +had assailed him before, but seldom so sharply as now in a place +consecrated to the past. + + "Look out for the dandies, + Girls, beware; + Look out for their blandishments, + Dears, take care! + For they're always ready--remember this!-- + To pilfer from maids an unwilling kiss. + Oh, me! Oh, my! There! There!" (_Imaginary slaps._) + +sang and gesticulated a lady in abbreviated skirts and low-cut dress, +winking and blinking in ironical shyness, and concluding with a +flaunting of her gown, a toe pointed ceilingward, and a lively +"breakdown." Then she vanished with a hop, skip and a bow, reappeared +with a ravishing smile and threw a generous assortment of kisses among +the audience, and disappeared with another hop, skip and a bow, as +Impecunious Jordan burst upon the spectators from the opposite side of +the stage. + +Even the sight of Hans, a finger-post pointing to ways long since +traversed, could not reconcile the soldier to his surroundings; the +humor of the burnt-cork artist seemed inappropriate to the place; his +grotesque dancing inadmissible in that atmosphere once consecrated to +the comedy of manners and the stately march of the classic drama. +Where Hamlet had moralized, a loutish clown now beguiled the time with +some tom-foolery, his wit so broad, his quips were cannon-balls, and +his audience, for the most part soldiers from Mexico, open-mouthed +swallowed the entire bombardment. But Saint-Prosper, finding the +performance dull, finally rose and went out, not waiting for the +thrilling Tableaux of the Entrance into the City of Mexico of a +hundred American troops (impersonated by young ladies in tropical +attire) and the submission of Santa Anna's forces (more young ladies) +by sinking gracefully to their bended knees. + +Fun and frolic were now in full swing on the thoroughfares; +Democritus, the rollicker, had commanded his subjects to drive dull +care away and they obeyed the jovial lord of laughter. Animal spirits +ran high; mischief beguiled the time; mummery romped and rioted. +Marshaled by disorder, armed with drollery and divers-hued banners, +they marched to the Castle of Chaos, where the wise are fools, the old +are young and topsy-turvy is the order of the day. + +As Saint-Prosper stood watching the versicolored concourse swarm by, a +sudden rush of bystanders to view Faith on a golden pedestal, looking +more like Coquetry, propelled a dainty figure against the soldier. +Involuntarily he put out his arm which girded a slender waist; Faith +drove simpering by; the crowd melted like a receding wave, and the +lady extricated herself, breathless as one of the maids in Lorenzo de +Medici's Songs of the Carnival. + +"How awkward!" she murmured. "How--" + +The sentence remained unfinished and an exclamation, "Mr. Saint-Prosper!" +punctuated a gleam of recognition. + +"Miss Duran!" he exclaimed, equally surprised, for he had thought the +strollers scattered to the four winds. + +"Mrs. Service, if you please!" Demurely; at the same time extending +her hand with a faint flush. "Yes; I am really and truly married! But +it is so long since we met, I believe I--literally flew to your +arms!" + +"That was before you recognized me," he returned, in the same tone. + +Susan laughed. "But how do you happen to be here? I thought you were +dead. No; only wounded? How fortunate! Of course you came with the +others. I should hardly know you. I declare you're as thin as a lath +and gaunt as a ghost. You look older, too. Remorse, I suppose, for +killing so many poor Mexicans!" + +"And you"--surveying her face, which had the freshness of morn--"look +younger!" + +"Of course!" Adjusting some fancied disorder of hair or bonnet. +"Marriage is a fountain of youth for"--with a sigh--"old maids. Susan +Duran, spinster! Horrible! Do you blame me?" + +"For getting married? Not at all. Who is the fortunate man?" asked +Saint-Prosper. + +"A minister; an orthodox minister; a most orthodox minister!" + +"No?" His countenance expressed his sense of the incongruity of the +union. Susan one of the elect; the meek and lowly yokemate of--"How +did it happen?" he said. + +"In a perverse moment, I--went to church," answered Susan. "There, I +met him--I mean, I saw him--no, I mean, I heard him! It was enough. +All the women were in love with him. How could I help it?" + +"He must have been very persuasive." + +"Persuasive! He scolded us every minute. Dress and the devil! +I"--casting down her eyes--"interested him from the first. He--he +married me to reform me." + +"Ah," commented the soldier, gazing doubtfully upon Susan's smart +gown, which, with elaborate art, followed the contours of her figure. + +"But, of course, one must keep up appearances, you know," she +continued. "What's the use of being a minister's wife if you aren't +popular with the congregation? At least," she added, "with part of +them!" And Susan tapped the pavement with a well-shod boot and showed +her white teeth. "If you weren't popular, you couldn't fill the +seats--I mean pews," she added, evasively. "But you must come and see +me--us, I should say." + +"Unfortunately, I am leaving to-morrow." + +"To-morrow!" repeated Susan, reflectively. The pupils of her eyes +contracted, something they did whenever she was thinking deeply, and +her gaze passed quickly over his face, striving to read his impassive +features. "So soon? When the carnival is on! That is too bad, to stay +only one day, and not call on any of your old friends! Constance, I am +sure, would be delighted to see you." + +Many women would have looked away under the circumstances, but Susan's +eyes were innocently fixed upon his. Half the pleasure of the +assurance was in the accompanying glance and the friendly smile that +went with it. + +But a quiet question, "Miss Carew is living here?" was all the +satisfaction she received. + +"Yes. Have you not heard? She has a lovely home and an embarrassment +of riches. Sweet embarrassment! Health and wealth! What more could one +ask? Although I forgot, she was taken ill shortly after you left." + +"Ill," he said, starting. + +"Quite! But soon recovered!" And Susan launched into a narration of +the events that had taken place while he was in Mexico, to which he +listened with the composure of a man who, having had his share of the +vagaries of fate, is not to be taken aback by new surprises, however +singular or tragic. Susan expected an expression of regret--by look or +word--over the loss of the marquis' fortune, but either he simulated +indifference or passed the matter by with philosophical fortitude. + +"Poor Barnes!" was his sole comment. + +"Yes; it was very lonely for Constance at first," rattled on Susan. +"But I fancy she will find a woman's solace for that ailment," she +added meaningly. + +"Marriage?" he asked soberly. + +"Well, the engagement is not yet announced," said Susan, hesitatingly. +"But you know how things get around? And the count has been so +attentive! You remember him surely--the Count de Propriac? But I must +be off. I have an appointment with my husband and am already half an +hour late." + +"Don't let me detain you longer, then, I beg." + +"Oh, I don't mind. He's so delightfully jealous when I fail to appear +on the stroke of the clock! Always imagines I am in some misch--but I +mustn't tell tales out of school! So glad to have met you! Come and +see me--do!" + +And Susan with friendly hand-clasp and lingering look, tore herself +away, the carnival lightness in her feet and the carnival laughter in +her eyes. + +"He is in love with her still," she thought, "or he wouldn't have +acted so indifferent!" Her mind reverted to a cold little message she +had received from Constance. "And to think he was innocent after all!" +she continued, mentally reviewing the contents of the letter in which +Constance had related the conversation with the lawyer. "I don't +believe he'll call on her now, though, after--Well, why shouldn't I +have told him what every one is talking about? Why not, indeed?" + +A toss of the head dismissed the matter and any doubts pertaining +thereto, while her thoughts flew from past to present, as a fortress +on a car, its occupants armed with pellets of festival conflict, drove +by amid peals of laughter. Absorbed in this scene of merriment, Susan +forgot her haste, and kept her apostolic half waiting at the +rendezvous with the patience of a Jacob tarrying for a Rachel. But +when she did finally appear, with hat not perfectly poised, her hair +in a pretty disarray, she looked so waywardly charming, he forgave her +on the spot, and the lamb led the stern shepherd with a crook from +Eve's apple tree. + +"As thin as a lath and gaunt as a ghost!" repeated Saint-Prosper, as +the fair penitent vanished in a whirl of gaiety. "Susan always was +frank." + +Smiling somewhat bitterly, he paused long enough to light a cigar, but +it went out in his fingers as he strolled mechanically toward the +wharves, through the gardens of a familiar square, where the wheezing +of the distant steamers and the echoes of the cathedral clock marked +the hours of pleasure or pain to-day as it had tolled them off +yesterday. Beyond the pale of the orange trees with their golden +wealth, the drays were rumbling in the streets and there were the same +signs of busy traffic--for the carnival had not yet become a legal +holiday--that he had observed when the strollers had reached the city +and made their way to the St. Charles. He saw her anew, pale and +thoughtful, leaning on the rail of the steamer looking toward the +city, where events, undreamed of, were to follow thick and fast. He +saw her, a slender figure, earnest, self-possessed, enter the city +gates, unheralded, unknown. He saw her as he had known her in the +wilderness--not as fancy might now depict her, the daughter of a +marquis--a strolling player, and as such he loved best to think of +her. + +Arising out of his physical weakness and the period of inaction +following the treaty of peace, he experienced a sudden homesickness +for his native land; a desire to re-visit familiar scenes, to breathe +the sweet air of the country, where his boyhood had been passed, to +listen to the thunder of the boulevards, to watch the endless, +sad-joyful processions. + +Not far distant from the blossoming, redolent square was the office of +the Trans-Atlantic Steamship Company, where a clerk, with a spray of +jessamine in his coat, bent cordially toward Saint-Prosper as the +latter entered, and, approaching the desk, inquired: + +"The Dauphin is advertised to sail to-morrow for France?" + +"Yes, sir; at twelve o'clock noon." + +"Book me for a berth. Ernest Saint-Prosper," he added, in answer to +the other's questioning look. + +"Very good, sir. Would you like some labels for your baggage? Where +shall we send for it? The St. Charles? Very well, sir. Are you going +to the tableaux to-night?" he continued, with hospitable interest in +one whom he rightly conceived a stranger in the city. "They say it +will be the fashionable event. Good-day." As the prospective passenger +paid for and received his ticket. "A pleasant voyage! The Dauphin is a +new ship and should cross in three weeks--barring bad weather! Don't +forget the tableaux. Everybody will be there." + +The soldier did not reply; his heart had given a sudden throb at the +clerk's last words. Automatically he placed his ticket in his +pocket, and randomly answered the employee's further inquiries for +instructions. He was not thinking of the Dauphin or her new engines, +the forerunner of the modern quadruple-expansion arrangement, but +through his brain rang the assurance: "Everybody will be there." And +all the way up the street, it repeated itself again and again. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"COMUS' MISTICK WITCHERIES" + + +That elusive, nocturnal company, "The Mistick Krewe of Comus," had +appeared--"Comus, deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries"--and +the dwellers in Phantasmagoria were joyfully numerous. More +plentiful than at a modern spectacular performance, reveled gods, +demons and fairies, while the children resembled a flight of +masquerading butterflies. The ball at the theater, the Roman +Veglioni, succeeded elaborate tableaux, the "Tartarus," of the +ancients, and "Paradise Lost," of Milton, in which the "Krewe" +impersonated Pluto and Proserpine, the fates, harpies and other +characters of the representation. In gallery, dress-circle and +parquet, the theater was crowded, the spectacle, one of dazzling +toilets, many of them from the ateliers of the Parisian modistes; a +wonderful evolution of Proserpine's toga and the mortal robes of the +immortal Fates. Picture followed picture: The expulsion from +Paradise; the conference of the Gorgons, and the court of pandemonium, +where gluttony, drunkenness, avarice and vanity were skilfully set +forth in uncompromising colors. + +Availing themselves of the open-house of the unknown "Krewe," a +composite host that vanished on the stroke of twelve, many of "Old +Rough and Ready's" retinue mingled with the gathering, their uniforms, +well-worn, even shabby, unlike the spick and span regimentals from the +_costumier_. With bronzed faces and the indubitable air of campaigns +endured, they were the objects of lively interest to the fair maskers, +nor were themselves indifferent to the complaisance of their +entertainers. Hands, burned by the sun, looked blacker that night, +against the white gowns of waists they clasped; bearded faces more +grim visaged in contrast with delicate complexions; embroidery and +brocade whirled around with faded uniforms; and dancing aigrettes +waved above frayed epaulets and shoulder straps. + +"Loog at 'im!" murmured a _fille à la cassette_, regarding one of +these officers who, however, held aloof from the festivities; a +well-built young man, but thin and worn, as though he, like his +uniform, had seen service. "If he would only carry my trunk!" she +laughed, relapsing into French and alluding to the small chest she +bore under her arm. + +"Or my little white lamb!" gaily added her companion, a shepherdess. + +And they tripped by with sidelong looks and obvious challenge which +the quarry of these sprightly huntresses of men either chose to +disregard or was unconscious of, as he deliberately surveyed his +surroundings with more curiosity than pleasure and absently listened +to a mountebank from "The Belle's Strategem." + +"Who'll buy my nostrums?" cried the buffoon. + +"What are they?" asked Folly, cantering near on a hobby horse. + +"Different kinds for different people. Here's a powder for ladies--to +dispel the rage for intrigue. Here's a pill for politicians--to settle +bad consciences. Here's an eye-water for jealous husbands--it thickens +the visual membrane. Here's something for the clergy--it eliminates +windy discourses. Here's an infusion for creditors--it creates +resignation and teaches patience." + +"And what have you for lovers?" + +"Nothing," answered the clown; "love like fever and ague must run its +course. Nostrums! Who'll buy my nostrums?" + +"Oh, I'm so glad I came!" enthusiastically exclaimed a tall, supple +girl, laden with a mass of flowers. + +"Isn't it too bad, though, you can't polka with some of the military +gentlemen?" returned her companion who wore a toga and carried a +lantern. "Mademoiselle Castiglione wouldn't let you come, until I +promised not to allow you out of my sight." + +"It was lovely of you to take me," she said, "and I don't mind about +the military gentlemen." + +"My dear, if all women were like you, we poor civilians would not be +relegated to the background! I wish, though, I had worn some other +costume. This--ahem, dress!--has a tendency to get between my legs and +disconcert my philosophical dignity. I can understand why Diogenes +didn't care about walking abroad. My only wonder is that everybody +didn't stay in his tub in those days. Don't talk to me about the +'noble Roman!' Why, he wore skirts!" + +"And Monsieur Intaglio lectured to us for an hour to-day about the +wonderful drapery of the ancients!" laughed the girl. "The poetry of +dress, he called it!" + +"Then I prefer prose. Hello!"--pausing and raising his lantern, as +they drew near the officer who had fallen under the observation of the +_fille à la cassette_. "Colonel Saint-Prosper, or set me down for an +ass--or Plato, which is the same thing!" + +"Straws!" said the soldier, as the bard frankly lifted his mask and +tilted it back over his forehead. + +"Glad to see you!" continued the poet, extending his hand. "I haven't +run across you before since the night of the banquet; the début of +Barnes' company you remember? You must have left town shortly +afterward. Returned this morning, of course! By the way, there's one +of your old friends here to-night." + +Saint-Prosper felt the color mount to his face, and even Straws noted +the change. "Who is that?" asked the soldier, awkwardly. + +"Mrs. Service--Miss Duran that was--now one of our most dashing--I +should say, charitable, ladies. Plenty of men at Service's church now. +She's dressed in Watteau-fashion to-night, so if you see any one +skipping around, looking as though she had just stepped from the +Embarkation for the Island of Venus, set her down for the minister's +pretty wife!" + +"And the minister?" asked Saint-Prosper, mechanically. + +"He brought her; he compromised on a Roundhead costume, himself! But +we must be off. _Au revoir_; don't be backward; the ladies are all +military-mad. It may be a field of arms"--casting his glance over the +assemblage of fashionably dressed ladies, with a quizzical smile--"but +not hostile arms! Come, Celestina--Nydia, I mean!" + +And Straws' arm stole about the waist of his companion, as Saint-Prosper +watched them disappearing in the throng of dancers. It was Celestina's +first ball, and after her long training at the Castiglione institute, she +danced divinely. Evidently, too, she was reconciled to the warden's +edict, denying her the freedom of the ball-room, for she showed no +disposition to escape from Straws' watchful care. On the contrary, +though her glance wandered to the wonders around her, they quickly +returned to the philosopher with the lamp, as though she courted the +restraint to which she was subjected. Something like a pang shot +through the soldier's breast as he followed the pair with his gaze; he +seemed looking backward into a world of youth and pleasure, passed beyond +recall. + +"It is useless to deny it! I knew you when I first saw you!" exclaimed +a familiar voice near by, and turning around sharply, the officer +observed approaching a masked lady, graceful of figure and lacking +nothing in the numerical strength of her escort. It was to her that +these words were addressed by an agile man of medium stature who had +apparently penetrated her disguise. The lady, who would have +attracted attention anywhere by her bearing, wore a pardessus of +white gauze, fitting close and bordered with a silver band; the +sleeves, short; the skirt of white gauze and very ample, as the +fashion of the day required; the feet shod in small white silk +"_bottines_"; the hair in bands, ornamented with wild poppies. +Altogether this costume was described by Phazma as "ravishing, the +gown adorning the lady, and the lady the gown, her graces set forth +against the sheen of voluminous satin folds, like those of some +portrait by Sir Joshua or Gainsborough." + +"How could you expect any one not to know you?" continued the speaker, +as this little coterie drew near, their masks a pretext for mystery. +"You may impersonate, but you can not deceive." + +"That is a poor compliment, since you take me for an actress," laughed +the lady. An hilarious outburst from an ill-assorted cluster of +maskers behind them drowned his reply, and the lady and her attendants +passed on. + +Saint-Prosper drew his breath sharply. "She is here, after all," he +said to himself. + +"A nostrum for jilted beaux!" called out a mountebank, seeing him +standing there, preoccupied, alone, at the same time tendering a pill +as large as a plum. A punchinello jarred against him with: "Pardonnez_ +moi, pardie!_" On the perfumed air the music swelled rapturously; a +waltz, warm with the national life of Vienna; the swan song of Lanner! +Softly, sweetly, breathed "Die Schönbrunner;" faster whirled the +moving forms. Eyes flashed more brightly; little feet seemed born for +dancing; cheeks, pale at midday, were flushed with excitement! Why +doesn't he dance, wondered the lady with the white lamb. Carnival +comes but once a year; a mad, merry time; when gaiety should sweep all +cares out of doors! + + "Said Strephon to Chloe: 'For a kiss, + I'll give thee the choice of my flock.' + Said Chloe to Strephon: 'What bliss, + If you'll add to the gift a new smock,'" + +hummed the lively nymph, as she tripped by. + + "Said Chloe to Strephon: 'For a kiss, + I'll return thee the choice of your flock. + Said Strephon to Chloe: 'What bliss, + With it I'll buy Phyllis a new frock,'" + +she concluded, throwing a glance over her shoulder. + +A sudden distaste for the festal ferment, the laughter and merriment; +a desire to escape from the very exuberance of high spirits and cheer +led the soldier to make his way slowly from the ball-room to the +balcony, where, although not removed from the echoes of liveliness +within, he looked out upon the quietude of the night. Overhead +stretched the sky, a measureless ocean, with here and there a silvery +star like the light on a distant ship; an unfathomable sea of ether +that beat down upon him. Radiant and serene, in the boundless calm of +the heavens, the splendent lanterns seemed suspended on stationary +craft peacefully rocked at anchor. Longings, suppressed through months +of absence, once more found full sway; Susan's words were recalled by +the presence of the count. + +Suddenly the song of "Die Schönbrunner" ceased within, and, as its +pulsations became hushed, many of the dancers, an elate, buoyant +throng, sought the balcony. Standing in the shadow near the entrance, +aroused from a train of reflections by this abrupt exodus, the soldier +saw among the other merry-makers, Constance and the count, who passed +through the door, so near he could almost have touched her. + +"Here she is," said the count, as they approached an elderly lady, +seated near the edge of the balcony. "Ah, Madam," he continued to the +latter, "if you would only use your good offices in my behalf! Miss +Carew is cruelty itself." + +"Why, what has she done?" asked the good gentlewoman. + +"Insisted upon deserting the ball-room!" + +"In my day," said the elderly ally of the nobleman, "you could not +drag the young ladies from cotillion or minuet. And the men would stay +till the dawn to toast them!" + +"And I've no doubt, Madam, your name was often on their lips," +returned the count gallantly, who evidently believed in the Spanish +proverb: "Woo the duenna, not the maid; then in love the game's well +played!" + +The ally in his cause made some laughing response which the soldier +did not hear. Himself unseen, Saint-Prosper bent his eyes upon the +figure of the young girl, shadowy but obvious in the reflected light +of the bright constellations. Even as he gazed, her hand removed the +mask, revealing the face he knew so well. In the silence below, the +fountain tinkled ever so loudly, as she stood, half-turned toward the +garden, a silken head-covering around her shoulders; the head outlined +without adornment, save the poppies in her hair. + +Her presence recalled scenes of other days: the drive from the races, +when her eyes had beamed so softly beneath the starry luster. Did she +remember? He dared not hope so; he did not. To him, it brought, also, +harsher memories; yet his mind was filled most with her beauty, which +appeared to gloss over all else and hold him, a not impassive +spectator, to the place where she was standing. She seemed again +Juliet--the Juliet of inns and school-house stages--the Juliet he had +known before she had come to New Orleans, whose genius had transformed +the barren stage into a garden of her own creation. + +And yet something made her different; an indefinable new quality +appeared to rest upon her. He felt his heart beating faster; he was +glad he had come; for the moment he forgot his jealousy in watching +her, as with new wealth of perfume, the languid breeze stirred the +tresses above her pallid, immovable features. But the expression of +confidence with which the count was regarding her, although ostensibly +devoting himself to her companion, renewed his inquietude. + +Had she allowed herself to be drawn into a promised alliance with that +titled roué? Involuntarily the soldier's face grew hard and stern; the +count's tactics were so apparent--flattering attention to the elderly +gentlewoman and a devoted, but reserved, bearing toward the young girl +in which he would rely upon patience and perseverance for the +consummation of his wishes. But certainly Constance did not exhibit +marked preference for his society; on the contrary, she had hardly +spoken to him since they had left the ball-room. Now clasping the iron +railing of the balcony, she leaned farther out; the flowers of the +vine, clambering up one of the supports, swayed gently around her, and +she started at the moist caress on her bare arm. + +"It is cold here," she said, drawing back. + +"Allow me--your wrap!" exclaimed the count, springing to her side with +great solicitude. + +But she adjusted the garment without his assistance. + +"You must be careful of your health--for the sake of your friends!" +Accompanying the words with a significant glance. + +"The count is right!" interposed the elderly gentlewoman. "As he +usually is!" she added, laughing. + +"Oh, Madam!" he said, bowing. "Miss Carew does not agree with you, I +am sure?" Turning to the girl. + +"I haven't given the matter any thought," she replied, coldly. She +shivered slightly, nervously, and looked around. + +At that moment the lights were turned on in the garden--another +surprise arranged by the Mistick Krewe!--illuminating trees and +shrubbery, and casting a sudden glare upon the balcony. + +"Bravo!" said the count. "It's like a _fête-champêtre_! And hear the +mandolins! Tra-la-la-la-la! Why, what is it?" + +She had given a sudden cry and stood staring toward the right at the +back of the balcony. Within, the orchestra once more began to play, +and, as the strains of music were wafted to them, a host of +masqueraders started toward the ball-room. When the inflow of +merry-makers had ceased, bewildered, trembling, she looked with +blanched face toward the spot where the soldier had been standing, but +he was gone. + +At that moment the cathedral clock began to strike--twelve times it +sounded, and, at the last stroke, the Mistick Krewe, one by one began +to disappear, vanishing as mysteriously as they had come. Pluto, +Proserpine, the Fates, fairies and harpies; Satan, Beelzebub; the +dwellers in pandemonium; the aids to appetite--all took their quick +departure, leaving the musicians and the guests of the evening, +including the visiting military, to their own pleasures and devices. +The first carnival had come to a close. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER + + +"Are you the clerk?" A well-modulated voice; a silvery crown of hair +leaning over the counter of the St. Charles; blue eyes, lighted with +unobtrusive inquiry. + +The small, quiet-looking man addressed glanced up. "No," he said; "I +am the proprietor. This"--waving his hand to a resplendent-appearing +person--"is the clerk." + +Whereupon the be-diamonded individual indicated (about whom an entire +chapter has been written by an observing English traveler!) came +forward leisurely; a Brummell in attire; an Aristarchus for taste! +Since his period--or reign--there have been many imitators; but he was +the first; indeed, created the office, and is deserving of a permanent +place in American annals. "His formality just bordered on stiffness," +wrote the interested Briton, as though he were studying some new +example of the human species; "his conversation was elegant, but +pointed, as he was gifted with a cultured economy of language. He +accomplished by inflection what many people can only attain through +volubility." + +"Yes?" he interrogatively remarked, gazing down at the caller in the +present instance. + +"Is Colonel Saint-Prosper stopping here?" + +"Yes." + +"Send this card to his room." + +"Yes?" Doubtfully. + +"Is there any reason why you shouldn't?" + +"There was a military banquet last night," interposed the quiet, +little man. "Patriotism bubbled over until morning." + +"Ah, yes," commented Culver--for it was he--"fought their battles over +again! Some of them in the hospital to-day! Well, well, they suffered +in a glorious cause, toasting the president, and the army, and the +flag, and the girls they left behind them! I read the account of it in +the papers this morning. Grand speech of the bishop; glorious response +of 'Old Rough and Ready'! You are right to protect sleeping heroes, +but I'm afraid I must run the guard, as my business is urgent." + +A few moments later the lawyer, breathing heavily, followed a colored +lad down a crimson-carpeted corridor, pausing before a door upon which +his guide knocked vigorously and then vanished. + +"Colonel Saint-Prosper?" said the lawyer, as he obeyed the voice +within and entered the room, where a tall young man in civilian attire +was engaged in packing a small trunk. "One moment, pray--let me catch +my breath. That lad accomplished the ascent two steps at a time, and, +I fear, the spectacle stimulated me to unusual expedition. We're apt +to forget we are old and can't keep up with boys and monkeys!" + +During this somewhat playful introduction the attorney was studying +the occupant of the room with keen, bright gaze; a glance which, without +being offensive, was sufficiently penetrating and comprehensive to +convey a definite impression of the other's face and figure. The +soldier returned his visitor's look deliberately, but with no surprise. + +"Won't you sit down?" he said. + +Culver availed himself of the invitation. "I am not disturbing you? I +have long known of you, although this is our first meeting." + +"You have then the advantage of me," returned Saint-Prosper, "for +I--" + +"You never heard of me?" laughed the lawyer. "Exactly! We attorneys +are always getting our fingers in every one's affairs! I am acquainted +with you, as it were, from the cradle to the--present!" + +"I am unexpectedly honored!" remarked the listener, satirically. + +"First, I knew you through the Marquis de Ligne." + +Saint-Prosper started and regarded his visitor more closely. + +"I was the humble instrument of making a fortune for you; it was also +my lot to draw up the papers depriving you of the same!" Culver +laughed amiably. "'Oft expectation fails, where most it promises.' +Pardon my levity! There were two wills; the first, in your favor; the +last, in his daughter's. I presume"--with a sudden, sharp look--"you +have no intention of contesting the final disposition? The paternity +of the child is established beyond doubt." + +Artful Culver was not by any means so sure in his own mind that, if +the other were disposed to make trouble, the legal proofs of +Constance's identity would be so easily forthcoming. Barnes was dead; +her mother had passed away many years before; the child had been born +in London--where?--the marquis' rationality, just before his demise, +was a debatable question. In fact, since he had learned Saint-Prosper +was in the city, the attorney's mind had been soaring among a cloud of +vague possibilities, and now, regarding his companion with a most +kindly, ingratiating smile, he added: + +"Besides, when the marquis took you as a child into his household, +there were, I understood, no legal papers drawn!" + +"I don't see what your visit portends," said Saint-Prosper, "unless +there is some other matter?" + +"Just so," returned Culver, his doubts vanishing. "There was a small +matter--a slight commission. Miss Carew requested me to hand you this +message." The visitor now detected a marked change in the soldier's +imperturbable bearing, as the latter took the envelope which the +attorney offered him. "The young lady saw you at the Mistick Krewe +ball last night, and, recognizing an old friend,"--with a slight +accent--"pressed me into her service. And now, having completed my +errand, I will wish you good-morning!" And the lawyer briskly +departed. + +The young man's hand trembled as he tore open the envelope, but he +surveyed the contents of the brief message with tolerable firmness. + + "COLONEL SAINT-PROSPER: Will you kindly call this morning to see + me? + + CONSTANCE CAREW." + +That was all; nothing more, save the address and the date! How long he +remained staring at it with mingled feelings he never knew, but +finally with a start, looked at his watch, thoughtfully regarded the +half-filled trunk, donned his coat and left the room. Several +fellow-officers, the first of the sluggards to appear, spoke to him as +he crossed the hall below, but what they said or what he replied he +could not afterward remember. Some one detained him at the steps, a +gentleman with a longing for juleps, but finally he found himself in a +carriage, driving somewhere, presumably to the address given in the +letter. How long the drive seemed, and yet when the carriage finally +stopped and he had paid his fare, he mentally determined it had been +too short! The driver gazed in surprise after the gentleman, who did +not wait for his change, but, forbearing injudicious comment, gathered +up the reins and drove to the nearest _café_. + +From the carriage the house was some distance, and yet it appeared +very near the gate to the soldier, who dimly realized he was passing +through a garden where were many flowering plants and where the air +was unusually heavy with perfume. Many other details, the construction +of the house, the size of the verandas, passed without attracting his +notice. Soon, however, he was seated in a great room, an apartment of +old-fashioned height and breadth. He felt his heart beating fast. How +long did he sit there? No inconsiderable period, surely. He examined +everything carefully, without carrying a definite impression of +anything to his mind. The large, carved mirror; the quaint decoration +of walls and frieze; the soft colors of the rug that covered the +floor; the hundred and one odd little things in the cabinet near the +chair where he was seated, trifles in ivory, old silver and china; the +pictures, a Van Dyke, Claude, and a few modern masters. After this +interminable, but confused scrutiny of inanimate things, his heart +beat faster still, as a tall figure, robed in white, entered the +room! + +He rose; they regarded each other with mutual constraint; her face had +a bit of color, like the tinge of a rose-leaf; her eyes seemed +agitated beneath the sweeping lashes, a sentiment in ill accord with +the stateliness of her presence. She gave him her hand; he held it he +knew not how long; probably, for the conventional moment. They found +themselves, each in a chair; at ease, yet not at ease; he studying her +face, furtively, yet eagerly; she turning in her fancy the first +strong impression of how gaunt and haggard were his features, bearing +the traces of recent illness! + +"I am glad you came," she began, their eyes meeting once more. + +He bowed. "Mr. Culver brought me your message." + +"I heard that you--it was reported you were dead." + +"I was wounded; that was all, and soon took to the field again." + +The suspense that fell between them was oppressive. + +"You should have let your friends--know," she said at length. + +He looked at her curiously, vivid memories of their last interview +recurring to him. Indecisively she interlaced her fingers, and he, +watching them, wondered why she had sent for him. Suddenly she rose, +walked to the window, and stood, looking out. He, sitting in the dim +light, in a maze of uncertainty, was vaguely conscious of her figure +outlined against the brightness without; of the waving, yellow flowers +of the vines on the veranda. + +"It is long since we have met," he said, awkwardly. + +She did not answer. Had she heard? Yet he did not resent her silence. +If he had ever felt anger for her it had all vanished now. He was only +conscious of regarding her more attentively, as she still remained, +gazing out into the sunlit garden. + +"Much has happened since I saw you," he continued. + +She turned; her eyes were moist; her hand trembled a little against +her dress, but she held her head proudly, as she had always done, and +it was the aspect of this weakness set against strength that appealed +swiftly to him, softening his heart so that he longed to spring to her +side. + +"Yes, much!" she replied. + +Was her voice tremulous, or was it but the thrill of his own heart +which made it seem so? + +"You have been here long?" she asked, still holding back what was on +her mind or blindly endeavoring to approach the subject. + +"Only since yesterday." + +"And you remain some time?" + +"I am leaving to-day--for France." + +At that a touch of color left her face, or was it that a darkening +shadow fell upon the house and garden, momentarily chastening the +outlook? + +"For France?" she repeated. + +Her lips quivered. Something seemed to still the beating of his +heart. + +"Constance--what is it?" he half-whispered. + +She stepped forward suddenly, her hands outstretched. + +"I wronged you!" she cried. "I wronged you. I thought the disgrace was +yours. Oh, do not speak!" she added, passionately. "I have suffered +for it--and now, would you mind--please--leaving me?" + +"You thought the disgrace was mine!" he repeated, slowly. "Not my"--he +broke off abruptly. "And you suffered--for it?" he said, wonderingly. +"Then you--" He arose quickly and approached her, a new expression +transfiguring his bronzed and worn young face. + +Swiftly he sought her glance; her eyes gave irrefutable answer. +Unresistingly, she abandoned herself to his arms, and he felt her +bosom rise and fall with conflicting emotions. Closely he held her, in +the surprise and surpassing pleasure of the moment; then, bending, he +kissed her lips. A wave of color flooded her face, though her eyes +still sought his. But even as he regarded her, the clear, open look +gradually changed, replaced by one of half-perplexity, half-reproach. + +"That night you went away--why did you not defend yourself?" she +asked, finally. + +"I never imagined--any mistake. Besides, what had I to offer? Your +future was bright; your name, on every one's lips!" + +"Did you think you were responsible for another's sins?" + +His dark features clouded. + +"I suppose I had become accustomed to cold looks. In Africa, by some +of my comrades who had an inkling of the story! No matter what I did, +I was his brother! And the bitterest part was that I loved him; loved +him from my boyhood! He was the handsomest, most joyous fellow! Even +when he died in my arms in Mexico my heart could not absolutely turn +from him." + +[Illustration] + +She opened her lips as if to speak, but the shadow on his face kept +her silent. + +"I was weak enough to keep the story from you in the first place--a +foolish reticence, for these matters follow a man to the ends of the +world." + +"Oh," she said, "to think it was I who made you feel this!" + +He took her hand; his grasp hurt her fingers; yet she did not shrink. + +"You showed me a new world," he answered, quickly. "Not the world I +expected to find--where life would hold little of joy or zest--but a +magical world; a beautiful world; yours!" + +She half-hung her head. "But then--then--" + +"It became a memory; bitter-sweet; yet more sweet than bitter!" + +"And now?" + +He did not answer immediately. + +The figure of the count, as he had seen him the night before, had +abruptly entered his mind. Did she understand? She smiled. + +"And now?" + +At her question he dismissed all thought of jealousy. Looking into her +clear, half-laughing eyes, he read of no entangling alliances; without +words from her, he understood. + +"Shall we go into the garden?" she said, and, opening the window, they +stepped out upon the veranda. + +In the sky a single large cloud stretched itself in a dreamy torpor, +too sluggish, apparently to move, while a brood of little clouds +nestled and slept around it. From the window, the count's ally watched +them, among the plants and vines, pausing now and then; their interest +more in themselves than in the liveliest hues or forms that nature +offered. He stood still, regarding his shadow on the path seriously. + +"Nearly noon by the soldier's dial!" he said. + +She pushed back the hair the wind had blown about her brow. + +"My boat sails in an hour," he continued. + +"But--you are not--going--now?" + +"If I stay, it must be--" + +"Forever!" she said. "Forever!" + + * * * * * + +"Have you heard the news?" said Susan to the count. + +"Secular?" drawled the erstwhile emissary. He was in ill-humor, having +called three times on Constance, who had been excused on all these +occasions. + +"Not necessarily," replied she, with the old familiar toss of the +head. "Saint-Prosper has come back, and he's going to marry +Constance!" + +"Eh? What? I don't be--Who told you?" demanded the count, sharply. + +"Well, you needn't take my head off! She did, if you want to know." + +"Miss Carew?" + +"Herself!" + +The nobleman lolled back in his chair, a dark look on his face. Here +were fine hopes gone a-glimmering! + +"_Pardie!_ the creditors will have to wait awhile," he thought. "And +I--I have been a dunce, dancing attendance all these days! I had hoped +to marry wealth and beauty. What did I come over here for? The demned +country's barren of everything!" + +"Isn't it delightful they should meet after such a long time?" rattled +on Susan, gaily. "So romantic! And then they were exactly suited for +each other. Dear me,"--enthusiastically--"I have taken such an +interest in them, I almost feel as if I had brought it all about." + +THE END + + + + +A LIST OF RECENT FICTION OF THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +AN INTERESTING STORY OF FAMILY LIFE. + +THE FIGHTING BISHOP + +By HERBERT M. HOPKINS + +"The Fighting Bishop" is drawn with firm, bold strokes and with a +sufficiently scholarly atmosphere to make the picture life like. There is +wisdom too, in the attitude of the author toward his characters; and the +entire atmosphere of the book is of fine quality. The general accuracy and +vividness of the portraiture are likely to impress everyone. * * * It +contains passages and characterizations that some readers will find it +difficult to forget.--The Hartford Courant. + +The bishop's musical son, Stephen's, obstinate vanity, his irritable +nervous nature, his impatience of advice and his wonderful confidence in +his own genius are admirably brought out in the course of the narrative +and the chapter containing his letters to his brother is one of the best +in the book. It shows his character humorously and without exaggeration, +and this is typical of the whole story. The author sees his personages +with a human sympathetic eye.--New York Sun. + +12 mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis. + + + + +"NOTHING BUT PRAISE" + +LAZARRE + +By MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD + +Glorified by a beautiful love story.--Chicago Tribune. + +We feel quite justified in predicting a wide-spread and prolonged +popularity for this latest comer into the ranks of historical +fiction.--The N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. + +After all the material for the story had been collected a year was +required for the writing of it. It is an historical romance of the better +sort, with stirring situations, good bits of character drawing and a +satisfactory knowledge of the tone and atmosphere of the period +involved.--N. Y. Herald. + +Lazarre, is no less a person than the Dauphin, Louis XVII. of France, and +a right royal hero he makes. A prince who, for the sake of his lady, +scorns perils in two hemispheres, facing the wrath of kings in Europe and +the bullets of savages in America; who at the last spurns a kingdom that +he may wed her freely--here is one to redeem the sins of even those who +"never learn and never forget."--Philadelphia. North American. + +With six Illustrations by André Castaigne + +12 mo. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A VIVACIOUS ROMANCE OF REVOLUTIONARY DAYS + +ALICE of OLD VINCENNES + +By MAURICE THOMPSON + +The Atlanta Constitution says: + +"Mr. Thompson, whose delightful writings in prose and verse have made his +reputation national, has achieved his master stroke of genius in this +historical novel of revolutionary days in the West." + +The Denver Daily News says: + +"There are three great chapters of fiction: Scott's tournament on Ashby +field, General Wallace's chariot race, and now Maurice Thompson's duel +scene and the raising of Alice's flag over old Fort Vincennes." + +The Chicago Times-Herald says: + +"More original than 'Richard Carvel,' more cohesive than 'To Have and To +Hold,' more vital than 'Janice Meredith,' such is Maurice Thompson's +superb American romance, 'Alice of Old Vincennes.' It is, in addition, +more artistic and spontaneous than any of its rivals." + +VIRGINIA HARNED EDITION + +12mo., with six illustrations drawn by F. C. Yohn and a frontispiece in +color by Howard Chandler Christy + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY BY THE "MARCH KING" + +THE FIFTH STRING + +By JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + +The "March King" has written much in a musical way, but "The Fifth +String" is his first published story. In the choice of his subject, as +the title indicates, Mr. Sousa has remained faithful to his art; and the +great public, that has learned to love him for the marches he has made, +will be as delighted with his pen as with his baton. + +"The Fifth String" has a strong and clearly defined plot which shows in +its treatment the author's artistically sensitive temperament and his +tremendous dramatic power. It is a story of a marvelous violin, of a +wonderful love and of a strange temptation. + +A cover, especially designed, and six full-page illustrations by Howard +Chandler Christy, serve to give the distinguishing decorative +embellishments that this first book by Mr. Sousa so richly deserves. + +With Pictures by Howard Chandler Christy + +12 mo. Price, $1.25 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"A NOVEL THAT'S WORTH WHILE" + +THE REDEMPTION OF DAVID CORSON + +By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS + +A Mid-century American Novel of Intense Power and Interest + +The Interior says: + +"This is a book that is worth while. Though it tells of weakness and +wickedness, of love and license, of revenge and remorse in an intensely +interesting way, yet it is above all else a clean and pure story. No one +can read it and honestly ask 'what's the use.'" + +Newell Dwight Hillis, Pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, says; + +"'The Redemption of David Corson' strikes a strong, healthy, buoyant +note." + +Dr. F. W. Gunsaulus, President Armour Institute, says: + +"Mr. Goss writes with the truthfulness of light. He has told a story in +which the fact of sin is illuminated with the utmost truthfulness and the +fact of redemption is portrayed with extraordinary power. There are lines +of greatness in the book which I shall never forget." + +President M. W. Stryker, Hamilton College, says: + +"It is a victory in writing for one whose head seems at last to have +matched his big human heart. There is ten times as much of reality in it +as there is in 'David Harum,' which does not value lightly that admirable +charcoal sketch." + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"THE MERRIEST NOVEL OF MANY, MANY MOONS." + +MY LADY PEGGY GOES TO TOWN + +By FRANCES AYMAR MATHEWS + +The Daintiest and Most Delightful Book of the Season. + +A heroine almost too charming to be true is Peggy, and it were a churlish +reader who is not, at the end of the first chapter, prostrate before her +red slippers.--Washington Post. + +To make a comparison would be to rank "My Lady Peggy" with "Monsieur +Beaucaire" in points of attraction, and to applaud as heartily as that +delicate romance, this picture of the days "When patches nestled o'er +sweet lips at chocolate times."--N. Y. Mail and Express. + +12 mo. Beautifully illustrated and bound. + +Price, $1.25 net + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AS CRISP AND CLEAN CUT AS A NEW MINTAGE." + +THE PUPPET CROWN + +BY HAROLD MacGRATH + +A princess rarely beautiful; a duchess magnificent and heartless; a +villain revengeful and courageous; a hero youthful, humorous, fearless and +truly American;--such are the principal characters of this delightful +story.--Syracuse Post-Standard. + +Harold MacGrath has attained the highest point achievable in recent +fiction. We have the climax of romance and adventure in "The Puppet +Crown."--The Philadelphia North American. + +Superior to most of the great successes.--St. Paul Pioneer Press. + +"The Puppet Crown" is a profusion of cleverness.--Baltimore American. + +Challenges comparison with authors whose names have +become immortal--Chicago American. + +Latest entry in the list of winners.--Cleveland World. + +With illustrations by R. Martine Reay + +12mo. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AN ADMIRABLE SOCIAL STUDY" + +THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN + +By HAROLD BEGBIE + +The purpose of this brilliant story of modern English life is to show that +a human being, well brought-up, carefully trained in the outward +observances of religion, with a keen intellectual perception of the +difference between right and wrong, may still not have goodness, and that +ambition may easily become the dominating force in such a character. So +the book may be called a purpose novel, but in reading it, one no more +thinks of applying so discredited an epithet to it than one would think of +applying it to "Vanity Fair." + +The author possesses an admirable style, clear, unaffected, strong. To the +discriminating public, the book is certain to give far more pleasure than +that public usually gets from a new novel. + +With a Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert + +Cloth, 12 mo. Ornamental, $1.25 Net. + +Postage, 12 Cents + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +FULL OF INCIDENT, ACTION & COLOR + +LIKE ANOTHER HELEN + +By GEORGE HORTON + +Mr. Horton's powerful romance stands in a new field and brings an almost +unknown world in reality before the reader--the world of conflict between +Greek and Turk. + +The island of Crete seems real and genuine after reading this book; not a +mere spot on the map. The tragic and pathetic troubles of this people are +told with sympathetic force. + +Mr. Horton employs a vivid style that keeps the interest alive and many +passages are filled with delicate poetic feeling. + +Things happen and the story moves. The characters are well conceived and +are human and convincing. Beyond question Mr. Horton's fine story is +destined to take high rank among the books of the day. + +With illustrations by C. M. Relyea + +12mo, Cloth bound + +Price, $1.50 + +The Chicago Times-Herald says: + +"Here are chapters that are Stephen Crane plus sympathy; chapters of +illuminated description fragrant with the atmosphere of art." + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"A CHRONICLE OF MARVELS" + +THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON + +By H. G. WELLS + +Author of "The War of the Worlds" and "Tales of Time and Space." + +Mr. Wells writes to entertain and in this tale of the invention of +"cavorite," and the subsequent remarkable journey made to the moon by +its inventor, he has succeeded beyond measure in alternately astounding, +convincing and delighting his readers. Told in a straightforward way, with +an air of ingenuousness that disarms doubt, the story chronicles most +marvelous discoveries and adventures on the mysterious planet. Mr. +Hering's many illustrations are admirable. Altogether the book is one of +the most original and entertaining volumes that has appeared in many a +day. + +Profusely Illustrated by E. Hering + +12mo., cloth, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AN INDIANA LOVE STORY" + +ROSALYNDE'S LOVERS + +By MAURICE THOMPSON + +Author of "Alice of Old Vincennes" + +As Mr. Thompson avers, this is "only a love story," but it is a story of +such sweetness and wholesome life that it will at once claim a permanent +home in our affections. The love of nature, so prominent a characteristic +of Mr. Thompson, is reflected throughout and the thunderstorm and +following gleam of sun, the country garden and southern lake are each in +turn invested with a personality that wins our instant sympathy. Rosalynde +Banderet is winsome and artless, her lovers are human and manly, and her +final happiness is ours. Mr. Peirson's many pictures are entirely worthy. + +With many Illustrations and Decorations by G. Alden Peirson + +Ornamental 12mo. Cloth Bound, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL HISTORICAL NOVEL + +THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED + +By HARRIS DICKSON + +From the Boston Globe: + +"A vigorous tale of France in the old and new world during the reign of +Louis XIV." + +From the Philadelphia Press: + +"As delightfully seductive as certain mint-flavored beverages they make +down South." + +From the Los Angeles Herald: + +"The sword-play is great, even finer than the pictures in 'To Have and To +Hold.'" + +From the San Francisco Chronicle: + +"As fine a piece of sustained adventure as has appeared in recent +fiction." + +From the St. Louis Globe-Democrat: + +"There is action, vivid description and intensely dramatic situations." + +From the Indianapolis News: + +"So full of tender love-making, of gallant fighting, that one regrets +it's no longer." + +Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. Price $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"IN LONDON OF LONG AGO" + +THE FICKLE WHEEL + +By HENRY THEW STEPHENSON + +In this tale of merry England, of the time when Shakespeare jested and Ben +Johnson blustered, Mr. Stephenson has painted for us a picture informing +and above all entertaining. His is not a story of counts and crowns, but +of the ever interesting common people. Without seeming to do so the author +shows us many interesting bits of the life of the day. We go to Paul's +walk, we see Shakespeare play at the Globe theatre and other such glimpses +of old time London are deftly added to our experiences. Throughout the +book is an evanescent charm, a spirit of wholesome gaiety. It is well +worth while. + +With illustrations by C. M. Relyea + +Cloth, Ornamental, 12 mo. Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A FINE STORY OF THE COWBOY AT HIS BEST + +WITH HOOPS of STEEL + +By FLORENCE FINCH KELLY + +"The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy +soul with hoops of steel" + +From the San Francisco Chronicle: + +"Western men and women will read it because it paints faithfully the life +which they know so well, and because it gives us three big, manly fellows, +fine types of the cowboy at his best. Eastern readers will be attracted by +its splendid realism." + +From Julian Hawthorne: + +"For my own part, I finished it all in one day, and dreamt it over again +that night. And I am an old hand, heaven knows." + +From the Denver Times: + +"Mrs. Kelly's characters stand out from the background of the New Mexican +plains, desert and mountain with all the distinctness of a Remington +sketch." + +With six illustrations, in color, by Dan Smith + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"DIFFICULT TO FORGET" + +A FEARSOME RIDDLE + +By MAX EHRMAN + +This mystery story, based on the theory of the arithmetical rhythm of +time, contains much of the same fascination that attaches to the tales of +Poe. Simply told, yet dramatic and powerful in its unique conception, it +has a convincing ring that is most impressive. The reader can not evade a +haunting conviction that this wonderful experiment must in reality have +taken place. Delightful to read, difficult to forget, the book must evoke +a wide discussion. + +With Pictures by Virginia Keep + +12 mo. Cloth, $1.00 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A NOVEL OF EARLY NEW YORK + +PATROON VAN VOLKENBERG + +By HENRY THEW STEPHENSON + +From the New York Press: + +"Many will compare 'Patroon Van Volkenberg,' with its dash, style and +virility, with 'Richard Carvel,' and in that respect they will be right, +as one would compare the strong, sturdy and spreading elm with a slender +sapling." + +The action of this stirring story begins when New York was a little city +of less than 5,000 inhabitants. + +The Governor has forbidden the port to the free traders or pirate ships, +which sailed boldly under their own flag; while the Patroon and his +merchant colleagues not only traded openly with the buccaneers, but owned +and managed such illicit craft. The story of the clash of these +conflicting interests and the resulting exciting happenings is absorbing. + +The atmosphere of the tale is fresh in fiction, the plot is stirring and +well knit, and the author is possessed of the ability to write forceful, +fragrant English. + +From the Brooklyn Standard-Union: + +"The tale is one of vibrant quality. It can not be read at a leisurely +pace. It bears the reader through piratical seas and buccaneering +adventures, through storm and stress of many sorts, but it lands him +safely, and leads him to peace." + +12mo, Illustrated in color by C. M. Relyea + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY OF THE MORGAN RAID, DURING THE WAR OF THE REBELLION + +THE LEGIONARIES + +By HENRY SCOTT CLARK + +The Memphis Commercial-Appeal says: + +"The backbone of the story is Morgan's great raid--one of the most +romantic and reckless pieces of adventure ever attempted in the history of +the world. Mr. Clark's description of the Ride of the Three Thousand is a +piece of literature that deserves to live; and is as fine in its way as +the chariot race from 'Ben Hur.'" + +The Cincinnati Commercial-Tribune says: + +"'The Legionaries' is pervaded with what seems to be the true spirit of +artistic impartiality. The author is simply a narrator. He stands aside, +regarding with equal eye all the issues involved and the scales dip not in +his hands. To sum up, the first romance of the new day on the Ohio is an +eminently readable one--a good yarn well spun." + +The Rochester Herald says: + +"The appearance of a new novel in the West marks an epoch in fiction +relating to the war between the sections for the preservation of the +Union. 'The Legionaries' is a remarkable book, and we can scarcely credit +the assurance that it is the work of a new writer." + +12mo, illustrated, Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY TOLD BY A REAL STORYTELLER + +A SON OF AUSTERITY + +By GEORGE KNIGHT + +Mr. Knight has created a real atmosphere for his men and women to breathe, +and his men and women take deep breaths. They are alive, they are human, +they are real. + +He has a delightful story to tell and knows how to tell it. It is a story +of human life, of possible people in possible situations, living out their +little span of life in that state in which it has pleased God to call +them. + +The reader realizes at once that Mr. Knight is a man who served his seven +years of apprenticeship before opening a shop on his own account. + +The deftness and charm of his literary style, combined with the absorbing +interest of the story, can not but prove a delight to every reader. + +With a frontispiece by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, Cloth. Price, $1.50 + +The Liverpool Mercury says: + +"This is a book far removed from the ordinary mass of featureless +fiction. There is no gainsaying the strength of characterization and the +command of English language." + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +VIGOROUS, ELEMENTAL, DRAMATIC + +A HEART OF FLAME + +The story of a Master Passion + +BY CHARLES FLEMING EMBREE + +Author of "A Dream of a Throne." + +The men and women in this story are children of the soil. Their strength +is in their nearness to nature. Their minds are vigorous, their bodies +powerful, their passions elemental, their courage sublime. They are loyal +in friendship, persistent in enmity, determined in purpose. + +The story is a story of great wrongs and of supreme love. It is done in +black and white, with few strokes, but they are masterly. The shadows at +the back are somber but the value of contrast is appreciated for the vivid +high light in the foreground. + +It is a work of art--powerful, convincing and abiding. Powerful, because +true to life; convincing, for it has the saving touch of humor; and +abiding because love, like "A Heart of Flame," prevails in the end. + +With illustrations by Dan Smith + +12mo. cloth. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29726-8.txt or 29726-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/2/29726/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/29726-8.zip b/29726-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4d6c94 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-8.zip diff --git a/29726-h.zip b/29726-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e42996 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h.zip diff --git a/29726-h/29726-h.htm b/29726-h/29726-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7292115 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/29726-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15179 @@ +<!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 Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; text-indent: 0; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + blockquote {display: block; margin: .75em 5%; font-size: 90%;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em;} + h1,h2,h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em;} + h3 {font-size:1.0em;} + hr.p08 {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 8%;} + hr.p10 {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 10%;} + hr.p10d {border:none; border-top:1px solid black; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 19em; height:3px;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:center;} + + .chsp {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center; width: auto;} + .figtag {height: 1px;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + hr.tb {border: none; border-bottom:1px solid black; width: 33%; margin-top: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px;} + hr.toprule {width: 65%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; clear:both;} + p.center {text-align: center !important;} + p.cg {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0; text-align: left; width: 101%;} + p.ralign {text-align: right !important;} + span.indent2 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 0.8em; display: block; float: left;} + span.indent4 {margin: 0; padding:0; text-indent:0; width: 1.6em; display: block; float: left;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + td.chalgn {text-align:right; margin-top:0; padding-right:1em;} +</style> + +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Strollers + +Author: Frederic S. Isham + +Illustrator: Harrison Fisher + +Release Date: August 19, 2009 [EBook #29726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' width='356' height='550' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<table style='border:none; border:1px solid black; margin:auto; padding:30px;' summary="title page"> +<tr><td> +<div style='margin:10px auto 10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-tpg.png' /> +</div> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2.4em;'>THE STROLLERS</p> +<hr class='p10d' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:60px;font-size:larger;'><i>By</i> FREDERIC S. ISHAM</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:80px;font-size:smaller;'>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>HARRISON FISHER</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:80px;'>INDIANAPOLIS</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:10px;'>PUBLISHERS</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:40px;font-size:smaller;'>Copyright 1902<br />The Bowen-Merrill Company</p> +<hr class='p08' /> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:20px;font-size:smaller;'>March</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:smaller;margin-bottom:40px;'>PRESS OF<br />BRAUNWORTH & CO.<br />BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS<br />BROOKLYN, N. Y.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h1>THE STROLLERS</h1> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.6em;'>CONTENTS</p> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PROLOGUE</span></td> + <td /> + <td valign='top' align='right'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'> </td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE MARQUIS’ HONEYMOON</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#THE_MARQUIS_HONEYMOON'>3</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>BOOK I</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td /> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE TRAVELERS’ FRIEND</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_TRAVELERS_FRIEND'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A NEW ARRIVAL</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_A_NEW_ARRIVAL'>33</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_AN_INCOMPREHENSIBLE_VENTURE'>48</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_GREEN_GROW_THE_RUSHES_O'>59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_A_CONFERENCE_IN_THE_KITCHEN'>72</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_DEPARTURE_OF_THE_CHARIOT'>80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_SOJOURNING_IN_ARCADIA'>87</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>FLIPPING THE SHILLING</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_FLIPPING_THE_SHILLING'>99</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>SAMPLING THE VINTAGES</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_SAMPLING_THE_VINTAGES'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>SEALING THE COMPACT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_SEALING_THE_COMPACT'>122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_THE_QUEST_OF_THE_SOLDIER'>136</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AN ECCENTRIC JAILER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_AN_ECCENTRIC_JAILER'>144</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_THE_COMING_OF_LITTLE_THUNDER'>156</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_THE_ATTACK_ON_THE_MANOR'>172</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A HASTY EXIT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_A_HASTY_EXIT'>178</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_THE_COUNCIL_AT_THE_TOWN_PUMP'>190</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE HAND FERRY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_THE_HAND_FERRY'>203</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>BOOK II</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td /> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_THE_FASTIDIOUS_MARQUIS'>213</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“ONLY AN INCIDENT”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_ONLY_AN_INCIDENT'>226</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AT THE RACES</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_AT_THE_RACES'>234</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>LEAR AND JULIET</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_LEAR_AND_JULIET'>252</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_MEETING_BENEATH_THE_OAKS'>268</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A BLOT IN THE ’SCUTCHEON</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_A_BLOT_IN_THE_SCUTCHEON'>277</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A CYNICAL BARD</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_A_CYNICAL_BARD'>289</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SWEETEST_THING_IN_NATURE'>310</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_A_DEBUT_IN_THE_CRESCENT_CITY'>323</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>LAUGHTER AND TEARS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_LAUGHTER_AND_TEARS'>335</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_THE_PASSING_OF_A_FINE_GENTLEMAN'>344</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>IN THE OLD CEMETERY</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_IN_THE_OLD_CEMETERY'>362</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>AN INCONGRUOUS RÔLE</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_AN_INCONGRUOUS_RLE'>372</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>BOOK III</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' colspan='3'><p style='margin:1em auto 0.5em auto; font-size:125%; text-align:center;'>THE FINAL CUE</p></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'><span style='font-size:0.8em'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td /> + <td /> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_OVERLOOKING_THE_COURTYARD'>387</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>ONLY A SHADOW</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_ONLY_A_SHADOW'>399</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>FROM GARRET TO GARDEN</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_FROM_GARRET_TO_GARDEN'>412</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“THE BEST OF LIFE”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_THE_BEST_OF_LIFE'>420</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE LAWYER’S TIDINGS</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_LAWYERS_TIDINGS'>428</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>THE COUNCIL OF WAR</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_COUNCIL_OF_WAR'>436</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A MEETING ON THE MOUNT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_MOUNT'>450</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>A FAIR PENITENT</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_A_FAIR_PENITENT'>464</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>“COMUS’ MISTICK WITCHERIES”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_COMUS_MISTICK_WITCHERIES'>476</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' class='chalgn'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'>CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_CONSTANCE_AND_THE_SOLDIER'>488</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em;font-size:1.8em;'>PROLOGUE</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></div> +<p style='font-size:1.4em;text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE STROLLERS</p> + +<hr class='p10' /> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>PROLOGUE</p> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='THE_MARQUIS_HONEYMOON' id='THE_MARQUIS_HONEYMOON'></a> +<h3>THE MARQUIS’ HONEYMOON</h3> +</div> +<p>Old Drury Lane rang with applause for the performance +of Madame Carew. Of British-French parentage, +she was a recognized peer among the favorite +actresses on the English stage and a woman whose +attractions of face and manner were of a high order. +She came naturally by her talents, being a descendant +of Madame de Panilnac, famed as an actress, confidante +of Louise-Benedicte, Duchess du Maine, who +originated the celebrated <i>nuits blanches</i> at Sceaux +during the close of Louis XIV’s reign.</p> +<p>The bill for the evening under consideration was +“Adrienne Lecouvreur” and in no part had the actress +been more natural and effective. Her triumph was +secure, for as the prologue says:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Your judgment given––your sentence must remain;<br /> +No writ of error lies––to Drury Lane.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></div> +<p>She was the talk of the day and her praises or deficiencies +were discussed by the scandal-carriers of the +town; the worn-out dowagers, the superannuated +maidens, the “tabernacle gallants,” the male members +of the tea tables and all the coxcombs, sparks and +beaux who haunted the stage door.</p> +<p>The player had every stimulus to appear at her best +on this particular evening, for the audience, frivolous, +volatile, taking its character from the loose, weak +king, was unusually complaisant through the presence +of the first gentleman of Europe. As the last of the +Georges declared himself in good-humor, so every +toady grinned and every courtly flunkey swore in the +Billingsgate of that profanely eloquent period that the +actress was a “monstrous fine woman.”</p> +<p>With rare discretion and spirit had the latter played, +a queenly figure in that ribald, gross gathering. She +had reached the scene where the actress turns upon +her tormentors, those noble ladies of rank and position, +and launches the curse of a soul lashed beyond +endurance. Sweeping forward to confront her adversaries, +about to face them, her troubled glance chanced +to fall into one of the side boxes where were seated a +certain foreign marquis, somewhat notorious, and a +lady of insolent, patrician bearing. The anticipated +action was arrested, for at sight of the nobleman and +his companion, Adrienne swayed slightly, as though +moved by a new overpowering emotion. Only for a +moment she hesitated, then fixing her blazing eyes +upon the two and lifting her arm threateningly, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span> +bitter words flowed from her lips with an earnestness +that thrilled the audience. A pallor overspread the +face of the marquis, while the lady drew back behind +the draperies, almost as if in fear. At the conclusion +of that effort the walls echoed with plaudits; the actress +stood as in a trance; her face was pale, her figure +seemed changed to stone and the light went out of her +eyes.</p> +<p>She fainted and fell and the curtain descended +quickly. The woman by the marquis’ side, who had +trembled at first, now forced a laugh, as she said: +“The trollop can curse! Let us go.” Together they +left the box, the marquis regretting the temerity which +had led him to bring his companion to the theater. +He, too, was secretly unnerved, and, when they entered +the carriage, they seated themselves as far apart +as possible, the marquis detesting the lady and she for +her part disliking him just as cordially.</p> +<p>Next day the critics referred to the scene with glowing +words, while in the coffee houses they discussed +the proposition: Should an actress feel the emotion +she portrays? With a cynical smile the marquis read +the different accounts of the performance, when he +and his companion found themselves in the old stage +coach <i>en route</i> for Brighton. He felt no regret for +his action––had not the Prince of Wales taught the +gentlemen of his kingdom that it was fashionable to +desert actresses? Had he not left the “divine Perdita” +to languish, after snubbing her right royally in Hyde +Park?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span></div> +<p>Disdainfully the lady in the coach regarded her husband +and it was evident that the ties of affection which +bound these two travelers together on life’s road were +neither strong nor enduring. Yet they were traveling +together; their way was the same; their destination––but +that belongs to the future. The marquis had been +relieved in his mind after a consultation with a distinguished +barrister, and, moreover, was pleased at +the prospect of leaving this island of fogs for the sunny +shores of France. The times were exciting; the country, +on the verge of proposed electoral reforms. But +in France the new social system had sprung into existence +and––lamentable fact!––duty towards one’s +country had assumed an empire superior to ancient +devotion toward kings.</p> +<p>To stem this tide and attach himself closely to King +Charles X was the marquis’ ambitious purpose. For +this he had espoused a party in marrying a relative of +the royal princess, thus enhancing the ties that bound +him to the throne, and throwing to the winds <i>his</i> Perdita +whose charms had once held him in folly’s chains. +Did he regret the step? Has ravening aspiration any +compunction; any contrite visitings of nature? What +did the player expect; that he would violate precedence; +overthrow the fashionable maxims of good +George IV; become a slave to a tragi-comic performer +and cast his high destiny to the winds? Had ever a +gentleman entertained such a project? Vows? Witness +the agreeable perjuries of lovers; the pleasing +pastime of fond hearts! Every titled rascallion lied +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span> +to his mistress; every noble blackguard professed to +be a Darby for constancy and was a Jonathan Wild by +instinct. If her ideals were raised so high, the worse +for her; if a farce of a ceremony was regarded as tying +an indissoluble knot––let her take example by the lady +who thought herself the king’s spouse; pish! there +are ceremonies and ceremonies, and wives and wives; +those of the hedge-concealed cottage and those of palace +and chateau!</p> +<p>As the coach sped over the road, the lady by his +side smiled disagreeably from time to time, and my +lord, when he became aware of it, winced beneath her +glance. Had she fathomed his secret? Else why that +eminently superior air; that manner which said as +plainly as spoken words: “Now I have learned what +to do if he should play the tyrant. Now I see a way +to liberty, equality, fraternity!” And beneath the +baneful gleam of that look of enlightenment, my lord +cursed under his breath roundly. The only imperturbable +person of the party was François, the marquis’ +valet, whose impassive countenance was that of a stoic, +apathetic to the foibles of his betters; a philosopher of +the wardrobe, to whom a wig awry or a loosened +buckle seemed of more moment than the derangement +of the marriage tie or the disorder of conjugal affection.</p> +<p>Not long thereafter the player left for America, +where she procured an engagement in New York +City, and, so far as London was concerned, she might +have found rest and retiredness in the waters of Lethe. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span> +Of her reception in the old New York Theater; the +verdict of the phalanx of critics assembled in the +Shakespeare box which, according to tradition, held +more than two hundred souls; the gossip over confections +or tea in the coffee room of the theater––it is +unnecessary to dwell upon. But had not the player +become a voluntary exile; had she not foregone her +former life for the new; had she not found that joy +sometimes begets the bitterest grief, there would have +been no occasion for this chronicle.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:20px;'>BOOK I</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE<br />WILDERNESS</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></div> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_TRAVELERS_FRIEND' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_TRAVELERS_FRIEND'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE TRAVELERS’ FRIEND</h3> +</div> +<p>It was a drizzly day in the Shadengo Valley. A +mist had settled down upon the old inn; lost to view +was the landscape with its varied foliage. Only +the immediate foreground was visible to a teamster +who came down the road––the trees with dripping +branches, and the inn from the eaves of which water +fell to the ground with depressing monotony; the well +with its pail for watering the horses and the log trough +in whose limpid waters a number of speckled trout +were swimming. The driver drew up his horses before +the Travelers’ Friend––as the place was named––and +called out imperatively:</p> +<p>“Hullo there!”</p> +<p>No one appearing, he leaned over and impatiently +rapped on the door with the heavy oak butt-end of +his whip. Still there was no response. Again he +knocked, this time louder than before, and was preparing +for an even more vigorous assault upon the unhospitable +entrance, when the door swung back and the +landlord, a tall, gaunt individual, confronted the driver.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></div> +<p>“Well, I heard ye,” he said testily. “Are ye coming +in or shall I bring it out?”</p> +<p>“Bring it out,” was the gruff response of the disgruntled +teamster.</p> +<p>Shortly afterwards mine host reappeared with a +tankard of generous dimensions. The teamster raised +it; slowly drained it to the bottom; dropped a coin into +the landlord’s hand; cracked his whip in a lively manner +and moved on. The steam from his horses mingled +with the mist and he was soon swallowed up, +although the cheerful snap of his whip could yet be +heard. Then that became inaudible and the boniface +who had stood for a brief space in the doorway, empty +tankard in hand, re-entered the house satisfied that no +more transient patronage would be forthcoming at +present.</p> +<p>Going through an outer room, called by courtesy a +parlor, the landlord passed into an apartment which +served as dining-room, sitting-room and bar. Here +the glow of a wood fire from the well swept hearth +and the aspect of the varied assortment of bottles, +glasses and tankards, gave more proof of the fitness +of the appellation on the creaking sign of the +road-house than appeared from a superficial survey of +its exterior and far from neat stable yard, or from that +chilly, forbidding room, so common especially in American +residences in those days, the parlor. Any doubt +regarding the contents of the hospitable looking bottles +was dispelled by such prominent inscriptions in +gilt letters as “Whisky,” “Brandy” and “Rum.” To +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +add to the effect, between the decanters were ranged +glass jars of striped peppermint and winter-green +candies, while a few lemons suggested pleasing +possibilities of a hot sling, spiced rum flip or Tom +and Jerry. The ceiling of this dining-room was blackened +somewhat and the huge beams overhead gave an +idea of the substantial character of the construction +of the place. That fuel was plentiful, appeared in +evidence in the open fireplace where were burning +two great logs, while piled up against the wall were +many other good-sized sections of hickory.</p> +<p>Seated at a respectful distance from this cheerful +conflagration was a young man of perhaps five-and-twenty, +whose travel-stained attire indicated he had +but recently been on the road. Upon a chair near by +were a riding-whip and hat, the latter spotted with +mud and testifying to the rough character of the road +over which he had come. He held a short pipe to his +lips and blew clouds of smoke toward the fire, while +upon a table, within arm’s length, rested a glass of +some hot mixture. But in spite of his comfortable +surroundings, the expression of his face was not that +of a person in harmony with the Johnsonian conclusion, +“A chair in an inn is a throne of felicity.” His +countenance, well bronzed as a weather-tried trooper’s, +was harsh, gloomy, almost morose; not an unhandsome +face, but set in such a severe cast the observer +involuntarily wondered what experience had +indited that scroll. Tall, large of limb, muscular, as +was apparent even in a restful pose, he looked an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +athlete of the most approved type, active and powerful.</p> +<p>Mine host, having found his guest taciturn, had +himself become genial, and now remarked as he entered: +“How do you find the punch? Is it to your +liking?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” shortly answered the stranger, without raising +his eyes from a moody regard of the fire.</p> +<p>“You’re from France, I guess?” continued the landlord, +as he seated himself on the opposite side of the +fireplace. “Been here long? Where you going?” +Without waiting for an answer to his first question he +exercised his time-honored privilege of demanding any +and all information from wayfarers at the Travelers’ +Friend.</p> +<p>“I say, where you going?” he repeated, turning over +a log and sending a shower of sparks up the flue.</p> +<p>With no change of countenance the guest silently +reached for his punch, swallowed a portion of it, replaced +the glass on the table and resumed his smoking +as though oblivious of the other’s presence. Momentarily +disconcerted, the landlord devoted himself once +more to the fire. After readjusting a trunk of old +hickory on the great andirons and gazing absently for +a moment at the huge crane supporting an iron kettle +of boiling water, mine host tipped back in his chair, +braced his feet against the wall, lighted a vile-smelling +pipe and again returned valiantly to the attack, resolved +to learn more about his guest.</p> +<p>“I hear things are kind of onsettled in France?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +he observed diplomatically, emitting a cloud of smoke. +“I see in a Syracuse paper that Louis Philippe is no +longer king; that he and the queen have fled to England. +Perhaps, now,”––inwardly congratulating himself +on his shrewdness––“you left Paris for political +reasons?”</p> +<p>The stranger deliberately emptied his pipe and thrust +it into his pocket, while the landlord impatiently +awaited the response to his pointed query. When it +came, however, it was not calculated to allay the curiosity +of his questioner.</p> +<p>“Is it your practice,” said the young man coldly, in +slow but excellent English, “to bark continuously at +the heels of your guests?”</p> +<p>“Oh, no offense meant! No offense! Hope none’ll +be taken,” stammered the landlord.</p> +<p>Then he recovered himself and his dignity by drawing +forth a huge wine-colored silk handkerchief, set +with white polka-dots, and ostentatiously and vigorously +using it. This ear-splitting operation having +once more set him up in his own esteem, he resumed +his attentions to the stranger.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know,” he added with an outburst of honesty, +“but what you might be some nobleman in disguise.”</p> +<p>“A nobleman!” said the other with ill-concealed +contempt. “My name is Saint-Prosper; plain Ernest +Saint-Prosper. I was a soldier. Now I’m an adventurer. +There you have it all in a nut-shell.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></div> +<p>The inn-keeper surveyed his guest’s figure with undisguised +admiration.</p> +<p>“Well, you look like a soldier,” he remarked. “You +are like one of those soldiers who came over from +France to help us in the Revolution.”</p> +<p>This tribute being silently accepted, the landlord +grew voluble as his guest continued reserved.</p> +<p>“We have our own troubles with lords, too, right +here in New York State,” he said confidentially. “We +have our land barons, descendants of the patroons and +holders of thousands of acres. And we have our +bolters, too, who are making a big stand against feudalism.”</p> +<p>Thereupon he proceeded to present the subject in +all its details to the soldier; how the tenants were protesting +against the enforcement of what they now +deemed unjust claims and were demanding the abolition +of permanent leaseholds; how they openly resisted +the collection of rents and had inaugurated an aggressive +anti-rent war against tyrannical landlordism. His +lengthy and rambling dissertation was finally broken in +upon by a rumbling on the road, as of carriage wheels +drawing near, and the sound of voices. The noise +sent the boniface to the window, and, looking out, he +discovered a lumbering coach, drawn by two heavy +horses, which came dashing up with a great semblance +of animation for a vehicle of its weight, followed by +a wagon, loaded with diversified and gaudy paraphernalia.</p> +<p>“Some troopers, I guess,” commented the landlord +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span> +in a tone which indicated the coming of these guests +was not entirely welcome to him. “Yes,” he added, +discontentedly, “they’re stage-folk, sure enough.”</p> +<p>The wagon, which contained several persons, was +driven into the stable yard, where it was unloaded of +“drops” and “wings,” representing a street, a forest, a +prison, and so on, while the stage coach, with a rattle +and a jerk, and a final flourish of the driver’s whip, +stopped at the front door. Springing to the ground, +the driver opened the door of the vehicle, and at the +same time two other men, with their heads muffled +against the wind and rain, leisurely descended from +the top. The landlord now stood at the entrance of +the inn, a sour expression on his face. Certainly, +if the travelers had expected in him the traditional +glowing countenance, with the apostolic injunction to +“use hospitality without grudging” writ upon it, they +were doomed to disappointment.</p> +<p>A rustle of skirts, and there emerged from the interior +of the coach, first, a little, dried-up old lady +whose feet were enclosed in prunella boots, with +Indian embroidered moccasins for outside protection; +second, a young woman who hastily made her +way into the hostelry, displaying a trim pair of ankles; +third, a lady resembling the second and who the +landlord afterwards learned was her sister; fourth, +a graceful girl above medium height, wearing one of +those provoking, quilted silk hoods of the day, with +cherry-colored lining, known as “Kiss-me-if-you-dare” +hoods.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></div> +<p>Then followed a dark melancholy individual, the +utility man, whose waistcoat of figured worsted was +much frayed and whose “tooth-pick” collar was the +worse for the journey. He preceded a more natty +person in a bottle-green, “shad-belly” coat, who strove +to carry himself as though he were fashionably dressed, +instead of wearing clothes which no longer could conceal +their shabbiness. The driver, called in theatrical +parlance “the old man,” was a portly personage in a +blue coat with velvet collar and gilt buttons, a few of +which were missing; while the ruffles of his shirt +were in sad plight, for instead of protruding elegantly +a good three or even four inches, their glory had gone +and they lay ignominiously flattened upon the bosom +of the wearer. A white choker rivaled in hue the +tooth-pick collar of the melancholy individual.</p> +<p>The tavern’s stable boy immediately began to remove +the trunks into the main hallway. This overgrown, +husky lad evidently did not share his employer’s disapproval +of the guests, for he gazed in open-eyed +wonder at the sisters, and then, with increasing awe, +his glance strayed to the young girl. To his juvenile +imagination an actress appeared in the glamour of a +veritable goddess. But she had obviously that tender +consideration for others which belongs to humanity, +for she turned to the old man with an affectionate +smile, removing from his shoulders the wet Petersham +overcoat, and, placing it on a chair, regarded him with +a look of filial anxiety. Yet their appearance belied +the assumption of such relationship; he was hearty, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span> +florid and sturdy, of English type, while she seemed a +daughter of the South, a figure more fitting for groves +of orange and cypress, than for this rugged northern +wilderness.</p> +<p>The emotion of the stable boy as he gazed at her, and +the forbidding mood of the landlord were broken in +upon by the tiny old lady, who, in a large voice, remarked:</p> +<p>“A haven at last! Are you the landlord?”</p> +<p>“Yes, ma’am,” testily replied that person.</p> +<p>“I am pleased to meet you, sir,” exclaimed the melancholy +individual, as he extended a hand so cold and +clammy that shivers ran up and down the back of the +host when he took it gingerly. “We are having fine +tragedy weather, sir!”</p> +<p>“A fire at once, landlord!” commanded the would-be +beau.</p> +<p>“Refreshments will be in order!” exclaimed she of +the trim ankles.</p> +<p>“And show me the best room in the house,” remarked +her sister.</p> +<p>Mine host, bewildered by this shower of requests, +stared from one to the other in helpless confusion, but +finally collected his wits sufficiently to usher the company +into the tap-room with:</p> +<p>“Here you’ll find a fire, but as for the best room, +this gentleman”––indicating the reticent guest––“already +occupies it.”</p> +<p>The young man at the fire, thus forced prominently +into notice, arose slowly.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span></div> +<p>“You are mistaken, landlord,” he said curtly, hardly +glancing at the players. “I no longer occupy it since +these ladies have come.”</p> +<p>“Your complaisance does credit to your good nature, +sir,” exclaimed the old man. “But we can not take +advantage of it.”</p> +<p>“It is too good of you,” remarked the elder sister +with a glance replete with more gratitude than the occasion +demanded. “Really, though, we could not think +of it.”</p> +<p>“Thank you; thank you,” joined in the wiry old +lady, bobbing up and down like a miniature figure +moved by the unseen hand of the showman. “Allow +me, sir!” And she gravely tendered him a huge +snuff-box of tortoise shell, which he declined; whereupon +she continued:</p> +<p>“You do not use it? New fashions; new habits! +Though whether for the better is not for me to say.”</p> +<p>She helped herself to a liberal portion and passed +the box to the portly old gentleman. Here the landlord, +in a surly tone, told the stable boy to remove the +gentleman’s things and show the ladies to their rooms. +Before going, the girl in the provoking hood––now +unfastened, and freeing sundry rebellious brown curls +where the moisture yet sparkled like dew––turned to +the old man:</p> +<p>“You are coming up directly? Your stock wants +changing, while your ruffles”––laughing––“are disgraceful!”</p> +<p>“Presently, my dear; presently!” he returned.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></div> +<p>The members of the company mounted the broad +stairway, save the driver of the coach––he of the disordered +ruffles––who wiped his heavy boots on a door +mat and made his way to the fire, where he stood in +English fashion with his coat-tails under his arms, +rubbing his hands and drying himself before the +flames.</p> +<p>“A disagreeable time of year, sir,” he observed to +the soldier, who had returned to his seat before the +table. “Twice on the road we nearly broke down, and +once the wagon dumped our properties in the ditch. +Meanwhile, to make matters worse, the ladies heaped +reproaches upon these gray hairs. This, sir, to the +man who was considered one of the best whips in old +Devonshire county.”</p> +<p>The other did not answer immediately, but regarded +the speaker with the look of one not readily disposed +to make acquaintances. His conclusions were apparently +satisfactory, however, for he presently vouchsafed +the remark:</p> +<p>“You are the manager, I presume?”</p> +<p>“I enjoy that honor,” returned the loquacious +stranger. “But my duties are manifold. As driver +of the chariot, I endure the constant apprehension of +wrecking my company by the wayside. As assistant +carpenter, when we can not find a stage it is my task +to erect one. As bill-poster and license-procurer, +treasurer and stage manager, my time is not so taken +up, sir, as to preclude my going on and assuming a +character.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span></div> +<p>“A life of variety,” observed the young man, politely +if indifferently.</p> +<p>“Yes; full of ups and downs, as the driver of the +property wagon said when we entered this hilly district,” +replied the manager, with the contentment of a +man who has found a snug haven after a hard ride in +a comparatively unbroken country. “Affluence we +may know, but poverty is apt to be our companion.”</p> +<p>To this the other deemed no response necessary and +a silence fell between them, broken only by the simmering +water in the iron kettle, the sputtering of the +sap in the burning logs and the creaking without +of the long balancing pole that suspended the moss-covered +bucket. The wind sighed in the chimney +and the wooing flames sprang to meet it, while the +heart of the fire glowed in a mass of coals between +the andirons.</p> +<p>The old gentleman before the blaze began to outrival +the kettle in steaming; from his coat-tails a thin veil +of mist ascended, his face beaming through the vapor +with benign felicity. Then he turned and toasted +the other side and the kettle reigned supreme until he +thawed once more and the clouds ascended, surrounding +him like Jupiter on the celestial mount. At that +the kettle hummed more angrily and the old gentleman’s +face beamed with satisfaction.</p> +<p>“A snug company, sir,” he said, finally, glowing +upon the impassive face before him, “like a tight ship, +can weather a little bad weather. Perhaps you noticed +our troupe? The old lady is Mrs. Adams. She is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +nearly seventy, but can dance a horn-pipe or a reel with +the best of them. The two sisters are Kate and Susan +Duran, both coquettes of the first water. Our juvenile +man is a young Irishman who thinks much of his +dress and little of the cultivation of mind and manners. +Then,” added the old man tenderly, “there is +my Constance.”</p> +<p>He paused abruptly. “Landlord, a pot of ale. My +throat is hoarse from the mist. Fancy being for hours +on a road not knowing where you are! Your good-fortune, +sir!” Lifting the mug. “More than once +we lurched like a cockle-shell.”</p> +<p>The conversation at this point was interrupted by +the appearance of the juvenile man.</p> +<p>“Mr. Barnes, the ladies desire your company immediately.”</p> +<p>The manager hurriedly left the room and the newcomer +regarded his retiring figure with a twinkle in +his eye. Then he took a turn around the room in +stilted fashion––like one who “carried about with him +his pits, boxes and galleries”––and observed:</p> +<p>“Faith, Mr. Barnes’ couch is not a bed of roses. +It is better to have the fair ones dangling after you, +than to be running at their every beck and call.”</p> +<p>Here he twisted his mustache upward.</p> +<p>“A woman is a strange creature,” he resumed. “If +she calls and you come once, your legs will be busy for +the rest of your natural days.”</p> +<p>He seemed about to continue his observations along +this philosophical line, when the manager appeared in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +much perturbation, approaching the landlord, who, at +the same time, had entered the room from the kitchen.</p> +<p>“The ladies insist that their sheets are damp,” began +the manager in his most plausible manner.</p> +<p>A dangerous light appeared in the other’s eyes.</p> +<p>“It’s the weather, you understand. Not your fault; +bless you, no!”</p> +<p>The landlord’s face became a shade less acrimonious.</p> +<p>“Now, if there was a fire in the room––it is such a +comfortable, cheery room––”</p> +<p>“Sandy!” interrupted the host, calling to the long-armed, +red-handed stable boy, who thrust a shock of +hair through the kitchen door. “Build a fire upstairs.”</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes heaved a sigh of relief and drawing a +chair to the blaze prepared once more to enjoy a well-earned +rest.</p> +<p>By this time the shadows had begun to lengthen in +the room as the first traces of early twilight filled the +valley. The gurgling still continued down the water +pipe; the old sign before the front door moaned monotonously. +An occasional gust of wind, which mysteriously +penetrated the mist without sweeping it aside, +rattled the windows and waved wildly in mid-air a +venturesome rose which had clambered to the second +story of the old inn. The barn-yard appeared even +more dismal because of the coming darkness and the +hens presented a pathetic picture of discomfort as +they tucked their heads under their wet feathers for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +the night, while his lordship, the rooster, was but a +sorry figure upon his high perch, with the moisture +regularly and unceasingly dripping through the roof +of the hen-house upon his unprotected back.</p> +<p>An aroma from the kitchen which penetrated the +room seemed especially grateful to the manager who +smiled with satisfaction as he conjured up visions of +the forthcoming repast. By his Falstaffian girth, he +appeared a man not averse to good living, nor one to +deny himself plentiful libations of American home-brewed +ale.</p> +<p>“Next to actual dining,” observed this past-master +in the art, “are the anticipations of the table. The +pleasure consists in speculation regarding this or that +aroma, in classifying the viands and separating this +combination of culinary odors into courses of which +you will in due time partake. Alas for the poor +stroller when the tavern ceases to be! Already it is +almost extinct on account of the Erie Canal. Only a +short time ago this room would have been crowded +with teamsters of the broad-tired Pennsylvania wagons, +drawn by six or eight horses.”</p> +<p>Again the appetizing aroma from the kitchen turned +the current of his reflections into its original channel, +for he concluded with: “An excellent dinner is in +progress, if my diagnosis of these penetrating fragrances +be correct.”</p> +<p>And it was soon demonstrated that the manager’s +discernment was not in error. There was not only +abundance but quality, and the landlord’s daughter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +waited on the guests, thereby subjecting herself to +the very open advances of the Celtic Adonis. The +large table was laden with heavy crockery, old-fashioned +and quaint; an enormous rotary castor occupied +the center of the table, while the forks and +spoons were––an unusual circumstance!––of silver.</p> +<p>When the company had seated themselves around the +board the waitress brought in a sucking pig, done to +a turn, well stuffed, and with an apple in its mouth. +The manager heaved a sigh.</p> +<p>“The lovely little monster,” said Kate, admiringly.</p> +<p>“Monster!” cried Susan. “Say cherub!”</p> +<p>“So young and tender for such a fate!” exclaimed +Hawkes, the melancholy individual, with knife and +fork held in mid-air.</p> +<p>“But worthy of the bearer of the dish!” remarked +Adonis, so pointedly that the landlord’s daughter, +overwhelmed with confusion, nearly dropped the platter, +miniature porker and all. Whereupon Kate cast +an angry glance at the offender whom “she could not +abide,” yet regarded in a certain proprietary way, +and Adonis henceforth became less open in his advances.</p> +<p>Those other aromas which the manager had mentally +classified took form and substance and were arranged +in tempting variety around the appetizing and well-browned +suckling. There were boiled and baked +hams, speckled with cloves, plates of doughnuts and +pound cake, beet root and apple sauce. Before each +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +of the guests stood a foaming mug of home-brewed +ale that carried with it a palpable taste of the hops.</p> +<p>“There is nothing of the stage repast about this,” +commented the manager.</p> +<p>To which Kate, having often partaken of the conventional +banquet of the theater, waved her hand in +a serio-comic manner toward the <i>pièce de résistance</i> +and observed:</p> +<p>“Suppose, now, by some necromancy our young and +tender friend here on the platter should be changed +to a cleverly fashioned block of wood, painted in imitation +of a roasted porker, with a wooden apple in +his mouth?”</p> +<p>The manager, poising the carving knife, replied:</p> +<p>“Your suggestion is startling. We will obviate the +possibility of any such transformation.”</p> +<p>And he cut the “ambrosian fat and lean” with a firm +hand, eying the suckling steadfastly the while as if +to preclude any exhibition of Hindoo mysticism, while +the buxom lass, the daughter of the boniface, with +round arms bared, bore sundry other dishes from +place to place until the plates were heaped with an +assortment of viands.</p> +<p>“Well, my dear, how are you getting on?” said the +manager to the young actress, Constance, as he helped +himself to the crackle. “Have you everything you +want?”</p> +<p>She nodded brightly, and the stranger who was seated +some distance from her glanced up; his gaze +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +rested on her for a moment and then returned in cold +contemplation to the fare set before him.</p> +<p>Yet was she worthy of more than passing scrutiny. +The gleam of the lamp fell upon her well-turned figure +and the glistening of her eyes could be seen in the +shadow that rested on her brow beneath the crown of +hair. She wore a dark lavender dress, striped with +silk, a small “jacquette,” after the style of the day, +the sleeves being finished with lace and the skirt full +and flowing. Her heavy brown tresses were arranged +in a coiffure in the fashion then prevailing, a portion +of the hair falling in curls on the neck, the remainder +brought forward in plaits and fastened at the top of +the forehead with a simple pearl ornament.</p> +<p>If the young girl felt any interest in the presence of +the taciturn guest she concealed it, scarcely looking +at him and joining but rarely in the conversation. +Susan, on the other hand, resorted to sundry coquetries.</p> +<p>“I fear, sir, that you find our poor company intrusive, +since we have forced you to become one of us?” +she said, toying with her fork, and thereby displaying +a white and shapely hand.</p> +<p>His impassive blue eyes met her sparkling ones.</p> +<p>“I am honored in being admitted to your fellowship,” +he returned perfunctorily.</p> +<p>“Only poor players, sir!” exclaimed Hawkes deprecatingly, +with the regal gesture a stage monarch might +use in setting forth the perplexities of royal pre-eminence.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></div> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-028.jpg' alt='' title='' width='365' height='543' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></div> +<p>“The landlord does not seem to share your opinion?” +continued Susan, looking once more at the stranger.</p> +<p>“As a host he believes in brave deeds, not fair +words,” said Kate, indicating the remains of the repast.</p> +<p>“Peace to his bones!” exclaimed the manager, extending +a hand over the remnants of the suckling.</p> +<p>Here the dark-haired girl arose, the dinner being +concluded. There was none of his usual brusqueness +of manner, as the manager, leaning back in his chair +and taking her hand, said:</p> +<p>“You are going to retire, my dear? That is right. +We have had a hard day’s traveling.”</p> +<p>She bent her head, and her lips pressed softly the +old man’s cheek, after which she turned from the rest +of the company with a grave bow. But as she passed +through the doorway her flowing gown caught upon +a nail in the wall. Pre-occupied though he seemed, +her low exclamation did not escape the ear of the +stranger, and, quitting his place, he knelt at her feet, +and she, with half turned head and figure gracefully +poised, looked down upon him.</p> +<p>With awkward fingers, he released the dress, and +she bowed her acknowledgment, which he returned +with formal deference. Then she passed on and he +raised his head, his glance following her through the +bleak-looking hall, up the broad, ill-lighted staircase, +into the mysterious shadows which prevailed above.</p> +<p>Shortly afterward the tired company dispersed, and +the soldier also sought his room. There he found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +the landlord’s daughter before him with the warming-pan. +She had spread open the sheets of his bed and +was applying the old-fashioned contrivance for the +prevention of rheumatism, but it was evident her mind +was not on this commendable housewifely task, for +she sighed softly and then observed:</p> +<p>“It must be lovely to be an actress!”</p> +<p>Dreamily she patted the pillows, until they were +round and smooth, and absently adjusted the bed, +until there was not a wrinkle in the snow-white counterpane, +after which, like a good private in domestic +service, she shouldered the warming pan with its long +handle, murmured “good-night” and departed, not to +dream of milking, churning or cheese-making, but of +a balcony and of taking poison in a tomb.</p> +<p>Absently the stranger gazed at the books on the +table: “Nutting’s Grammar,” “Adams’ Arithmetic,” +“David’s Tears” and the “New England Primer and +Catechism”––all useful books undoubtedly, but not +calculated long to engross the attention of the traveler. +Turning from these prosaic volumes, the occupant of +the chamber drew aside the curtain of the window +and looked out.</p> +<p>Now the mists were swept away; the stars were +shining and the gurgling had grown fainter in the +pipes that descended from the roof to the ground. +Not far was the dark fringe which marked the forest +and the liquid note of a whippoorwill arose out of the +solitary depths, a melancholy tone in the stillness of +the night. The little owl, too, was heard, his note +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +now sounding like the filing of a saw and again changing +in character to the tinkling of a bell. A dog +howled for a moment in the barn-yard, and then, apparently +satisfied with having given this evidence of +watchfulness, re-entered his house of one room and +curled himself upon the straw in his parlor, after which +nothing more was heard from him.</p> +<p>Drawing the curtains of his own couch, a large, four-posted +affair, sleep soon overpowered the stranger; +but sleep, broken and fitful! Nor did he dream only +of France and of kings running away, of American +land barons and of “bolters.” More intrusive than +these, the faces of the strollers crept in and disturbed +his slumbers, not least among which were +the features of the dark-eyed girl whose gown had +caught as she passed through the doorway.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_A_NEW_ARRIVAL' id='CHAPTER_II_A_NEW_ARRIVAL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>A NEW ARRIVAL</h3> +</div> +<p>The crowing of the cock awakened the French traveler, +and, going to the window, he saw that daylight +had thrown its first shafts upon the unromantic barn-yard +scene, while in the east above the hill-tops spread +the early flush of morning. The watch-dog had left +his one-roomed cottage and was promenading before it +in stately fashion with all the pomp of a satisfied +land-holder, his great undershot jaw and the extraordinary +outward curve of his legs proclaiming an +untarnished pedigree. The hens were happily engaged +in scratching the earth for their breakfast; the +rooster, no longer crestfallen, was strutting in the +sunshine, while next to the barn several grunting, +squealing pigs struggled for supremacy in the trough. +From the cow-shed came an occasional low and soon a +slip-shod maid, yawning mightily, appeared, pail in +hand, and moved across the yard to her early morning +task.</p> +<p>Descending the stairs and making his way to the +barn, the soldier called to Sandy, the stable boy, who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +was performing his ablutions by passing wet fingers +through a shock of red hair, to saddle his horse. The +sleepy lad led forth a large but shapely animal, and +soon the stranger was galloping across the country, +away from the village, now down a gentle declivity, +with the virgin forest on either side, then through a +tract of land where was apparent the husbandry of +the people.</p> +<p>After a brisk pace for some miles, he reined in +his horse, and, leisurely riding in a circuit, returned +on the road that crossed the farming country back of +the tavern. Around him lay fields of rye and buckwheat +sweet with the odor of the bee-hive; Indian corn, +whose silken tassels waved as high as those of Frederick’s +grenadiers’, and yellow pumpkins nestling to +the ground like gluttons that had partaken too abundantly +of mother earth’s nourishment. Intermingling +with these great oblong and ovoid gourds, squashes, +shaped like turbans and many-cornered hats, appeared +in fantastic profusion.</p> +<p>The rider was rapidly approaching the inn, when a +sudden turn in the highway, as the road swept around +a wind-break of willows, brought him upon a young +woman who was walking slowly in the same direction. +So fast was the pace of his horse, and so unexpected +the meeting, she was almost under the trampling feet +before he saw her. Taken by surprise, she stood as if +transfixed, when, with a quick, decisive effort, the +rider swerved his animal, and, of necessity, rode full +tilt at the fence and willows. She felt the rush of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +air; saw the powerful animal lift itself, clear the rail-fence +and crash through the bulwark of branches. She +gazed at the wind-break; a little to the right, or the +left, where the heavy boughs were thickly interlaced, +and the rider’s expedient had proved serious for himself, +but chance––he had no time for choice––had directed +him to a vulnerable point of leaves and twigs. +Before she had fairly recovered herself he reappeared +at an opening on the other side of the willow-screen, +and, after removing a number of rails, led his horse +back to the road.</p> +<p>With quivering nostrils, the animal appeared possessed +of unquenchable spirit, but his master’s bearing +was less assured as he approached, with an expression +of mingled anxiety and concern on his face, the young +girl whom the manager had addressed as Constance.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon for having alarmed you!” he +said. “It was careless, inexcusable!”</p> +<p>“It was a little startling,” she admitted, with a faint +smile.</p> +<p>“Only a little!” he broke in gravely. “If I had not +seen you just when I did––”</p> +<p>“You would not have turned your horse––at such +a risk to yourself!” she added.</p> +<p>“Risk to myself! From what?” A whimsical light +encroached on the set look in his blue eyes. “Jumping +a rail fence? But you have not yet said you have +pardoned me?”</p> +<p>The smile brightened. “Oh, I think you deserve +that.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span></div> +<p>“I am not so sure,” he returned, glancing down at +her.</p> +<p>Slanting between the lower branches of the trees +the sunshine touched the young girl’s hair in flickering +spots and crept down her dress like caressing hands +of light, until her figure, passing into a solid shadow, +left these glimmerings prone upon the dusty road +behind her. The “brides,” or strings of her little +muslin cap, flaunted in the breeze and a shawl of China +crape fluttered from her shoulders. So much of her +dusky hair as defied concealment contrasted strongly +with the calm translucent pallor of her face. The +eyes, alone, belittled the tranquillity of countenance; +against the rare repose of features, they were the +more eloquent, shining beneath brows, delicately +defined but strongly marked, and shaded by long upturned +lashes, deep in tone as a sloe.</p> +<p>“You are an early riser,” he resumed.</p> +<p>“Not always,” she replied. “But after yesterday it +seemed so bright outdoors and the country so lovely!”</p> +<p>His gaze, following hers, traversed one of the hollows. +Below yet rested deep shadows, but upon the +hillside a glory celestial enlivened and animated the +surrounding scene. Scattered houses, constituting the +little hamlet, lay in the partial shade of the swelling +land, the smoke, with its odor of burning pine, rising +lazily on the languid air. In the neighboring field a +farm hand was breaking up the ground with an old-fashioned, +pug-nosed “dirt-rooter;” soil as rich as +that of Egypt, or the land, Gerar, where Isaac reaped +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +an hundred fold and every Israelite sat under the +shadow of his own vine.</p> +<p>Pausing, the husbandman leaned on the handle of +his plow and deliberately surveyed the couple on +the road. Having at the same time satisfied his +curiosity and rested his arms, he grasped the handles +once more and the horses pulled and tugged at the +primitive implement.</p> +<p>While the soldier and the young girl were thus +occupied in surveying the valley and the adjacent +mounds and hummocks, the horse, considering doubtlessly +that there had been enough inaction, tapped the +ground with rebellious energy and tossed his head +in mutiny against such procrastination.</p> +<p>“Your horse wants to go on,” she said, observing +this equine by-play.</p> +<p>“He usually does,” replied the rider. “Perhaps, +though, I am interrupting you? I see you have a play +in your hand.”</p> +<p>“I was looking over a part––but I know it very +well,” she added, moving slowly from the border of +willows. Leading his horse, he followed.</p> +<p>His features, stern and obdurate in repose, relaxed +in severity, while the deep-set blue eyes grew less +searching and guarded. This alleviation became him +well, a tide of youth softening his expression as a wave +smoothes the sands.</p> +<p>“What is the part?”</p> +<p>“Juliana, in ‘The Honeymoon’! It is one of our +stock pieces.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span></div> +<p>“And you like it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes.” Lingering where a bit of sward was set +with field flowers.</p> +<p>“And who plays the duke?” he continued.</p> +<p>“Mr. O’Flariaty,” she answered, a suggestion of +amusement in her glance. Beneath the shading of +straight, black brows, her eyes were deceptively dark, +until scrutinized closely, they resolved themselves into +a clear gray.</p> +<p>“Ah,” he said, recalling Adonis, O’Flariaty’s, appearance, +and, as he spoke, a smile of singular sweetness +lightened his face. “A Spanish grandee with +a touch of the brogue! But I must not decry your noble +lord!” he added.</p> +<p>“No lord of mine!” she replied gaily. “My lord +must have a velvet robe, not frayed, and a sword not +tin, and its most sanguinary purpose must not be to +get between his legs and trip him up! Of course, +when we act in barns––”</p> +<p>“In barns!”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes, when we can find them to act in!”</p> +<p>She glanced at him half-mockingly.</p> +<p>“I suppose you think of a barn as only a place for a +horse.”</p> +<p>The sound of carriage wheels interrupted his reply, +and, looking in the direction from whence +it came, they observed a coach doubling the curve +before the willows and approaching at a rapid pace. +It was a handsome and imposing equipage, with dark +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +crimson body and wheels, preserving much of the +grace of ancient outline with the utility of modern +springs.</p> +<p>As they drew aside to permit it to pass the features +of its occupant were seen, who, perceiving the young +girl on the road––the shawl, half-fallen from her shoulder +revealing the plastic grace of an erect figure––gazed +at her with surprise, then thrust his head from +the window and bowed with smiling, if somewhat +exaggerated, politeness. The next moment carriage +and traveler vanished down the road in a cloud of +dust, but an alert observer might have noticed an eye +at the rear port-hole, as though the person within was +supplementing his brief observation from the side +with a longer, if diminishing, view from behind.</p> +<p>The countenance of the young girl’s companion +retrograded from its new-found favor to a more inexorable +cast.</p> +<p>“A friend of yours?” he said, briefly.</p> +<p>“I never saw him before,” she answered with flashing +eyes. “Perhaps he is the lord of the manor and +thought I was one of his subjects.”</p> +<p>“There are lords in this country, then?”</p> +<p>“Lords or patroons, they are called,” she replied, her +face still flushed.</p> +<p>At this moment, across the meadows, beyond the +fence of stumps––poor remains of primeval monarchs!––a +woman appeared at the back door of the inn with +a tin horn upon which she blew vigorously, the harsh +blasts echoing over hill and valley. The startled swallows +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +and martins arose from the eaves and fluttered +above the roof. The farm hand at the plow released +the handle, and the slip-shod maid appeared in the +door of the cow-shed, spry and nimble enough at +meal time.</p> +<p>From the window of her room Susan saw them returning +and looked surprised as well as a bit annoyed. +Truth to tell, Mistress Susan, with her capacity for +admiring and being admired, had conceived a momentary +interest in the stranger, a fancy as light as it was +ephemeral. That touch of melancholy when his face +was in repose inspired a transitory desire for investigation +in this past-mistress of emotional analysis. But +the arrival of the coach which had passed the couple +soon diverted Susan’s thoughts to a new channel.</p> +<p>The equipage drew up, and a young man, dressed +in a style novel in that locality, sprang out. He wore +a silk hat with scarcely any brim, trousers extremely +wide at the ankle, a waistcoat of the dimensions of +1745, and large watch ribbons, sustaining ponderous +bunches of seals.</p> +<p>The gallant fop touched the narrow brim of his hat +to Kate, who was peeping from one window, and +waved a kiss to Susan, who was surreptitiously glancing +from another, whereupon both being detected, +drew back hastily. Overwhelmed by the appearance +of a guest of such manifest distinction, the landlord +bowed obsequiously as the other entered the tavern +with a supercilious nod.</p> +<p>To Mistress Susan this incident was exciting while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span> +it lasted, but when the dandy had disappeared her attention +was again attracted to Constance and Saint-Prosper, +who slowly approached. He paused with his +horse before the front door and she stood a moment +near the little porch, on either side of which grew +sweet-williams, four-o’clocks and larkspur. But the +few conventional words were scanty crumbs for the +fair eavesdropper above, the young girl soon entering +the house and the soldier leading his horse in the direction +of the stable. As the latter disappeared around +the corner of the tavern, Susan left the window and +turned to the mirror.</p> +<p>“La!” she said, holding a mass of blond hair in one +hand and deftly coiling it upon her little head, “I +believe she got up early to meet him.” But Kate only +yawned lazily.</p> +<p>Retracing his steps from the barn, the soldier +crossed the back-yard, where already on the clothes’ +line evidences of early matutinal industry, a pair of blue +over-alls, with sundry white and red stockings, were +dancing in the breeze. First the over-alls performed +wildly, then the white stockings responded with vim, +while the red ones outdid themselves by their shocking +abandonment, vaunting skyward as though impelled +by the phantom limbs of some Parisian <i>danseuse</i>.</p> +<p>Making his way by this dizzy saturnalia and avoiding +the pranks of animated hosiery and the more ponderous +frolics of over-alls, sheets and tablecloths, Saint-Prosper +entered the kitchen. Here the farm hand +and maid of all work were eating, and the landlord’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +rotund and energetic wife was bustling before the +fireplace. An old iron crane, with various sized pothooks +and links of chain, swung from the jambs at +the will of the housewife. Boneset, wormwood and +catnip had their places on the wall, together with ears +of corn and strings of dried apples.</p> +<p>Bustling and active, with arms bared to the elbow +and white with flour, the spouse of mine host realized +the scriptural injunction: “She looketh well to the +ways of her household.” Deftly she spread the dough +in the baking pan; smoothly leveled it with her palm; +with nice mathematical precision distributed bits of +apple on top in parallel rows; lightly sprinkled it +with sugar, and, lo and behold, was fashioned an honest, +wholesome, Dutch apple cake, ready for the baking!</p> +<p>In the tap-room the soldier encountered the newcomer, +seated not far from the fire as though his +blood flowed sluggishly after his long ride in the +chill morning air. Upon the table lay his hat, and he +was playing with the seals on his watch ribbon, his +legs indolently stretched out straight before him. Occasionally +he coughed when the smoke, exuding from +the damp wood, was not entirely expelled up the +chimney, but curled around the top of the fireplace +and diffused itself into the atmosphere. Well-built, +although somewhat slender of figure, this latest arrival +had a complexion of tawny brown, a living russet, +as warm and glowing as the most vivid of Vandyke +pigments.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span></div> +<p>He raised his eyes slowly as the soldier entered and +surveyed him deliberately. From a scrutiny of +mere physical attributes he passed on to the more important +details of clothes, noting that his sack coat was +properly loose at the waist and that the buttons were +sufficiently large to pass muster, but also detecting that +the trousers lacked breadth at the ankles and that +the hat had a high crown and a broad brim, from +which he complacently concluded the other was +somewhat behind the shifting changes of fashion.</p> +<p>“Curse me, if this isn’t a beastly fire!” he exclaimed, +stretching himself still more, yawning and passing a +hand through his black hair. “Hang them, they might +as well shut up their guests in the smoke-house with +the bacons and hams! I feel as cured as a side of pig, +ready to be hung to a dirty rafter.”</p> +<p>With which he pulled himself together, went to the +window, raised it and placed a stick under the frame.</p> +<p>“They tell me there’s a theatrical troupe here,” he +resumed, returning to his chair and relapsing into its +depths. “Perhaps you are one of them?”</p> +<p>“I have not that honor.”</p> +<p>“Honor!” repeated the new arrival with a laugh. +“That’s good! That was one of them on the road with +you, I’ll be bound. You have good taste! Heigho!” +he yawned again. “I’m anchored here awhile on account +of a lame horse. Perhaps though”––brightening––“it +may not be so bad after all. These players +promise some diversion.” At that moment his face +wore an expression of airy, jocund assurance which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +faded to visible annoyance as he continued: “Where +can that landlord be? He placed me in this kennel, +vanished, and left me to my fate. Ah, here he is at +last!” As the host approached, respectfully inquiring:</p> +<p>“Is there anything more I can do for you?”</p> +<p>“More?” exclaimed this latest guest, ironically. +“Well, better late than never! See that my servant +has help with the trunks.”</p> +<p>“Very well, sir; I’ll have Sandy look after them. +You are going to stay then?” Shifting several bottles +on the bar with apparent industry.</p> +<p>“How can I tell?” returned the newcomer lightly. +“Fate is a Sphynx, and I am not Œdipus to answer +her questions!”</p> +<p>The landlord looked startled, paused in his feigned +employment, but slowly recovering himself, began +to dust a jar of peppermint candy.</p> +<p>“How far is it to Meadtown?” continued the guest.</p> +<p>“Forty odd miles! Perhaps you are seeking the old +patroon manor there? They say the heir is expected +any day”––gazing fixedly at the young man––“at least, +the anti-renters have received information he is coming +and are preparing––”</p> +<p>The sprightly guest threw up his hands.</p> +<p>“The trunks! the trunks!” he exclaimed in accents +of despair. “Look at the disorder of my attire! The +pride of these ruffles leveled by the dew; my wristbands +in disarray; the odor of the road pervading my +person! The trunks, I pray you!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></div> +<p>“Yes, sir; at once, sir! But first let me introduce +you to Mr. Saint-Prosper, of Paris, France. Make +yourselves at home, gentlemen!”</p> +<p>With which the speaker hurriedly vanished and soon +the bumping and thumping in the hall gave cheering +assurance of instructions fulfilled.</p> +<p>“That porter is a prince among his kind,” observed +the guest satirically, wincing as an unusual bang overhead +shook the ceiling. “But I’ll warrant my man +won’t have to open my luggage after he gets through.”</p> +<p>Then as quiet followed the racket above––“So you’re +from Paris, France?” he asked half-quizzically. “Well, +it’s a pleasure to meet somebody from somewhere. +As I, too, have lived––not in vain!––in Paris, France, +we may have mutual friends?”</p> +<p>“It is unlikely,” said the soldier, who meanwhile +had drawn off his riding gloves, placed them on the +mantel, and stood facing the fire, with his back to the +other guest. As he spoke he turned deliberately and +bent his penetrating glance on his questioner.</p> +<p>“Really? Allow me to be skeptical, as I have considerable +acquaintance there. In the army there’s that +fire-eating conqueror of the ladies, Gen––”</p> +<p>“My rank was not so important,” interrupted the +other, “that I numbered commanders among my personal +friends.”</p> +<p>“As you please,” said the last guest carelessly. “I +had thought to exchange a little gossip with you, but––<i>n’importe</i>! +In my own veins flows some of the +blood of your country.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></div> +<p>For the time his light manner forsook him.</p> +<p>“Her tumults have, in a measure, been mine,” he +continued. “Now she is without a king, I am well-nigh +without a mother-land. True; I was not born +there––but it is the nurse the child turns to. Paris +was my <i>bonne</i>––a merry abigail! Alas, her vicious +brood have turned on her and cast her ribbons in the +mire! Untroubled by her own brats, she could extend +her estates to the Eldorado of the southwestern seas.” +He had arisen and, with hands behind his back, was +striding to and fro. Coming suddenly to a pause, he +asked abruptly:</p> +<p>“Do you know the Abbé Moneau?”</p> +<p>At the mention of that one-time subtle confidant +of the deposed king, now the patron of republicanism, +Saint-Prosper once more regarded his companion attentively.</p> +<p>“By reputation, certainly,” he answered, slowly.</p> +<p>“He was my tutor and is now my frequent correspondent. +Not a bad sort of mentor, either!” The +new arrival paused and smiled reflectively. “Only recently +I received a letter from him, with private details +of the flight of the king and vague intimations +of a scandal in the army, lately come to light.”</p> +<p>His listener half-started from his seat and had the +speaker not been more absorbed in his own easy flow +of conversation than in the attitude of the other, he +would have noticed that quick change of manner. Not +perceiving it, however, he resumed irrelevantly:</p> +<p>“You see I am a sociable animal. After being +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span> +cramped in that miserable coach for hours, it is a relief +to loosen one’s tongue as well as one’s legs. Even this +smoky hovel suggests good-fellowship and jollity beyond +a dish of tea. Will you not join me in a bottle +of wine? I carry some choice brands to obviate the +necessity of drinking the home-brewed concoctions of +the inn-keepers of this district.”</p> +<p>“Thank you,” said the soldier, at the same time +rising from his chair. “I have no inclination so early +in the day.”</p> +<p>“Early?” queried the newcomer. “A half-pint of +Chateau Cheval Blanc or Cru du Chevalier, high and +vinous, paves a possible way for Brother Jonathan’s +<i>déjeuner</i>––fried pork, potatoes and chicory!” And +turning to his servant who had meanwhile entered, he +addressed a few words to him, and, as the door closed +on the soldier, exclaimed with a shrug of the shoulders:</p> +<p>“An unsociable fellow! I wonder what he is doing +here.”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_AN_INCOMPREHENSIBLE_VENTURE' id='CHAPTER_III_AN_INCOMPREHENSIBLE_VENTURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE</h3> +</div> +<p>Pancakes, grits, home-made sausage, and, before +each guest, an egg that had been proudly heralded by +the clucking hen but a few hours before––truly a +bountiful breakfast, discrediting the latest guest’s anticipations! +The manager, in high spirits, mercurial +as the weather, came down from his room, a bundle of +posters under his arm, boisterously greeting Saint-Prosper, +whom he encountered in the hall:</p> +<p>“Read the bill! ‘That incomparable comedy, The +Honeymoon, by a peerless company.’ How does that +sound?”</p> +<p>“Attractive, certainly,” said the other.</p> +<p>“Do you think it strong enough? How would ‘unparagoned’ +do?”</p> +<p>“It would be too provincial, my dear; too provincial!” +interrupted the querulous voice of the old lady.</p> +<p>“Very well, Madam!” the manager replied quickly. +“You shall be ‘peerless’ if you wish. Every fence shall +proclaim it; every post become loquacious with it.”</p> +<p>“I was going to the village myself,” said the soldier, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span> +“and will join you, if you don’t mind?” he added suddenly.</p> +<p>“Mind? Not a bit. Come along, and you shall +learn of the duties of manager, bill-poster, press-agent +and license-procurer.”</p> +<p>An hour or so later found the two walking down the +road at a brisk pace, soon leaving the tavern behind +them and beginning to descend a hill that commanded +a view to eastward.</p> +<p>“How do you advertise your performances?” asked +the younger man, opening the conversation.</p> +<p>“By posters, written announcements in the taverns, +or a notice in the country paper, if we happen along +just before it goes to press,” answered Barnes. “In +the old times we had the boy and the bell.”</p> +<p>“The boy and the bell?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” assented Barnes, a retrospective smile overspreading +his good-natured face; “when I was a lad in +Devonshire the manager announced the performance +in the town market-place. I rang a cow-bell to attract +attention and he talked to the people: Ding-a-ling!––‘Good +people, to-night will be given “Love in a +Wood”;’ ding-a-long!––‘to-morrow night, “The Beaux’ +Strategem‘”;’ ding!––‘Wednesday, “The Provoked +Wife”;’ ling!––‘Thursday, ”The Way of the World.”’ +So I made my début in a noisy part and have since +played no rôle more effectively than that of the small +boy with the big bell. Incidentally, I had to clean the +lamps and fetch small beer to the leading lady, which +duties were perfunctorily performed. My art, however, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +I threw into the bell,” concluded the manager +with a laugh.</p> +<p>“Do you find many theaters hereabouts?” asked the +other, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>Barnes shook his head. “No; although there are +plenty of them upon the Atlantic and Southern circuits. +Still we can usually rent a hall, erect a stage and construct +tiers of seats. Even a barn at a pinch makes +an acceptable temple of art. But our principal difficulty +is procuring licenses to perform.”</p> +<p>“You have to get permission to play?”</p> +<p>“That we do!” sighed the manager. “From obdurate +trustees in villages and stubborn supervisors or +justices of the peace in the hamlets.”</p> +<p>“But their reason for this opposition?” asked his +companion.</p> +<p>They were now entering the little hamlet, exchanging +the grassy path for a sidewalk of planks laid lengthwise, +and the peace of nature for such signs of civilization +as a troop of geese, noisily promenading across the +thoroughfare, and a peacock––in its pride of pomp as +a favored bird of old King Solomon––crying from the +top of the shed and proudly displaying its gorgeous +train. Barnes wiped the perspiration from his brow, +as he answered:</p> +<p>“Well, a temperance and anti-theatrical agitation has +preceded us in the Shadengo Valley, a movement originated +in Baltimore by seven men who had been drunkards +and are now lecturing throughout the country. +This is known as the ‘Washington’ movement, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +among the most formidable leaders of the crusade is +an old actor, John B. Gough. But here we are +at the supervisor’s office. I’ll run in and get the license, +if you’ll wait a moment.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper assented, and Barnes disappeared +through the door of a one-story wooden building which +boasted little in its architectural appearance and whose +principal decorations consisted of a small window-garden +containing faded geraniums, and a sign with +sundry inverted letters. The neighborhood of this +far from imposing structure was a rendezvous for many +of the young men of the place who had much leisure, +and, to judge from the sidewalk, an ample supply of +Lone Jack or some other equally popular plug tobacco. +As Saint-Prosper surveyed his surroundings, the Lone +Jack, or other delectable brand, was unceremoniously +passed from mouth to mouth with immediate and surprising +results so far as the sidewalk was concerned. +Regarding these village yokels with some curiosity, the +soldier saw in them a possible type of the audiences to +which the strollers must appeal for favor. To such +hobnails must the fair Rosalind say: “I would kiss +as many of you as had beards that pleased me.” And +the churls would applaud with their cowhide boots, devour +her with eager eyes and––at this point the soldier +found himself unconsciously frowning at his village +neighbors until, with an impatient laugh, he recalled +his wandering fancies. What was it to him whether +the players appeared in city or hamlet? Why should +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +he concern himself in possible conjectures on the fortunes +of these strollers? Moreover––</p> +<p>Here Barnes reappeared with dejection in his manner, +and, treading his way absent-mindedly past the +Lone Jack contingent with no word of explanation to +his companion, began to retrace his steps toward the +hostelry on the hill.</p> +<p>“Going back so soon?” asked the young man in surprise.</p> +<p>“There is nothing to be done here! The temperance +lecturer has just gone; the people are set against plays +and players. The supervisor refuses the license.”</p> +<p>With which the manager relapsed into silence, rueful +and melancholy. Their road ran steadily upward from +the sleepy valley, skirting a wood where the luxuriance +of the overhanging foliage and the bright autumnal +tint of the leaves were like a scene of a spectacular +play. Out of breath from the steepness of the ascent, +and, with his hand pressed to his side, Barnes suddenly +called a halt, seated himself on a stump, his face +somewhat drawn, and spoke for the first time since he +left the hamlet.</p> +<p>“Let’s rest a moment. Something catches me occasionally +here,” tapping his heart. “Ah, that’s better! +The pain has left. No; it’s nothing. The machinery +is getting old, that’s all! Let me see––Ah, yes!” +And he drew a cigar from his pocket. “Perhaps there +lies a crumb of comfort in the weed!”</p> +<p>The manager smoked contemplatively, like a man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +pushed to the verge of disaster, weighing the slender +chances of mending his broken fortunes. But as he +pondered his face gradually lightened with a faint +glimmer of satisfaction. His mind, seeking for a +straw, caught at a possible way out of this labyrinth +of difficulties and in a moment he had straightened up, +puffing veritable optimistic wreaths. He arose buoyantly; +before he reached the inn the crumb of comfort +had become a loaf of assurance.</p> +<p>At the tavern the manager immediately sought mine +host, stating his desire to give a number of free performances +in the dining-room of the hotel. The landlord +demurred stoutly; he was an inn-keeper, not the +proprietor of a play-house. Were not tavern and theater +inseparable, retorted Barnes? The country host +had always been a patron of the histrionic art. Beneath +his windows the masque and interlude were +born. The mystery, harlequinade and <i>divertissement</i> +found shelter in a pot-house.</p> +<p>In a word, so indefatigably did he ply arguments, +appealing alike to clemency and cupidity––the custom +following such a course––that the landlord at length +reluctantly consented, and soon after the dining-room +was transformed into a temple of art; stinted, it +is true, for flats, drops, flies and screens, but at least +more tenable than the roofless theaters of other days, +when a downpour drenched the players and washed +out the public, causing rainy tears to drip from Ophelia’s +nose and rivulets of rouge to trickle down my +Lady Slipaway’s marble neck and shoulders. In this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +labor of converting the dining-room into an auditory, +they found an attentive observer in the landlord’s +daughter who left her pans, plates and platters to +watch these preparations with round-eyed admiration. +To her that temporary stage was surrounded by glamour +and romance; a world remote from cook, scullion +and maid of all work, and peopled with well-born +dames, courtly ladies and exalted princesses.</p> +<p>Possibly interested in what seemed an incomprehensible +venture––for how could the manager’s coffers +be replenished by free performances?––Saint-Prosper +that afternoon reminded Barnes he had returned from +the village without fulfilling his errand.</p> +<p>“Dear me!” exclaimed Barnes, his face wrinkling in +perplexity. “What have I been thinking about? I +don’t see how I can go now. Hawkes or O’Flariaty +can’t be spared, what with lamps to polish and costumes +to get in order! Hum!” he mused dubiously.</p> +<p>“If I can be of any use, command me,” said the soldier, +unexpectedly.</p> +<p>“You!”––exclaimed the manager. “I could not +think––”</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s a notable occupation,” said the other with +a satirical smile. “Was it not the bill-posters who +caused the downfall of the French dynasty?” he added.</p> +<p>“In that case,” laughed Barnes, with a sigh of relief, +“go ahead and spread the inflammable dodgers! Paste +them everywhere, except on the tombstones in the +graveyard.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></div> +<p>Conspicuously before the postoffice, grocery store, +on the town pump and the fence of the village church, +some time later, the soldier accordingly nailed the +posters, followed by an inquisitive group, who read +the following announcement: “Tuesday, ‘The Honeymoon’; +Wednesday, ‘The School for Scandal’; Thursday, +‘The Stranger,’ with diverting specialties; Friday, +‘Romeo and Juliet’; Saturday, ‘Hamlet,’ with a +Jig by Kate Duran. At the Travelers’ Friend. Entrance +Free.”</p> +<p>“They’re going to play after all,” commented the +blacksmith’s wife.</p> +<p>“I don’t see much harm in ‘Hamlet,’” said the supervisor’s +yokemate. “It certainly ain’t frivolous.”</p> +<p>“Let’s go to ‘The Honeymoon’?” suggested an +amorous carl to his slip-slop Sal.</p> +<p>“Go ’long!” she retorted with barn-yard bashfulness.</p> +<p>“Did you ever see ‘The School for Scandal’?” asked +the smithy’s good wife.</p> +<p>“Once,” confessed the town official’s faded consort, +her worn face lighting dreamily. “It was on our wedding +trip to New York. Silas warn’t so strict then.”</p> +<p>Amid chit-chat, so diverting, Saint-Prosper finished +“posting” the town. It had been late in the +afternoon before he had altered the posters and set out +on his paradoxical mission; the sun was declining when +he returned homeward. Pausing at a cross-road, he +selected a tree for one of his remaining announcements. +It was already adorned with a dodger, citing the escape +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +of a negro slave and offering a reward for his apprehension; +not an uncommon document in the North in +those days.</p> +<p>As the traveler read the bill his expression became +clouded, cheerless. Around him the fallen leaves gave +forth a pleasant fragrance; caught in the currents of +the air, they danced in a circle and then broke away, +hurrying helter-skelter in all directions.</p> +<p>“Poor devil!” he muttered. “A fugitive––in hiding––”</p> +<p>And he nailed one of his own bills over the dodger. +As he stood there reflectively the lights began to twinkle +in the village below like stars winking upwards; +the ascending smoke from a chimney seemed a film +of lace drawn slowly through the air; from the village +forge came a brighter glow as the sparks danced from +the hammers on the anvils.</p> +<p>Shaking the reins on his horse’s neck, the soldier +continued his way, while the sun, out of its city of +clouds, sent beams like a searchlight to the church +spire; the fields, marked by the plow; the gaunt +stumps in a clearing, displaying their giant sinews. +Then the resplendent rays vanished, the battlements +crumbled away and night, with its army of shadows, +invaded the earth. As Saint-Prosper approached the +tavern, set prominently on the brow of the hill, all was +solemnly restful save the sign which now creaked in +doleful doldrums and again complained wildly as the +wind struck it a vigorous blow. The windows were +bright from the fireplace and lamp; above the door +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +the light streamed through the open transom upon +the swaying sign and the fluttering leaves of the vine +that clambered around the entrance.</p> +<p>In the parlor, near a deteriorated piano whose yellow +keys were cracked and broken––in almost the seventh +stage of pianodum, <i>sans</i> teeth, <i>sans</i> wire, <i>sans</i> everything––he +saw the dark-eyed girl and reined his horse. +As he did so, she seated herself upon the hair-cloth +stool, pressed a white finger to a discolored key and +smiled at the not unexpected result––the squeak of +decrepitude. While her hand still rested on the board +and her features shone strongly in relief against the +fire like a cameo profile set in bloodstone, a figure approached, +and, leaning gracefully upon the palsied instrument, +bent over her with smiling lips. It was the +grand seignior, he of the equipage with silver trimmings. +If the horseman’s gaze rested, not without interest, +on the pleasing picture of the young actress, it +was now turned with sudden and greater intentness to +that of the dashing stranger, a swift interrogation +glancing from that look.</p> +<p>How had he made his peace with her? Certainly +her manner now betrayed no resentment. While motionless +the rider yet sat in his saddle, an invisible hand +grasped the reins.</p> +<p>“Shall I put up your horse?” said a small voice, and +the soldier quickly dismounted, the animal vanishing +with the speaker, as Saint-Prosper entered the inn. +Gay, animated, conscious of his attractions, the fop +hovered over the young girl, an all-pervading Hyperion, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +with faultless ruffles, white hands, and voice +softly modulated. That evening the soldier played +piquet with the wiry old lady, losing four shillings to +that antiquated gamester, and, when he had paid the +stakes, the young girl was gone and the buoyant beau +had sought diversion in his cups.</p> +<p>“Strike me,” muttered the last named personage, +“the little stroller has spirit. How her eyes flashed +when I first approached her! It required some tact +and acting to make her believe I took her for some +one else on the road. Not such an easy conquest as I +thought, although I imagine I have put that adventurer’s +nose out of joint. But why should I waste time +here? Curse it, just to cut that fellow out! Landlord!”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” answered the host behind the bar, where +he had been quietly dozing on a stool with his back +against the wall.</p> +<p>“Do you think my horse will be fit for use to-morrow +morning?”</p> +<p>“The swelling has gone down, sir, and perhaps, +with care––”</p> +<p>“Perhaps! I’ll take no chances. Hang the nag, +but I must make the best of it! See that my bed is +well warmed, and”––rising––“don’t call me in the +morning. I’ll get up when I please. Tell my man +to come up at once––I suppose he’s out with the +kitchen wenches. I have some orders to give him for +the morning. Stay––send up a lamp, and––well, I +believe that’s all for now!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_GREEN_GROW_THE_RUSHES_O' id='CHAPTER_IV_GREEN_GROW_THE_RUSHES_O'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>“GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!”</h3> +</div> +<p>So well advertised in the village had been the theatrical +company and so greatly had the crusade against +the play and players whetted public curiosity that on +the evening of the first performance every bench in +the dining-room––auditorium––of the tavern had an +occupant, while in the rear the standing room was +filled by the overflow. Upon the counter of the bar +were seated a dozen or more men, including the +schoolmaster, an itinerant pedagogue who “boarded +around” and received his pay in farm products, and +the village lawyer, attired in a claret-colored frock +coat, who often was given a pig for a retainer, or +knotty wood, unfit for rails.</p> +<p>From his place, well to the front, the owner of the +private equipage surveyed the audience with considerable +amusement and complacency. He was fastidiously +dressed in double-breasted waistcoat of figured +silk, loosely fitting trousers, fawn-colored kid gloves, +light pumps and silk hose. Narrow ruffles edged his +wristbands which were fastened with link buttons, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span> +while the lining of his evening coat was of immaculate +white satin. As he gazed around upon a scene at +once novel and incongruous, he took from his pocket +a little gold case, bearing an ivory miniature, and, +with the eyes of his neighbors bent expectantly upon +him, extracted therefrom a small, white cylinder.</p> +<p>“What may that be, mister?” inquired an inquisitive +rustic, placing his hand on the other’s shoulder.</p> +<p>The latter drew back as if resenting that familiar +touch, and, by way of answer, poised the cylinder in a +tiny holder and deliberately lighted it, to the amazement +of his questioner. Cigarettes were then unknown +in that part of the state and the owner of the +coach enjoyed the dubious distinction of being the first +to introduce them there. “Since which time,” says +Chronicler Barnes in his memoirs, “their use and +abuse has, I believe, extended.”</p> +<p>The lighting of the aboriginal American cigarette +drew general attention to the smoker and the doctor, +not a man of modern small pills, but a liberal dispenser +of calomel, jalap, castor-oil and quinine, whispered +to the landlord:</p> +<p>“Azeriah, who might he be?”</p> +<p>“The heir of the patroon estate, Ezekiel. I found +the name on his trunks: ‘Edward Mauville.’”</p> +<p>“Sho! Going to take possession at the manor?”</p> +<p>“He cal’lates to, I guess, ef he can!”</p> +<p>“Yes; ef he can!” significantly repeated the doctor. +“So this is the foreign heir? He’s got wristbands +like a woman and hands just as small. Wears gloves +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +like my darter when she goes to meeting-house! And +silk socks! Why, the old patroon didn’t wear none +at all, and corduroy was good enough for him, they +say. Wonder how the barn-burners will take to the +silk socks? Who’s the other stranger, Azeriah?” +Indicating with his thumb the soldier, who, standing +against a window casement in the rear of the room, +was by his height a conspicuous figure in the gathering.</p> +<p>“I don’t exactly know, Ezekiel,” replied the landlord, +regretfully. “Not that I didn’t try to find out,” +he added honestly, “but he was so close, I couldn’t get +nothing from him. He’s from Paris, France; may be +Louis Philippe himself, for all I know.”</p> +<p>“No; he ain’t Louis Philippe,” returned the doctor +with decision, “’cause I seen his likeness in the magazine.”</p> +<p>“Might be the dolphin then,” suggested the boniface. +“He’s so mighty mysterious.”</p> +<p>“Dolphin!” retorted the other contemptuously. +“There ain’t no dolphin. There hasn’t been no dolphin +since the French Revolution.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I didn’t know but there might a been,” said +the landlord vaguely.</p> +<p>From mouth to mouth the information, gleaned by +the village doctor, was circulated; speculation had been +rife ever since the demise of the last patroon regarding +his successor, and, although the locality was beyond +the furthermost reach of that land-holder, their interest +was none the less keen. The old master of the manor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +had been like a myth, much spoken of, never seen +without the boundaries of his acres; but the new lord +was a reality, a creditable creation of tailor, hatter, +hosier, cobbler––which trades had not flourished under +the old master who bought his clothes, cap and boots +at a country store, owned by himself. Anticipation of +the theatrical performance was thus relieved in a measure +by the presence of the heir, but the delay, incident +to a first night on an improvised stage, was so unusual +that the audience at length began to evince signs of +restlessness.</p> +<p>Finally, however, when the landlord’s daughter had +gazed what seemed to her an interminable period upon +the lady and the swan, the lake and the greyhound, +painted on the curtain, this picture vanished by degrees, +with an exhilarating creaking of the rollers, and +was succeeded by the representation of a room in a +cottage. The scenery, painted in distemper and not +susceptible to wind or weather, had manifold uses, reappearing +later in the performance as a nobleman’s +palace, supplemented, it is true, by a well-worn carpet +to indicate ducal luxury.</p> +<p>Some trifling changes––concessions to public opinion––were +made in the play, notably in the scene where +the duke, with ready hospitality, offers wine to the +rustic Lopez. In Barnes’ expurgated, “Washingtonian” +version (be not shocked, O spirit of good Master +Tobin!) the countryman responded reprovingly: “Fie, +my noble Duke! Have you no water from the well?” +An answer diametrically opposed to the tendencies of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span> +the sack-guzzling, roistering, madcap playwrights of +that early period!</p> +<p>On the whole the representation was well-balanced, +with few weak spots in the acting for fault finding, +even from a more captious gathering. In the costumes, +it is true, the carping observer might have detected +some flaws; notably in Adonis, a composite fashion +plate, who strutted about in the large boots of the Low +Countries, topped with English trunk hose of 1550; +his hand upon the long rapier of Charles II, while a +periwig and hat of William III crowned his empty +pate!</p> +<p>Kate was Volante; not Tobin’s Volante, but one +fashioned out of her own characteristics; supine, but +shapely; heavy, but handsome; slow, but specious. +Susan, with hair escaping in roguish curls beneath her +little cap; her taper waist encompassed by a page’s +tunic; the trim contour of her figure frankly revealed +by her vestment, was truly a lad “dressed up to cozen” +any lover who preferred his friend and his bottle to his +mistress. Merry as a sand-boy she danced about in +russet boots that came to the knee; lithe and lissome +in the full swing of immunity from skirts, mantle and +petticoats!</p> +<p>Conscious that his identity had been divined, and +relishing, perhaps, the effect of its discovery, the +young patroon gazed languidly at the players, until +the entrance of Constance as Juliana, when he forgot +the pleasing sensations of self-thought, in contemplation +of the actress. He remarked a girlish form of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +much grace, attired in an attractive gown of white +satin and silver, as became a bride, with train and low +shimmering bodice, revealing the round arms and +shoulders which arose ivory-like in whiteness. Instead +of the customary feathers and other ornaments +of the period, specified in the text of the play, roses +alone softened the effect of her dark hair. Very different +she appeared in this picturesque Spanish attire +from the lady of the lane, with the coquettish cap of +muslin and its “brides,” or strings.</p> +<p>The light that burned within shone from her eyes, +proud yet gay; it lurked in the corners of her mouth, +where gravity followed merriment, as silence follows +laughter when the brook sweeps from the purling +stones to the deeper pools. Her art was unconscious +of itself and scene succeeded scene with a natural +charm, revealing unexpected resources, from pathos to +sorrow; from vanity to humility; from scorn to love +awakened. And, when the transition did come, every +pose spoke of the quickening heart; her movements +proclaimed the golden fetters; passion shone in her +glances, defiant though willing, lofty though humble, +joyous though shy.</p> +<p>Was it the heat from the lamps?––but Mauville’s +brow became flushed; his buoyancy seemed gross and +brutal; desire lurked in his lively glances; Pan gleamed +from the curls of Hyperion!</p> +<p>The play jogged on its blithesome course to its +wonted end; the duke delivered the excellent homily,</p> +<p class='center'> “A gentle wife<br /> +Is still the sterling comfort of a man’s life,”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span></div> +<p>and the well-pleased audience were preparing to leave +when Barnes, in a drab jacket and trunks, trimmed +with green ribbon bows, came forward like the clown +in the circus and addressed the “good people.”</p> +<p>“In the golden age,” said the father of Juliana, +“great men treated actors like servants, and, if they +offended, their ears were cut off. Are we, in brave +America, returning to the days when they tossed an +actor in a blanket or gave a poet a hiding? Shall we +stifle an art which is the purest inspiration of +Athenian genius? The law prohibits our performing +and charging admission, but it does not debar us from +taking a collection, if”––with a bow in which dignity +and humility were admirably mingled––“you deem the +laborer worthy of his hire?”</p> +<p>This novel epilogue was received with laughter and +applause, but the audience, although good-natured, +contained its proportion of timid souls who retreat +before the passing plate. The rear guard began to +show faint signs of demoralization, when Mauville +sprang to his feet. Pan had disappeared behind his +leafy covert; it was the careless, self-possessed man of +the world who arose.</p> +<p>“I am not concerned about the ethics of art,” he +said lightly, “but the ladies of the company may count +me among their devout admirers. I am sure,” he +added, bowing to the manager with ready grace, “if +they were as charming in the old days, after the lords +tossed the men, they made love to the women.”</p> +<p>“There were no actresses in those days, sir,” corrected +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +Barnes, resenting the flippancy of his aristocratic +auditor.</p> +<p>“No actresses?” retorted the heir. “Then why did +people go to the theater? However, without further +argument, let me be the first contributor.”</p> +<p>“The prodigal!” said the doctor in an aside to the +landlord. “He’s holding up a piece of gold. It’s the +first time ever patroon was a spendthrift!”</p> +<p>But Mauville’s words, on the whole, furthered the +manager’s project, and the audience remained in its +integrity, while Balthazar, a property helmet in hand, +descended from his palace and trod the aisles in his +drab trunk-hose and purple cloak, a royal mendicant, +in whose pot soon jingled the pieces of silver. No +one shirked his admission fee and some even gave +in excess; the helmet teemed with riches; once it had +saved broken heads, now it repaired broken fortunes, +its properties magical, like the armor of Pallas.</p> +<p>“How did you like the play, Mr. Saint-Prosper?” +said Barnes, as he approached that person.</p> +<p>“Much; and as for the players”––a gleam of humor +stealing over his dark features––“‘peerless’ was not +too strong.”</p> +<p>“‘Your approbation likes me most, my lord,’” +quoted the manager, and passed quickly on with his +tin pot, in a futile effort to evade the outstretched +hand of his whilom helper.</p> +<p>Thanking the audience for their generosity and complimenting +them on their intelligence, the self-constituted +lord of the treasury vanished once more behind +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +the curtain. The orchestra of two struck up a +negro melody; the audience rose again, the women +lingering to exchange their last innocent gossip about +prayer-meeting, or about the minister who “knocked +the theologic dust from the pulpit cushions in the good +old orthodox way,” when some renegade exclaimed: +“Clear the room for a dance!”</p> +<p>Jerusha’s shawl straightway fell from her shoulders; +Hannah’s bonnet was whipped from her head; Nathaniel +paused on his way to the stable yard to bring +out the team and a score of willing hands obeyed the +injunction amid laughing encouragement from the +young women whose feet already were tapping the +floor in anticipation of the Virginia Reel, Two Sisters, +Hull’s Victory, or even the waltz, “lately imported +from the Rhine.” A battered Cremona appeared like +magic and</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“In his shirt of check and tallowed hair<br /> +The fiddler sat in his bull-rush chair,”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>while “’Twas Monnie Musk in busy feet and Monnie +Musk by heart”––old-fashioned “Monnie Musk” with +“first couple join right hands and swing,” “forward +six” and “across the set”; an honest dance for country +folk that only left regrets when it came to “Good Night +for aye to Monnie Musk,” although followed by the +singing of “Old Hundred” or “Come, ye Sinners, Poor +and Needy,” on the homeward journey.</p> +<p>In the parlor the younger lads and lasses were playing +“snap and catch ’em” and similar games. The +portly Dutch clock gazed down benignly on the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +scene, its face shining good-humoredly like the round +visage of some comfortable burgher. “Green grow the +rushes, O!” came from many merry-makers. “Kiss her +quick and let her go” was followed by scampering of +feet and laughter which implied a doubt whether the +lad had obeyed the next injunction, “But don’t you +muss her ruffle, O!” Forming a moving ring around +a young girl, they sang: “There’s a rose in the garden +for you, young man.” A rose, indeed, or a rose-bud, +rather, with ruffles he was commanded not to “muss,” +but which, nevertheless, suffered sadly!</p> +<p>Among these boys and girls, the patroon discovered +Constance, no longer “to the life a duchess,” with +gown in keeping with the “pride and pomp of exalted +station,” but attired in the simple dress of lavender +she usually wore, though the roses still adorned her +hair. Shunning the entrancing waltz, the inspiring +“Monnie Musk” and the cotillion, lively when set to +Christy’s melodies, she had sought the more juvenile +element, and, when seen by the land baron, was circling +around with fluttering skirts. Joyous, merry, +there was no hint now in her natural, girlish ways of +the capacity that lay within for varied impersonations, +from the lightness of coquetry to the thrill of +tragedy.</p> +<p>He did not know how it happened, as he stood there +watching her, but the next moment he was imprisoned +by the group and voices were singing:</p> +<p>“There he stands, the booby; who will have him for +his beauty?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></div> +<p>Who? His eye swept the group; the merry, scornful +glances fixed upon him; the joyous, half-inviting +glances; the red lips parted as in kindly invitation; +shy lips, willing lips!</p> +<p>Who? His look kindled; he had made his selection, +and the next moment his arm was impetuously thrown +around the actress’s waist.</p> +<p>“Kiss her quick and let her go!”</p> +<p>Amid the mad confusion he strove to obey the command, +but a panting voice murmured “no, no!” a pair +of dark eyes gazed into his for an instant, defiantly, and +the pliant waist slipped from his impassioned grasp; his +eager lips, instead of touching that glowing cheek, only +grazed a curl that had become loosened, and, before +he could repeat the attempt, she had passed from his +arms, with laughing lips and eyes.</p> +<p>“Play fair!” shouted the lads. “He should ‘kiss +her quick and let her go.’”</p> +<p>“Oh, he let her go first!” said the others.</p> +<p>“‘Kiss her quick,’” reiterated the boys.</p> +<p>“He can’t now,” answered the girls.</p> +<p>The voices took up the refrain: “Don’t you muss +the ruffles, O!” and the game went on. The old clock +gossiped gleefully, its tongue repeating as plainly as +words:</p> +<p>“Let-her-go!––ho!––ho!––one––two––three!”</p> +<p>Three o’clock! Admonishingly rang out the hour, +the jovial face of the clock looking sterner than was +its wont. It glowered now like a preacher in his pulpit +upon a sinful congregation. Enough of “snatch-and-catch’em;” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span> +enough of Hull’s Victory or the Opera +Reel; let the weary fiddler descend from his bull-rush +chair, for soon the touch of dawn will be seen in the +eastern sky! The merry-making began to wane and +already the sound of wagon-wheels rattled over the +log road away from the tavern. Yes, they were singing, +and, as Hepsibeth leaned her head on Josiah’s +shoulder, they uplifted their voices in the good old +orthodox hymn, “Come, Ye Sinners,” for thus they +courted and worshiped in olden times.</p> +<p>“Good-night, every one!” said a sweet voice, as Constance +passed calmly on, with not a ruffle mussed.</p> +<p>“Good-night,” answered the patroon, a sparkle in +his eyes. “I was truly a booby.”</p> +<p>“What can you mean?” she laughed.</p> +<p>“There’s many a slip ’twixt––lip and lip!” exclaimed +Susan.</p> +<p>With heightened color the young girl turned, and +as she did so her look rested on the soldier. His glance +was cold, almost strange, and, meeting it, she half-started +and then smiled, slowly mounting the stairs. +He looked away, but the patroon never took his eyes +from her until she had vanished. Afar, rising and +falling on the clear air, sounded the voices of the +singers:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Praise God from whom all blessings flow;<br /> +Praise Him all creatures here below;”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span></div> +<p>and finally, softer and softer, until the melody melted +into silence:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Praise Him above, ye Heavenly H-o-s-t––”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“One good turn deserves another,” said Barnes to +Saint-Prosper, when Susan and Kate had likewise retired. +“Follow me, sir––to the kitchen! No questions; +but come!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_A_CONFERENCE_IN_THE_KITCHEN' id='CHAPTER_V_A_CONFERENCE_IN_THE_KITCHEN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN</h3> +</div> +<p>A keen observer might have noticed that the door +of the inn kitchen had been kept swinging to and fro +as certain ones in the audience had stolen cautiously, +but repeatedly, in and out of the culinary apartment +while the dancing and other festivities were in progress. +The itinerant pedagogue was prominent in +these mysterious movements which possibly accounted +for his white choker’s being askew and his disposition +to cut a dash, not by declining Greek verbs, but by inclining +too amorously toward Miss Abigail, a maiden +lady with a pronounced aversion for frivolity.</p> +<p>The cause of the schoolmaster’s frolicsome deportment +was apparent to the soldier when he followed +Barnes into the kitchen, where, in a secluded corner, +near the hospitable oven, in the dim light of a tallow +dip, stood a steaming punch bowl. A log smoldered +in the fireplace, casting on the floor the long shadows +of the andirons, while a swinging pot was reflected on +the ceiling like a mighty eclipse. Numerous recesses, +containing pans and plates that gleamed by day, were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span> +wrapped in vague mystery. Three dark figures +around the bowl suggested a scene of incantation, especially +when one of them threw some bark from the +walnut log on the coals and the flames sprang up as +from a pine knot and the eclipse danced among the +rafters overhead while the pot swung to and fro.</p> +<p>As the manager approached the bowl, the trio, +moved by some vague impelling impulse, locked arms, +walked toward the side door, crossed its threshold in +some confusion, owing to a unanimous determination to +pass out at one and the same time, and went forth into +the tranquil night, leaving Barnes and Saint-Prosper +the sole occupants of the kitchen. The manager now +helped himself and his companion to the beverage, +standing with his back to the tiny forks of flame from +the shagbark. His face expanded with good-fellowship; +joviality shone from his eyes beaming upon the +soldier whom he unconsciously regarded as an auxiliary.</p> +<p>“Here’s to our better acquaintance,” he said, placing +his hand with little ceremony on the other’s shoulder. +“The Bill-Poster!” Raising his cup. “You gathered +them in––”</p> +<p>“And you certainly gathered in the contents of their +pockets!”</p> +<p>“A fair robbery!” laughed Barnes, “as Dick Turpin +said when he robbed the minister who robbed the king +who robbed the people! A happy thought that, turning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +the helmet into a collection box! It tided us over; +it tided us over!”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper returned the manager’s glance in +kind; Barnes’ candor and simplicity were apparent +antidotes to the other’s taciturnity and constraint. During +the country dance the soldier had remained a passive +spectator, displaying little interest in the rustic +merry-making or the open glances cast upon him by +bonny lasses, burned in the sunlit fields, buxom serving +maids, as clean as the pans in the kitchen, and hearty +matrons, not averse to frisk and frolic in wholesome +rural fashion.</p> +<p>But now, in the face of the manager’s buoyancy at +the success of a mere expedient––a hopefulness ill-warranted +by his short purse and the long future before +him!––the young man’s manner changed from one +of indifference to friendliness, if not sympathy, for the +over-sanguine custodian of players. Would the helmet, +like the wonderful pitcher, replenish itself as fast +as it was emptied? Or was it but a make-shift? The +manager’s next remark seemed a reply to these +queries, denoting that Barnes himself, although temporarily +elated, was not oblivious to the precarious +character of “free performances,” with voluntary offerings.</p> +<p>“What we need,” continued the manager, “is a temperance +drama. With what intemperate eagerness +would the people flock to see it! But where is it to +be found? Plays don’t grow on bushes, even in this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span> +agricultural district. And I have yet to discover any +dramatists hereabouts, unless”––jocularly––“you are +a Tom Taylor or a Tom Robertson in disguise. Are +you sure you have never courted the divine muse? +Men of position have frequently been guilty of that +folly, sir.”</p> +<p>“But once,” answered the other in the same tone. +“At college; a political satire.”</p> +<p>“Was it successful?”</p> +<p>“Quite so––I was expelled for writing it!”</p> +<p>“Well,” retorted Barnes, irrelevantly, “you have at +least mildly coquetted with the muse. Besides, I dare +say, you have been behind the scenes a good deal. +The green room is a fashionable rendezvous. Where +are you going? And what––if I may ask––is your +business?”</p> +<p>“I am on my way to New Orleans,” said the traveler, +after a moment’s hesitation. “My business, fortune-getting. +In sugar, tobacco, or indigo-culture!”</p> +<p>“New Orleans!” exclaimed the manager, poising the +ladle in mid air. “That, too, is our destination. We +have an engagement to play there. Why not join our +band? Write or adapt a play for us. Make a temperance +drama of your play!”</p> +<p>“You are a whimsical fellow,” said the stranger, +smiling. “Why don’t you write the play yourself?”</p> +<p>“I? An unread, illiterate dotard! Why, I never +had so much as a day’s schooling. As a lad I slept +with the rats, held horses, swept crossings and lived +like a mudlark! Me write a play! I might let fall a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +suggestion here and there; how to set a flat, or where +to drop a fly; to plan an entrance, or to arrange an +exit! No, no; let the shoemaker stick to his last! It +takes”––with deference––“a scholar to write a drama.”</p> +<p>“Thus you disqualify me,” laughed the other, drawing +out a pipe which he filled; and lighted with a coal +held in the iron grip of the antique tongs. “If it were +only to help plant a battery or stand in a gap!” he said +grimly, replacing the tongs against the old brick oven +at one side of the grate. “But to beset King Bacchus +in three acts! To storm his castle in the first; scale +the walls in the second, and blow up all the king’s +horses and all the king’s men in the last––that is, indeed, +serious warfare!”</p> +<p>“True, it will be a roundabout way to New Orleans,” +continued the manager, disregarding his companion’s +response, “but there is no better way of seeing the New +World––that is, if you do not disdain the company of +strolling players. You gain in knowledge what you +lose in time. If you are a philosopher, you can study +human nature through the buffoon and the mummer. +If you are a naturalist, here are grand forests to contemplate. +If you are not a recluse, here is free, though +humble, comradeship.”</p> +<p>His listener gazed thoughtfully into the fire. Was +the prospect of sharing this gipsy-like life attractive +to him? An adventurer himself, was he drawn toward +these homeless strollers, for whom the illusions of +dramatic art shone with enticing luster in the comparative +solitude of the circuit on the wilderness?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span></div> +<p>As he sat before the glow, the light of the burning +shagbark, playing elfishly above the dying embers, outlined +the stalwart, yet active figure and the impenetrable, +musing features. But when, with an upward +shower of sparks, the backlog fell asunder and the +waning flame cast yet more gloomy shadows behind +them, he leaned back in his heavy, hewn chair and +again bent an attentive look upon the loquacious +speaker.</p> +<p>“Or, if you desire,” resumed the manager after some +hesitation, “it might become a business venture as well +as a pleasure jaunt. Here is a sinking ship. Will +the salvage warrant helping us into port; that is, New +Orleans? There hope tells a flattering tale. The +company is well equipped; has a varied repertoire, +while Constance”––tenderly––“is a host in herself. +If you knew her as I do; had watched her art grow”––his +voice trembled––“and to think, sometimes I do +not know where the next day’s sustenance may come +from! That she”––</p> +<p>He broke off abruptly, gazing at his companion half-apologetically. +“We players, sir,” he resumed, “present +a jovial front, but”––tapping his breast––“few +know what is going on here!”</p> +<p>“Therein,” said the younger man, emptying his pipe, +“you have stated a universal truth.” He pushed a +smoldering log with his foot toward the remnants of +the embers. “Suppose I were so minded to venture”––and +he mentioned a modest sum––“in this hazard +and we patched up the play together?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span></div> +<p>“You don’t mean it?” cried the manager, eagerly. +Then he regarded the other suspiciously: “Your proposal +is not inspired through sympathy?”</p> +<p>“Why not through the golden prospects you have +so eloquently depicted?” replied Saint-Prosper, coldly.</p> +<p>“Why not indeed!” exclaimed the reassured manager. +“Success will come; it must come. You have +seen Constance but once. She lives in every character +to her heart’s core. How does she do it? Who +can tell? It’s inborn. A heritage to her!”</p> +<p>His voice sank low with emotion. “Yes,” he murmured, +shaking his head thoughtfully, as though another +image arose in his mind; “a heritage! a divine +heritage!” But soon he looked up. “She’s a brave +girl!” he said. “When times were dark, she would +always smile encouragingly, and, in the light of her +clear eyes, I felt anew the Lord would temper the +wind to the shorn lamb.”</p> +<p>“One––two––three––four,” rang the great clock +through the silent hall, and, at its harsh clangor, +Barnes started.</p> +<p>“Bless my soul, the maids’ll be up and doing and +find us here!” he exclaimed. “One last cup! To the +success of the temperance drama!”</p> +<p>In a few moments they had parted for their respective +chambers and only the landlord was left down-stairs. +Now as he came from behind the bar, where +he had been apparently dozing and secretly listening +through the half-opened door leading into the kitchen, +he had much difficulty to restrain his laughter.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span></div> +<p>“That’s a good one to tell Ezekiel,” he muttered, +turning out the lights and sweeping the ashes on the +hearth to the back of the grate. “To the temperance +drama!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_DEPARTURE_OF_THE_CHARIOT' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_DEPARTURE_OF_THE_CHARIOT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT</h3> +</div> +<p>Down the hill, facing the tavern, the shadows of +night were slowly withdrawn, ushering in the day of +the players’ leaving. A single tree, at the very top, +isolated from its sylvan neighbors, was bathed in the +warm sunshine, receiving the earliest benediction of +day. Down, down, came the dark shade, pursued by +the light, until the entire slope of the hill was radiant +and the sad colored foliage flaunted in new-born +gaiety.</p> +<p>Returning from the stable, where he had been looking +after his horse, the soldier stood for a moment before +the inn, when a flower fell at his feet, and, glancing +over his shoulder, he perceived Susan, who was +leaning from her window. The venturesome rose, +which had clambered as high as the second story, was +gone; plucked, alas, by the wayward hand of a coquette. +Saint-Prosper bowed, and stooped for the +aspiring but now hapless flower which lay in the dust.</p> +<p>“You have joined the chariot, I hear?” said Susan.</p> +<p>“For the present,” he replied.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></div> +<p>“And what parts will you play?” she continued, +with smiling inquisitiveness.</p> +<p>“None.”</p> +<p>“What a pity! You would make a handsome lover.” +Then she blushed. “Lud! What am I saying? Besides”––maliciously––“I +believe you have eyes for +some one else. But remember,”––shaking her finger +and with a coquettish turn of the head––“I am an actress +and therefore vain. I must have the best part +in the new piece. Don’t forget that, or I’ll not travel +in the same chariot with you.” And Susan disappeared.</p> +<p>“Ah, Kate,” she said, a moment later, “what a fine-looking +young man he is!”</p> +<p>“Who?” drawled her sister.</p> +<p>“Mr. Saint-Prosper, of course.”</p> +<p>“He is large enough,” retorted Kate, leisurely.</p> +<p>“Large enough! O, Kate, what a phlegmatic creature +you are!”</p> +<p>“Fudge!” said the other as she left the chamber.</p> +<p>Entering the tavern, the soldier was met by the wiry +old lady who bobbed into the breakfast room and explained +the kind of part that fitted her like a glove, +her prejudices being strong against modern plays.</p> +<p>“Give me dramas like ‘Oriana,’ ‘The Rival Queens’ +or Webster’s pieces,” she exclaimed, quoting with +much fire for her years:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“‘We are only like dead walls or vaulted graves!’”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“And do not forget the ‘heavy’ in your piece!” called +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +out Hawkes across the table. “Something you can +dig your teeth in!”</p> +<p>“Nor the ‘juvenile lead,’” chimed in the Celtic +Adonis.</p> +<p>“Adonis makes a great hit in a small part,” laughed +Kate, appearing at the door. “‘My lord, the carriage +is waiting!’”</p> +<p>“My lady, your tongue is too sharp!” exclaimed +Adonis, nettled.</p> +<p>“And put in a love scene for Adonis and myself,” +she continued, lazily floating into the room. “He is +so fond of me, it would not be like acting!”</p> +<p>This bantering was at length interrupted by the appearance +of the chariot and the property wagon at the +front door, ready for the journey. The rumbling of +the vehicles, the resounding hoofs and the resonant +voice of the stable boy awakened the young lord of the +manor in his chamber above. He stretched himself +sleepily, swore and again composed himself for slumber, +when the noise of a property trunk, thumping its +way down the front stairs a step at a time, galvanized +him into life and consciousness.</p> +<p>“Has the world come to an end?” he muttered. +“No; I remember; it’s only the players taking their +departure!”</p> +<p>But, although he spoke carelessly, the bumping of +boxes and slamming and banging of portable goods +annoyed him more than he would confess. With the +“crazy-quilt”––a patch-work of heptagons of different +hues and patterns––around his shoulders, clothing him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +with all the colors of the rainbow, he sat up in bed, +wincing at each concussion.</p> +<p>“I might as well get up!” he exclaimed. “I’ll see +her once more––the perverse beauty!” And tossing +the kaleidoscopic covering viciously from him, he +began to dress.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, as the time for their going drew near, +mine host down-stairs sped the parting guest with +good cheer, having fared profitably by the patronage +the players had brought to the inn; but his daughter, +Arabella, looked sad and pensive. How weary, flat +and stale appeared her existence now! With a lump +in her throat and a pang in her heart, she recklessly +wiped her eyes upon the best parlor curtains, when +Barnes mounted to the box, as robust a stage-driver +as ever extricated a coach from a quagmire. The +team, playful through long confinement, tugged at +the reins, and Sandy, who was at the bits, occasionally +shot through space like an erratic meteor.</p> +<p>The manager was flourishing his whip impatiently +when Constance and Susan appeared, the former in a +traveling costume of blue silk; a paletot of dark cloth, +and, after the fashion of the day, a bonnet of satin and +velvet. Susan was attired in a jupe sweeping and +immensely full––to be in style!––and jacquette with +sleeves of the pagoda form. The party seemed in high +spirits, as from his dormer window Mauville, adjusting +his attire, peered through the lattice over the edge +of the moss-grown roof and leaf-clogged gutters and +surveyed their preparations for departure. How well +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +the rich color of her gown became the young girl! +He had told himself white was her best adornment, +but his opinion veered on the moment now, and he +thought he had never seen her to better advantage, +with the blue of her dress reappearing in the lighter +shade, above the dark paletot, in the lining of the bonnet +and the bow of ribbons beneath her chin.</p> +<p>“On my word, but she looks handsome!” muttered +the patroon. “Might sit for a Gainsborough or a Reynolds! +What dignity! What coldness! All except +the eyes! How they can lighten! But there’s that +adventurer with her,” as the figure of the soldier +crossed the yard to the property wagon. “No getting +rid of him until the last moment!” And he +opened the shutters wider, listening and watching more +closely.</p> +<p>“Are you going to ride in the property wagon?” he +heard Saint-Prosper ask.</p> +<p>“Yes; when I have a part to study I sometimes retire +to the stage throne,” she answered lightly. “I suppose +you will ride your horse?”</p> +<p>Of his reply the listener caught only the words, +“wind-break” and “lame.” He observed the soldier +assist her to the throne, and then, to Mauville’s surprise, +spring into the wagon himself.</p> +<p>“Why, the fellow is going with them!” exclaimed the +land baron. “Or, at any rate, he is going with her. +What can it mean?” And hurriedly quitting his post, +his toilet now being complete, he hastened to the door +and quickly made his way down-stairs.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span></div> +<p>During the past week his own addresses had miscarried +and his gallantry had been love’s labor lost. +At first he had fancied he was making progress, but +soon acknowledged to himself he had underestimated +the enterprise. Play had succeeded play––he could not +have told what part favored her most! Ophelia sighed +and died; Susan danced on her grave between acts, +according to the program, and turned tears into smiles; +the farewell night had come and gone––and yet +Constance had made no sign of compliance to reward +the patient wooer. Now, at the sight of these preparations +for departure, and the presence of the stalwart +stranger in the property wagon, he experienced a +sudden sensation of pique, almost akin to jealousy.</p> +<p>Stepping from the tavern, it was with an effort he +suppressed his chagrin and vexation and assumed that +air of nonchalance which became him well. Smilingly +he bade Susan and the other occupants of the chariot +farewell, shook Barnes by the hand, and turned to +the property wagon.</p> +<p>“The noise of your departure awakened me,” he +said to the young girl. “So I have come to claim my +compensation––the pleasure of seeing you––”</p> +<p>“Depart!” she laughed quickly.</p> +<p>Momentarily disconcerted, he turned to the soldier. +“You ride early.”</p> +<p>“As you see,” returned the other, immovably.</p> +<p>“A habit contracted in the army, no doubt!” retorted +Mauville, recovering his easy self-possession. +“Well, a bumping trunk is as efficacious as a bugle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +call! But <i>au revoir</i>, Miss Carew; for we may meet +again. The world is broad––yet its highways are +narrow! There is no need wishing you a pleasant +journey.”</p> +<p>His glance rested on Saint-Prosper for a moment, +but told nothing beyond the slight touch of irony in +his words and then shifting to the young girl, it lingered +upon each detail of costume and outline of feature. +Before she could reply, Barnes cracked his whip, +the horses sprang forward, and the stable boy, a confused +tangle of legs and arms, was shot as from a catapult +among the sweet-williams. The abrupt departure +of the chariot was the cue for the property wagon, +which followed with some labor and jolting, like a convoy +struggling in the wake of a pretentious ship. From +the door Mauville watched it until it reached a toll-gate, +passed beneath the portcullis and disappeared +into the broad province of the wilderness.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_SOJOURNING_IN_ARCADIA' id='CHAPTER_VII_SOJOURNING_IN_ARCADIA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA</h3> +</div> +<p>Calm and still was the morning; the wandering air +just stirred the pendulous branches of the elms and +maples, and, in the clear atmosphere, the russet hills +were sharply outlined. As they swung out into the +road, with Hans, the musician, at the reins, the young +girl removed her bonnet and leaned back in the chair +of state, where kings had fretted and queens had +lolled.</p> +<p>The throne, imposing on the stage, now appeared but +a flimsy article of furniture, with frayed and torn +upholstering, and carving which had long since lost +its gilded magnificence. Seated amid the jumble of +theatrical appliances and accoutrements––scenery, +rolled up rug-fashion, property trunks, stage clock, +lamps and draperies––she accepted the situation gracefully, +even finding nothing strange in the presence of +the soldier. New faces had come and gone in the +company before, and, when Barnes had complacently +informed her Saint-Prosper would journey with the +players to New Orleans in a semi-business capacity, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +the arrangement appeared conformable to precedent. +The manager’s satisfaction augured well for the importance +of the semi-business rôle assumed by the +stranger, and Barnes’ friendliness was perhaps in +some degree unconsciously reflected in her manner; +an attitude the soldier’s own reserve, or taciturnity, +had not tended to dispel. So, his being in the +property wagon seemed no more singular than +Hans’ occupancy of the front seat, or if Adonis, +Hawkes, or Susan had been there with her. She was +accustomed to free and easy comradeship; indeed, +knew no other life, and it was only assiduous attentions, +like those of the land baron’s, that startled and +disquieted her.</p> +<p>As comfortably as might be, she settled back in the +capacious, threadbare throne, a slender figure in its +depths––more adapted to accommodate a corpulent +Henry VIII!––and smiled gaily, as the wagon, in +avoiding one rut, ran into another and lurched somewhat +violently. Saint-Prosper, lodged on a neighboring +trunk, quickly extended a steadying hand.</p> +<p>“You see how precarious thrones are!” he said.</p> +<p>“There isn’t room for it to more than totter,” she replied +lightly, removing her bonnet and lazily swinging +it from the arm of the chair.</p> +<p>“Then it’s safer than real thrones,” he answered, +watching the swaying bonnet, or perhaps, contrasting +the muscular, bronzed hand he had placed on the chair +with the smooth, white one which held the blue ribbons; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +a small, though firm, hand to grapple with the +minotaur, Life!</p> +<p>She slowly wound the ribbons around her fingers.</p> +<p>“Oh, you mean France,” she said, and he looked +away with sudden disquietude. “Poor monarchs! +Their road is rougher than this one.”</p> +<p>“Rougher truly!”</p> +<p>“You love France?” she asked suddenly, after studying, +with secret, sidelong glances his reserved, impenetrable +face.</p> +<p>His gaze returned to her––to the bonnet now resting +in her lap––to the hand beside it.</p> +<p>“It is my native land,” he replied.</p> +<p>“Then why did you leave it––in its trouble?” she +asked impulsively.</p> +<p>“Why?” he repeated, regarding her keenly; but in +a moment he added: “For several reasons. I returned +from Africa, from serving under Bugeaud, to +find the red flag waving in Paris; the king fled!”</p> +<p>“Oh,” she said, quickly, “a king should––”</p> +<p>“What?” he asked, as she paused.</p> +<p>“I was going to say it was better to die like a king +than––”</p> +<p>“Than live an outcast!” he concluded for her, a +shadow on his brow.</p> +<p>She nodded. “At any rate, that is the way they always +do in the plays,” she added brightly. “But you +were saying you found your real king fled?”</p> +<p>His heavy brows contracted, though he answered +readily enough: “Yes, the king had fled. A kinsman +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +in whose house I had been reared then bade me +head a movement for the restoration of the royal +fugitive. For what object? The regency was doomed. +The king, a May-fly!”</p> +<p>“And so you refused?”</p> +<p>“We quarreled; he swore like a Gascon. His little +puppet should yet sit in the chair where Louis XIV +had lorded it! I, who owed my commission to his noble +name, was a republican, a deserter! The best way +out of the difficulty was out of the country. First it +was England, then it was here. To-morrow––where?” +he added, in a lower tone, half to himself.</p> +<p>“Where?” she repeated, lightly. “That is our case, +too.”</p> +<p>He looked at her with sudden interest. “Yours is +an eventful life, Miss Carew.”</p> +<p>“I have never known any other,” she said, simply, +adding after a pause: “My earliest recollections +are associated with my mother and the stage. As a +child I watched her from the wings. I remember a +grand voice and majestic presence. When the audience +broke into applause, my heart throbbed with +pride.”</p> +<p>But as her thoughts reverted to times past, the +touch of melancholy, invoked by the memory of her +mother, was gradually dispelled, as fancy conjured +other scenes, and a flickering smile hovered over the +lips whose parting displaced that graver mood.</p> +<p>“Once or twice I played with her, too,” she added. +“I thought it nice to be one of the little princes in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +Richard III and wear white satin clothes. One night +after the play an old gentleman took me on his knee +and said: I had to come, my child, and see if the +wicked old uncle hadn’t really smothered you!’ When +he had gone, my mother told me he was Mr. Washington +Irving. I thought him very kind, for he brought +me a bag of bonbons from the coffee-room.”</p> +<p>“It’s the first time I ever heard of a great critic +laden with sweetmeats!” said the soldier. “And were +you not flattered by his honeyed regard?”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes; I devoured it and wanted more,” she +laughed.</p> +<p>Hans’ flourishing whip put an end to further conversation. +“Der stage goach!” he said, turning a lumpish +countenance upon them and pointing down the +road.</p> +<p>Approaching at a lively gait was one of the coaches +of the regular line, a vehicle of ancient type, hung on +bands of leather and curtained with painted canvas, +not unlike the typical French diligence, except for its +absence of springs. The stage was spattered with mud +from roof to wheel-tire, but as the mire was not fresh +and the road fair, the presumption followed that custom +and practice precluded the cleaning of the coach. +The passengers, among whom were several ladies, +wearing coquettish bonnets with ribbons or beau-catchers +attached, were too weary even to view with +wonder the odd-looking theatrical caravan. Only the +driver, a diminutive person with puckered face the +color of dried apples, so venerable as to be known as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +Old Hundred, seemed as spry and cheery as when he +started.</p> +<p>“Morning,” he said, briskly, drawing in his horses. +“Come back, have ye, with yer troupe? What’s the +neuws from Alban-y?”</p> +<p>“Nothing, except Texas has been admitted as a +State,” answered Barnes.</p> +<p>“Sho! We air coming on!” commented the Methuselah +of the road.</p> +<p>“Coming on!” groaned a voice in the vehicle, and the +florid face of an English traveler appeared at the door. +“I say, do you call this ‘coming on!’ I’m nearly gone, +don’t you know!”</p> +<p>“Hi!––ge’ long!––steady there!” And Old Hundred +again whipped up his team, precipitating a lady +into the lap of the gentleman who was “nearly gone,” +and well-nigh completing his annihilation.</p> +<p>In less time than when a friendly sail is lost in the +mist, Old Hundred’s bulky land-wherry passed from +view, and the soldier again turned to his companion. +But she was now intent on some part in a play +which she was quietly studying and he contented himself +with lighting that staple luxury of the early +commonwealth, a Virginia stogie, observing her from +time to time over the glowing end. With the book +upon her knee, her head downcast and partly turned +from him, he could, nevertheless, through the mazy +convolutions and dreamy spirals of the Indian weed, +detect the changing emotions which swept over her, +as in fancy she assumed a rôle in the drama. Now the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +faintest shadow of a smile, coming and going; again +beneath the curve of her long lashes, a softer gleaming +in the dark eyes, adding new charm to the pale, proud +face. Around them nature seemed fraught with forgetfulness; +the Libyan peace that knows not where or +wherefore. Rocked in the cradle of ruts and furrows, +Hans, portly as a carboy, half-dozed on the +front seat.</p> +<p>Shortly before noon they approached an ancient +hostelry, set well back from the road. To the manager’s +dismay, however, the door was locked and boards +were nailed across the windows. Even the water pail, +hospitably placed for man or beast, had been removed +from its customary proximity to the wooden pump. +Abandoned to decay, the tenantless inn was but +another evidence of traffic diverted from the old stage +roads by the Erie Canal Company. Cold was the fireplace +before which had once rested the sheep-skin +slippers for the guests; empty was the larder where +at this season was wont to be game in abundance, +sweet corn, luscious melons––the trophies of the hunt, +the fruits of the field; missing the neat, compact little +keg whose spigot had run with consolation for the +wanderer!</p> +<p>Confronted by the deserted house, where they had +expected convivial cheer, there was no alternative but +to proceed, and their journey was resumed with some +discomfiture to the occupants of the coach which now +labored like a portly Spanish galleon, struck by a +squall. They had advanced in this manner for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +some distance through furrow and groove, when +the vehicle gave a sharper lurch down a deeper rut; +a crash was followed by cries of affright and the chariot +abruptly settled on one side. Barnes held the +plunging horses in control, while the gentlemen scrambled +to the ground and assisted the ladies to dismount.</p> +<p>“Any one hurt?” asked the manager from his box.</p> +<p>“No damage done––except to the coach,” said +Hawkes.</p> +<p>By this time the horses had become quiet and Barnes, +now that the passengers were rescued, like a good +skipper, left the quarter deck.</p> +<p>“We couldn’t have chosen a better place for our +lunch,” he remarked philosophically. “How fortunate +we should have broken down where we did!”</p> +<p>“Very fortunate!” echoed the old lady ironically.</p> +<p>The accident had happened upon a slight plateau, of +which they accordingly took possession, tethering the +horses to graze. From the branches overhead the +squirrels surveyed them as if asking what manner of +people were these, and the busy woodpecker ceased his +drumming, cocking his head inquisitively at the intruders; +then shyly drew away, mounting spirally the +trunk of the tree to the hole, chiseled by his strong +beak for a nest. As Barnes gazed around upon the +pleasing prospect, he straightway became the duke in +the comedy of the forest.</p> +<p>“Ha, my brothers in exile,” he exclaimed, “are not +these woods more free from peril than the envious +court?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span></div> +<p>“All it wants,” said the tragedian, hungrily, “is mutton, +greens and a foaming pot.”</p> +<p>“I can’t promise the foaming pot,” answered the +manager. “But, at least, we have a well-filled hamper.”</p> +<p>Soon the coffee was simmering and such viands as +they had brought with them––for Barnes was a far-sighted +and provident manager––were spread out in +tempting profusion. Near them a swift-flowing +stream chattered about the stones like one of nature’s +busiest gossips; it whispered to the flowers, murmured +to the rushes and was voluble to the overhanging +branch that dragged upon the surface of the water. +The flowers on its brim nodded, the rushes waved and +the branch bent as if in assent to the mad gossip of +the blithesome brook. And it seemed as though all +this animated conversation was caused by the encampment +of the band of players by the wayside.</p> +<p>The repast finished, they turned their attention to +the injured chariot, but fortunately the damage was +not beyond repair, and Barnes, actor, manager, bill-poster, +license-procurer, added to his already extensive +repertoire the part of joiner and wheelwright. The +skilled artisans in coachmaking and coach-repairing +might not have regarded the manager as a master-workman, +but the fractured parts were finally set +after a fashion. By that time, however, the sun had +sunk to rest upon a pillow of clouds; the squirrels, law-abiding +citizens, had sought their homes; the woodpecker +had vanished in his snug chamber, and only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +forest dwellers of nocturnal habits were now abroad, +their name legion like the gad-abouts of a populous +city.</p> +<p>“There!” exclaimed the manager, surveying his +handiwork. “The ’bus is ready! But there is little +use going on to-night. I am not sure of the road +and here is a likely spot to pass the night.”</p> +<p>“Likely to be devoured by wild beasts,” said Kate, +with a shudder.</p> +<p>“I am sure I see two glistening eyes!” exclaimed +Susan.</p> +<p>“Fudge!” observed the elastic old lady. “That’s +the first time you have been afraid of two-glistening +eyes.”</p> +<p>“There’s a vast difference between wolves and men,” +murmured Susan.</p> +<p>“I’m not so sure of that,” returned the aged cynic.</p> +<p>But as the light of day was withdrawn a great +fire sprang up, illumining the immediate foreground. +The flames were cheering, drawing the party more +closely together. Even Hawkes partly discarded +his tragedy face; the old lady threw a bundle of fifty +odd years from her shoulders as easily as a wood-carrier +would cast aside his miserable stack of fagots, +while Barnes forgot his troubles in narrating the harrowing +experience of a company which had penetrated +the west at a period antedating the settlement of the +Michigan and Ohio boundary dispute.</p> +<p>The soldier alone was silent, curiously watching the +play of light and shade on the faces of the strollers, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +his gaze resting longest, perhaps, on the features of +the young girl. Leaning against an ancient oak, so +old the heart of it was gone and it towered but a +mighty shell, the slender figure of the actress was +clearly outlined, but against that dark and roughly-furrowed +background she seemed too slight and delicate +to buffet with storms and hardships. That day’s +experience was a forerunner of the unexpected in this +wandering life, but another time the mishap might not +be turned to diversion. The coach would not always +traverse sunny byways; the dry leaf floating from the +majestic arm of the oak, the sound of an acorn as it +struck the earth presaged days less halcyon to come.</p> +<p>“How do you enjoy being a stroller?” asked a voice, +interrupting the soldier’s reverie. “It has its bitters +and its sweets, hasn’t it? Especially its sweets!” Susan +added, glancing meaningly at the young girl. +“But after all, it doesn’t much matter what happens to +you if you are in good company.” The semi-gloom +permitted her to gaze steadfastly into his eyes. He +ignored the opportunity for a compliment, and Susan +stifled a little yawn, real or imaginary.</p> +<p>“Positively one could die of <i>ennui</i> in this wilderness,” +she continued. “Do you know you are a welcome addition +to our band? But you will have to make yourself +very agreeable. I suppose”––archly––“you <i>were</i> +very agreeable in the property wagon?”</p> +<p>“Miss Carew had a part to study,” he returned, +coldly.</p> +<p>“A part to study!” In mock consternation. “How +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +I hate studying parts! They say what you wouldn’t, +and don’t say what you would! But I’m off to bed,” +rising impatiently. “I’m getting sleepy!”</p> +<p>“Sleepy!” echoed Barnes. “Take your choice! The +Hotel du Omnibus”––indicating the chariot––“or +the Villa Italienne?”––with a gesture toward a tent +made of the drop curtain upon the walls of which was +the picture of an Italian scene.</p> +<p>“The chariot for me,” answered Susan. “It is more +high and dry and does not suggest spiders and other +crawling things.”</p> +<p>“Good-night, then, and remember a good conscience +makes a hard bed soft.”</p> +<p>“Then I shall sleep on down. I haven’t had a +chance”––with a sigh––“to damage my conscience +lately. But when I strike civilization again”––and +Susan shook her head eloquently to conclude her sentence. +“Oh, yes; if beds depend on conscience, boughs +would be feathers for me to-night.” With which half-laughing, +half-defiant conclusion, Susan tripped to the +chariot, pausing a moment, however, to cast a reproachful +glance over her shoulder at Saint-Prosper before +vanishing in the cavernous depths of the vehicle of the +muses.</p> +<p>Her departure was the signal for the dispersing of +the party to their respective couches. Now the fire +sank lower, the stars came out brighter and the moon +arose and traveled majestically up the heavens, taking +a brief but comprehensive survey of the habitations +of mortals, and then, as if satisfied with her scrutiny, +sailed back to the horizon and dropped out of sight.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_FLIPPING_THE_SHILLING' id='CHAPTER_VIII_FLIPPING_THE_SHILLING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>FLIPPING THE SHILLING</h3> +</div> +<p>Shortly after the departure of the strolling players +from the tavern, Mauville summoned his servant and +ordered his equipage. While waiting he strode impatiently +to and fro in the dining-room, which, dismantled +of the stage, by very contrast to the temporary +temple of art, turned his thoughts to the players. The +barrenness of the room smote him acutely with the +memory of those performances, and he laughed ironically +to himself that he should thus revert to them. +But as he scoffed inwardly, his eyes gleamed with +vivacity, and the sensations with which he had viewed +the young girl night after night were reawakened. +What was one woman lost to him, his egotism whispered; +he had parted from many, as a gourmand leaves +one meal for another. Yes; but she had not been his, +insinuated vanity; another had whipped her off before +his eyes.</p> +<p>“Why the devil didn’t you tell me he was going with +them?” he demanded of the landlord while settling his +account.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span></div> +<p>“He––who?” asked the surprised inn-keeper.</p> +<p>“That adventurer you have been harboring here. +How far’s he going with them?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. The night after the performance +I heard the manager ask him to join the company; to +write a temperance play.”</p> +<p>“Temperance play!” sneered Mauville. “The fool’s +gone with them on account of a woman.”</p> +<p>“I did think he was mighty attentive to one of the +actresses,” said the landlord, reflectively. “The one +with them melting eyes. Purty good-looking! Quiet +and lady-like, too! So he’s gallivanting after her? +Well, well, I guess actresses be all alike.”</p> +<p>“I guess they are,” added the heir savagely. “And +this one took me in,” he thought to himself. “Holding +me off and playing with him, the jade!” Then +he continued aloud: “Where are they going?”</p> +<p>“Didn’t hear ’em say,” answered the other, “and I +didn’t like to appear too curious.”</p> +<p>“You didn’t?” returned Mauville, ironically. “You +must have changed lately.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know as I understand you quite,” replied +the landlord with sudden dignity. “But here’s your +carriage and your things are all on. I guess your tenants +will be glad to see you,” he continued, not resisting +a parting shot.</p> +<p>“Curse the tenants!” muttered the guest in ill-humor, +as he strode from the tavern without more ado.</p> +<p>He was soon on his way, partly forgetting his vexation +in new anticipations, and traveling with spirit to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +his destination, which he reached late that afternoon. +The residence of the old patroons, a lordly manor +where once lavish hospitality had been displayed, was +approached through great gates of hammered iron in +which the family arms were interwoven, leading into +a fine avenue of trees. The branches of the more +majestic met overhead, forming a sylvan arch that almost +obscured the blue sky by day and the stars by +night. Gazing through this vista, a stately portico +appeared, with Corinthian columns, affording an inviting +termination of the view. The grounds bore evidence +of neglect in the grass growing knee-high and +rank with weeds; the flower beds almost obliterated; +a corn-crib sunk to one side like a quadruped gone +weak-kneed; and the stream that struggled vainly +through the leaves and rubbish barring its passage +across the estate. The fence resembled the “company +front” of an awkward squad, each picket being more +or less independent of its neighbor, with here and there +a break or gap in the ranks.</p> +<p>Passing through the leafy archway over a noiseless +road and drawing near the manor, the heir could see +that the broad windows, with their quaint squares of +glass, were unwashed, the portico unswept and the +brass finishings of the front door unpolished. At the +right of the steps leading to the portico, moss-covered +and almost concealed by a rose-bush, stood a huge +block of granite upon which rested the “lifting-stone,” +as it was called, of one of the early masters. This not +inconsiderable weight the new retainers had been required +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +to lift in days of old, or failing, the patroon +would have none of their services, for he wanted only +lusty, broad-backed varlets for farmers or––when need +were––soldiers.</p> +<p>In answer to repeated summons from the ponderous +knocker, shuffling footsteps were finally heard within, +the door was opened a few inches and the gleaming +teeth of a great, gaunt dog were thrust into the opening, +followed by an ominous growling. Mauville +sprang back a step; the snarling resolved itself into +a yelp, as some one unceremoniously dragged the canine +back; the door was opened wider and a brawny figure, +smoking a long-stemmed pipe, barred the way. The +dog, but partly appeased, peered from behind the +man’s sturdy legs, awaiting hostilities. The latter, +an imperturbable Dutchman, eyed the intruder askance, +smoking as impassively in his face as one of his ancestors +before William the Testy. From his point of +vantage on the threshold the care-taker looked down +upon the master so indifferently, while the dog glared +so viciously that the land baron cried angrily:</p> +<p>“Why the devil don’t you get out of the way and call +off that beast?”</p> +<p>The man pondered. “No one but the heir would +give orders like that,” he said, so accustomed to speaking +his thoughts in the solitude of the great rooms, +that he gave way to the habit now. “This must be the +heir.”</p> +<p>Slowly the care-taker moved aside, the hound shifting +his position accordingly, and Mauville entered, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +gazing around with some interest, for the interior of +the manor realized the pretensions of its outward aspect. +The floor of the hall was of satinwood and rosewood, +and the mahogany wainscoting, extending almost +to the ceiling, was black with age. With its rich +carvings, the stairway suggested woody rioting in +balustrades lifting up to the support of the heavy +beams in the ceiling. The furnishings were in keeping, +but dust obscured the mirror-like surface of the +mahogany tables, the heavy draperies were in need of +renovation, while a housewife would have viewed with +despair the condition of brass and ebony inlaid cabinets, +ancient tapestries, and pictures, well-nigh defaced, +but worthy, even in their faded aspect, of the brush of +Sir Godfrey Kneller, Benjamin West and the elder +Peale.</p> +<p>Having casually surveyed his new home, the heir +was reminded of the need for refreshment after his +long journey, and, turning to the care-taker, asked him +what there was in the house? The servant smoked +silently as though deeply considering this momentous +question, while the rear guard maintained unabated +hostility between the man’s firmly-planted feet. Then +abruptly, without removing his pipe, the guardian of +the manor ejaculated:</p> +<p>“Short-cakes and oly-koeks.”</p> +<p>The other laughed, struck his knee with his light +cane and demanded to be shown to the library, where +he would have these outlandish dishes served.</p> +<p>“And bring with them, Mynheer Oly-koeks, a bottle +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +of wine,” he continued. “At the same time, chain +up the dog. He eyes me with such hungry hostility +that, gad! I believe he’s an anti-renter!”</p> +<p>Mauville was ushered into a large room, where great +leather-bound volumes filled the oak shelves to the +ceiling. The care-taker turned, and, with echoing footsteps, +slowly departed, followed by his faithful four-footed +retainer. It is true the latter paused, swung +half-around and regarded the land-owner with the +look of a sulky and rebellious tenant, but, summoned +by a stern “Oloffe!” from his master, the dog reluctantly +pattered across the hard-wood floor.</p> +<p>In surveying his surroundings, the land baron’s attention +was attracted by a coat-of-arms deeply carved +in the massive wood of the book-case––on a saltire +sable, a fleur-de-lys or. This head of heraldic flowers +appeared to interest Mauville, who smiled grimly. +“From what I know of my worthy ancestors,” he +muttered, “and their propensities to prey on their fellow-men, +I should say a more fitting device would be +that of Lovett of Astwell: Gules, three wolves passant +sable, in pale.”</p> +<p>Pleased with his own humor, he threw himself upon +a couch near the window, stretching himself luxuriously. +Soon the man reappeared with the refreshments +and a bottle of old-fashioned, substantial girth, +which he uncorked with marked solicitude.</p> +<p>“Where are the oly-koeks?” exclaimed the heir.</p> +<p>The watchman pointed to a great dish of dark blue +willow-ware pattern.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span></div> +<p>“Oh, doughnuts!” said Mauville. “You know where +the family lawyer lives? Have my man drive you to +his house and bring him here at once.”</p> +<p>As the care-taker again disappeared the heir bent +over the curiously shaped bottle in delight, for when +the cork was drawn a fragrance filled the musty apartment +as from a bouquet.</p> +<p>“Blessings on the ancestor who laid down this +wine!” he muttered. “May his ghost wander in to +sniff it! These oly-koeks are not bad. I suppose this +man, Ten Breecheses, or whatever he is called, is at +once cook and housekeeper. Although I don’t think +much of his housekeeping,” ruminated Mauville, as +he observed a herculean spider weaving a web from +an old volume of Giraldus Cambrensis, antiquary, to +the classical works of one Joseph of Exeter. There +is a strong sympathy between wine and cobwebs, and +Mauville watched with increasing interest the uses to +which these ponderous tomes had sunk––but serving +the bloodthirsty purpose of the nimble architect, evolving +its delicate engineering problem in mid air.</p> +<p>A great blundering fly had just bobbed into the net +and the spider, with hideous, carnivorous zest, was +scrambling for it, when the guardian of the manor +returned with the family solicitor, a little man who +bore in his arms a bundle of papers which, after the +customary greetings, he spread upon the table. He +helped himself to a glass of burgundy and proceeded +forthwith to enter into the history of his trust.</p> +<p>Mynheer, the patroon, Mauville’s predecessor, a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span> +lonely, arrogant man, had held tenaciously to the immense +tracts of land acquired in the colonial days by +nominal purchase. He had never married, his desire +for an heir being discounted by his aversion for the +other sex, until as the days dragged on, he found himself +bed-ridden and childless in his old age. Unfortunately +the miser can not take his acres into Paradise, +and the patroon, with many an inward groan, +cast about him for some remote relative to whom he +would reluctantly transfer his earthly hereditaments. +These were two: one a man of piety, who prayed +with the tenants when they complained of their lot; +the other, Mauville, upon whom he had never set +eyes.</p> +<p>When the earliest patroons had made known to the +West India Company their intention of planting colonies +in New Netherland, they had issued attractive +maps to promote their colonization projects. Among +those who had been lured to America by these enticing +advertisements was an ancestor of Edward Mauville. +Incurring the displeasure of the governor for his godless +views, this Frenchman was sent to the pillory, or +whipping post, and his neighbors were about to cast +out the devil of irreverence in good old-fashioned +manner, when one of Mynheer’s daughters interceded, +carried off the handsome miscreant, and––such was her +imperious way!––married him! He was heard in after +years to aver that the whipping would have been the +milder punishment, but, be that as it may, a child was +born unto them who inherited the father’s adventuresome +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +and graceless character, deserted his home, joined +hands with some ocean-rovers and sailed for that pasture-ground +of buccaneers, the Caribbean sea. Of his +subsequent history various stories may be found in the +chronicles of New Orleans and Louisiana.</p> +<p>The only other person who might have any pretensions +to the estate was a reverend gentleman who +had been a missionary among the Indians, preaching +from a stump, and called “Little Thunder” +by the red men because of his powerful voice; a lineal +descendant of the Rev. Doctor Johannes Vanderklonk, +the first dominie of the patroons, who served for one +thousand guilders, payable in meat or drink, twenty-two +bushels of wheat and two firkins of butter. +He saved the souls of the savages, while the white +men cheated their bodies. Now and then, in those +early days, the children of the forest protested against +this evangelizing process and carried off the good +dominie to the torture stake, where they plucked out +his finger nails; but he returned with as much zest to +his task of landing these simple souls in Paradise as +those who employed him displayed in making an earthly +Paradise out of the lands the red men left behind +them.</p> +<p>When by this shrewd system the savages were +gradually saved, and incidentally exterminated, Little +Thunder’s occupation was gone and he became a pensioner +of Mynheer the Patroon, earning his bread by +an occasional sermon to the tenants, exhorting them +to thrift and industry, to be faithful and multiply, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span> +to pay their rents promptly. As Mynheer’s time drew +near he sent for his attorney and commanded him to +look up the life, deeds and character of Edward Mauville.</p> +<p>“This I did,” said the lawyer, “and here it is.” +Waving a roll of papers before his interested listener.</p> +<p>“A nauseating mess, no doubt,” carelessly remarked +the land baron.</p> +<p>“Oh, sir!” deprecated the lawyer, opening the roll. +“‘Item: Religion; pupil of the brilliant Jesuit, Abbé +Moneau. Item: Morals; Exhibit A, the affair with +Countess ––– in Paris, where he was sent to be educated +after the fashion of French families in New +Orleans; Exhibit B––’”</p> +<p>“Spare me,” exclaimed Mauville. “Life is wearisome +enough, but a biography––” He shrugged his +shoulders. “Come to your point.”</p> +<p>“Of course, sir, I was only trying to carry out his +instructions. The same, sir, as I would carry out +yours!” With an ingratiating smile. Whereupon the +attorney told how he had furnished the patroon this +roll and fastened it to his bed, so that he might wind and +unwind it, perusing it at his pleasure. This the dying +man did, sternly noting the damaging facts; thinking +doubtlessly how traits will endure for generations––aye, +for ages, in spite of the pillory!––the while Little +Thunder was roaring petitions to divinity by his bedside, +as though to bluster and bully the Almighty into +granting his supplications. The patroon glanced from +his pensioner to the roll; from the kneeling man to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +that prodigious list of peccadillos, and then he called +for a shilling, a coin still somewhat in use in America. +This he flipped thrice.</p> +<p>“<i>Roué</i> or sham,” he said the first time.</p> +<p>“Rake or hypocrite,” he exclaimed the second time.</p> +<p>“Devil or Pharisee,” he cried the third time.</p> +<p>He peered over the coin and sent for his attorney. +His soul passed away, mourned by Little Thunder +until the will was read, when his lamentations ceased; +he soundly berated Mynheer, the Patroon, in his coffin +and refused to go to his burying. Then he became an +ardent anti-renter, a leader of “bolters,” a thunderer of +the people’s cause, the devoted enemy of land barons +in general, and one patroon in particular, the foreign +heir of the manor.</p> +<p>“But let him thunder away, sir,” said Scroggs, +soothingly. “The estate’s yours now, for the old patroon +can’t come back to change his mind. He’s +buried sure enough in the grove, a dark and sombrous +spot as befitted his disposition, but restful withal. +Aye, and the marble slab’s above him, which reminds +me that only a month before he took to his bed he was +smoking his pipe on the porch, when his glance fell +upon the lifting-stone. Suddenly he strode towards it, +bent his back and raised it a full two inches. ‘So much +for age!’ said he, scoffing-like. But age heard him and +now he lies with a stone on him he can not lift, while +you, sir”––to his listener, deferentially––“are sole heir +to the estate and to the feud.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></div> +<p>“A feud goes with the property?” remarked Mauville +carelessly.</p> +<p>“The tenants object to paying rent,” replied Scroggs, +sadly. “They’re a sorry lot!”</p> +<p>“Evade their debts, do they?” said the land baron +languidly. “What presumption to imitate their betters! +That won’t do; I need the money.”</p> +<p>“They claim the rights of the landlord originated in +fraud––”</p> +<p>“No doubt!” Yawning. “My ancestors were +rogues!”</p> +<p>“Oh, sir”––deprecatorily.</p> +<p>“If the tenants don’t pay, turn them out,” interrupted +Mauville, listlessly, “if you have to depopulate the +country.”</p> +<p>Having come to an understanding with his client, +the lawyer arose to take his departure.</p> +<p>“By the way,” he said, obsequiously, selecting a yellow, +well-worn bit of paper from his bundle of documents, +“it may interest you to keep this yourself. It +is the original deed for all these lands from the squaw +Pewasch. You can see they were acquired for a few +shillings’ worth of ‘wet and dry goods’ and seventeen +and a half ells of duffels.”</p> +<p>“The old patroons could strike a rare bargain,” muttered +the heir, as he casually surveyed the ancient +deed, and then, folding it, placed it in his breast pocket. +“For a mere song was acquired––”</p> +<p>“A vast principality,” added the solicitor, waving his +hand toward the fields and meadows far in the distance.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_SAMPLING_THE_VINTAGES' id='CHAPTER_IX_SAMPLING_THE_VINTAGES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>SAMPLING THE VINTAGES</h3> +</div> +<p>Having started the wheels of justice fairly moving, +with Scroggs at the throttle, the new land baron soon +discovered that he was not in consonance with the +great commoner who said he was savage enough to +prefer the woods and wilds of Monticello to all the +pleasures of Paris. In other words, those rural delights +of his forefathers, the pleasures of a closer intimacy +with nature, awoke no responsive chord in Mauville’s +breast, and he began to tire before long of a +patriarchal existence and crullers and oly-koeks and +playing the fine lord in solitary grandeur.</p> +<p>The very extent of the deserted manor carried an +overwhelming sense of loneliness, especially at this +season when nature was dying and triumphal tints of +decay were replacing the vernal freshness of the forests, +flaunting gaudy vestments that could not, however, +conceal the sadness of the transition. The days +were growing shorter and the leaden-colored vapors, +driven by the whip of that taskmaster, the wind, replaced +the snow-white clouds becalmed in the tender +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +depths of ether. Soon would the hoar frost crystallize +on grass and fence, or the autumn rains descend, +dripping mournfully from the water spouts +and bubbling over the tubs. Already the character of +the dawn was changed to an almost sullen awakening +of the day, denoting a seeming uneasiness of the hidden +forces, while an angry passing of the glowing orb +replaced the Paphian sunset.</p> +<p>In nook and cranny, through the balustrades and +woody screens of the ancient house, penetrated the +wandering currents of air. The draperies waved mysteriously, +as by a hidden hand, and, at nightfall, the +floor of satin and rosewood creaked ominously as if beneath +the restless footsteps of former inmates, moving +from the somber hangings of the windows to the pearl-inlaid +harpsichord whose melody was gone, and thence +up the broad staircase, pausing naturally at the landing, +beneath which had assembled gay gatherings in +the colonial days. And such a heedless phantom +group––fine gentlemen in embroidered coats, bright +breeches, silk stockings and peruke, and, peeping +through ethereal lace wristbands, a white hand fit for +no sterner toil than to flourish with airy grace a gold-headed +cane; ladies with gleaming bare shoulders, +dressed in “cumbrous silk that with its rustling made +proud the flesh that bore it!” The imaginative listener +could almost distinguish these footfalls, as the blind +will recognize the tread of an unseen person.</p> +<p>To further add to the land baron’s dissatisfaction +over his heritage, “rent-day”––that all-important day in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span> +the olden times; when my lord’s door had been besieged +by the willing lease-holders, cheerful in rendering +unto Caesar what was due Caesar!––seemed to have +been dropped from the modern calendar, as many an +ancient holiday has gradually been lost in the whirligig +of time. No long procession now awaited the patroon’s +pleasure, when it should suit him to receive +the tribute of guilders, corn or meal; the day might +have been as obsolete as an Hellenic festival day to +Zeus, for all the observance it was accorded.</p> +<p>“Your notices, Scroggs, were wasted on the desert +air,” said the patroon, grimly, to that disappointed +worthy. “What’s the use of tenants who don’t pay? +Playing at feudal lord in modern times is a farce, +Scroggs. I wish we had lived about four hundred +years ago.”</p> +<p>“Yes, if four hundred years ago were now,” assented +the parasite, “I’d begin with Dick, the tollman! +He’s a regular Goliath and,”––his face becoming +purple––“when I threatened him with the law, threw +me out of the barn on an obnoxious heap of refuse.”</p> +<p>“You weren’t exactly a David, then?” laughed +the patroon, in spite of his bad humor.</p> +<p>“I’ll throw the stone yet,” said the little man, viciously +showing his yellow teeth. “The law’s the sling.”</p> +<p>That evening, when the broad meadows were inundated +by the shadow of the forest that crept over it +like an incoming tide, the land baron ordered lights +for every room. The manor shone in isolated grandeur +amid the gloomy fields, with the forest-wall +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +around it; radiant as of old, when strains of music had +been heard within and many figures passed the windows. +But now there was light, and not life, and a solitary +anti-renter on the lonely road regarded with surprise +the unusual illumination.</p> +<p>“What does it mean?” asked Little Thunder––for +it was he––waiting and watching, as without the gates +of Paradise.</p> +<p>Well might he ask, for the late Mynheer, the Patroon, +had been a veritable bat for darkness; a few +candles answered his purpose in the spacious rooms; +he played the prowler, not the grand lord; a recluse +who hovered over his wine butts in the cellar and gloated +over them, while he touched them not; a hermit +who lived half his time in the kitchen, bending over +the smoky fireplace, and not a lavender-scented gentleman +who aired himself in the drawing-room, a fine +fop with nothing but the mirrors to pay him homage. +Little Thunder, standing with folded arms in the dark +road, gloomy as Lucifer, almost expected to see the +brilliant fabric vanish like one of those palaces of joy +built by the poets.</p> +<p>Hour after hour passed, midnight had come and +gone, and still the lights glowed. Seated in the library, +with the curtains drawn, were the land baron and +Scroggs, a surveyor’s map between them and a dozen +bottles around them. Before Mauville stood several +glasses, containing wines of various vintages which +the land baron compared and sipped, held to the light +and inhaled after the manner of a connoisseur sampling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +a cellar. He was unduly dignified and stately, but the +attorney appeared decidedly groggy. The latter’s ideas +clashed against one another like pebbles in a child’s +rattle, and, if the round table may be supposed to represent +the earth, as the ancient geographers imagined +it, Scrogg’s face was surely the glowing moon shining +upon it.</p> +<p>Readily had the attorney lent himself to the new +order of procedure. With him it was: “The king +is dead! Long live the king!” He, who had found +but poor pickings under the former master––dry crust +fees for pleadings, demurrers or rejoinders––now anticipated +generous booty and spoil. Alert for such +crumbs as might fall from a bountiful table; keen +of scent for scraps and bits, but capable of a mighty +mouthful, he paid a courtier’s price for it all; wheedling, +pandering, ready for any service, ripe for any +revelry. With an adulator’s tact, he still strove strenuously +to hold the thread of his companion’s conversation, +as Mauville said:</p> +<p>“Too old, Scroggs; too old!” Setting down a glass +of burgundy in which fine particles floated through the +magenta-hued liquid. “It has lost its luster, like a +woman’s eyes when she has passed the meridian. Good +wine, like a woman, has its life. First, sweetly innocent, +delicately palatable, its blush like a maiden of +sixteen; then glowing with a riper development, more +passionate in hue, a siren vintage; finally, thin, waning +and watery, with only memories of the deeper, rosy-hued +days. Now here, my good, but muddled friend, +is your youthful maiden!” Holding toward the lamp +a glass, clear as crystal, with luster like a gem. “Dancing +eyes; a figure upright as a reed; the bearing of a +nymph; the soul of a water lily before it has opened +its leaves to the wooing moonlight!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-114.jpg' alt='' title='' width='363' height='545' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></div> +<p>“Lord! How you go on!” exclaimed Scroggs. +“What with a sampling this and sampling that, my +head’s going round like a top. If there’s anything in +the cellar the old patroons put down we haven’t tried, +sir, I beg to defer the sampling. I am of the sage’s +mind––‘Of all men who take wine, the moderate only +enjoy it,’ says Master Bacon, or some one else.”</p> +<p>“Pass the bottle!” answered the other. “Gently, +man! Don’t disturb its repose, and remember it disdains +the perpendicular.”</p> +<p>“So will I soon,” muttered Scroggs. “I hope you’ll +excuse me, sir, but that last drop of Veuve Cliquot was +the whip-cord that started the top going, and, on my +word”––raising his hands to his head––“I feel like +holding it on to keep it from spinning off.”</p> +<p>“Spinning or not, you shall try this vintage”––the +young man’s eyes gleamed with such fire as shone in +the glass––“and drink to Constance Carew!”</p> +<p>“Constance Carew!” stammered the other, desperately +swallowing the toast.</p> +<p>Mauville slowly emptied the glass. “A balsamic +taste, slightly piquant but agreeable,” he observed. +“A dangerous wine, Scroggs! It carries no warning; +your older kind is like a world-worn coquette whose +glances at once place you on the defensive. This +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +maiden vintage, just springing into glorious womanhood, +comes over you like a springtime dream.”</p> +<p>“Who––who is she?” muttered Scroggs.</p> +<p>“She is not in the scroll you prepared for my +lamented kinsman, eh? They are, for the most part, +deep red, dark scarlet––that list of fair dames! She +doesn’t belong to them––yet! No title, man; not even +a society lady. A stroller, which is next door to a +vagrant.”</p> +<p>“Well, sir, she’s a woman and that’s enough,” replied +the lawyer. “And my opinion is, it’s better to +have nothing to do with ’em.”</p> +<p>This sententious remark seemed to arouse Scroggs +to momentary vivacity.</p> +<p>“Now there was my Lord Hamerton, whose picture +is upstairs,” he went on quickly, like a man who +is bent on grasping certain ideas before they escape +him. “He brought a beautiful woman here––carried +her off, they say from England––and installed her as +mistress of the manor. I have heard my father say +that his great-grandfather, who was my lord’s solicitor, +said that before his death my lord desired to make her +his wife, having been brought to a sense of the sinful +life he had led by a Puritan preacher. But at that, +this woman straightened herself up, surveyed him with +scorn, and, laughing like a witch, answered: ‘They +say marriages are made in heaven, my lord––and you +are the devil!’ So my lord died without having +atoned, and, as for my lady who refused to become an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +honest woman, I am sure she was damned!” concluded +Scroggs triumphantly.</p> +<p>“No doubt! So this wicked lord abducted her, +Scroggs?” he added thoughtfully. “A man of spirit, +until the Puritans got after him and showed him the +burning pit and frightened him to that virtue which +was foreign to his inclinations. My lady was right in +refusing to honor such a paltry scoundrel with her +hand. But it takes courage, Scroggs, to face everlasting +damnation.”</p> +<p>“They say, too, there was a spice of revenge about +her unwillingness to give her hand to my lord,” resumed +the narrator, unmindful of the interruption. +“This Puritan father said nothing but marriage with +her would save Hamerton from the sulphurous flames +and so my lady refused to sanctify their relations and +rescue her lord from perdition!”</p> +<p>“A pleasant revenge!” laughed the land baron. “He +made life a hell for her and she gave him an eternity +of it. But take a little of this white wine, man. We’ve +drunk to the roses of desire, and now should drink to +the sanctified lilies. Her neck, Scroggs, is like a lily, +and her hand and her brow! Beneath that whiteness, +her eyes shine with a tenderness inviting rays of passion +to kindle them. Drink!”</p> +<p>But the other gave a sudden lurch forward. “My +lady––refused––perdition!” he muttered, and his head +dropped to the board.</p> +<p>“Wake up, man, and drink!” commanded the master.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></div> +<p>“Jush same––they ought to have been married,” said +his companion drowsily. “They lived together so––so +ill!” And then to place himself beyond reach of further +temptation from the bottle, he quietly and naturally +slid under the table.</p> +<p>The patroon arose, strode to the window, which he +lifted, and the night air entered, fanning his hot brow. +The leaves, on high, rustled like falling rain. The +elms tossed their branches, striking one another in +blind confusion. The long grass whispered as the +breeze stirred it like the surface of an inland lake. +Withering flowers gave up their last perfume, while +a storm-cloud fled wildly across the heavens. Some +of the restlessness of the external world disturbed that +silent dark figure at the window; within him, conflicting +passions jarred like the boughs of the trees and +his fancies surged like the eddying leaves.</p> +<p>“The roses of desire––the sanctified lilies!” he muttered.</p> +<p>As he stood there the stars grew pale; the sky trembled +and quivered before the advent of morn. A +heavy footstep fell behind him, and, turning, he beheld +the care-taker.</p> +<p>“Not in bed yet, Oly-koeks?” cheerfully said the +land baron.</p> +<p>“I am just up.”</p> +<p>“In that case, it is time for me to retire,” returned +the master, with a yawn. “This is a dull place, Oly-koeks; +no life; no variety. Nothing going on!”</p> +<p>The servant glanced at the formidable array of bottles. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +“And he calls this a quiet life!” thought the +care-taker, losing his impassiveness and viewing the +table with round-eyed wonder.</p> +<p>“Nothing going on?” he said aloud. “Mynheer, +the Patroon, complained of too much life here, with +people taking farms all around. But, if you are dull, +a farmer told me last night there was a company of +strolling players in Vanderdonkville––”</p> +<p>“Strollers!” exclaimed Mauville, wheeling around. +“What are they called?”</p> +<p>“Lord; I don’t know, sir. They’re show-folks, and +that’s all––”</p> +<p>“Do many strolling players come this way?”</p> +<p>“Not for weeks and months, sometimes! The old +patroon ordered the <i>schout</i> to arrest them if they entered +the <i>wyck</i>.”</p> +<p>“Is Vanderdonkville in the <i>wyck</i>?” asked the land +baron quickly.</p> +<p>“No. It was separated from the <i>wyck</i> when Rickert +Jacobus married––”</p> +<p>“Never mind the family genealogy! Have the +coach ready at nine––”</p> +<p>“To-night?”</p> +<p>“This morning,” replied Mauville, lightly. “And, +meanwhile, put this to bed,” indicating Scroggs, who +was now snoring like a bag-pipe with one arm lovingly +wound around a leg of the library table.</p> +<p>The care-taker hoisted the attorney on his broad +shoulders, his burden still piping as they crossed the +hall and mounted the stairway. Having deposited +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +his load within the amazing depths of a Dutch feather +mattress, where he lay well-nigh lost to sight, but not +unheard, the <i>wacht-meester</i> of the <i>steyn</i> left him to +well-earned slumber and descended to the kitchen.</p> +<p>At the appointed hour, the land baron, freshly +shaven, not a jaded line in his face, and elastic in +step, appeared on the front porch before which his +carriage was waiting.</p> +<p>“When shall I expect you back?” asked Oly-koeks, +who had reappeared at the sound of his master’s footsteps.</p> +<p>“Any time or never!” laughed the patroon, springing +into the vehicle.</p> +<p>But as he drove through a bit of wood, wrapped in +pleasing reflections, he received startling proof that +the warfare between landlord and tenants had indeed +begun in earnest, for a great stone suddenly crashed +through the window of the vehicle, without, however, +injuring the occupant. Springing from his carriage, +Mauville dashed through the fringe of wood, discharging +his revolver at what he fancied was a fleeing figure. +But a fluttering in the trees from the startled +birds was the only result.</p> +<p>Little Thunder was too spry to be caught by even a +pursuing bullet.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_SEALING_THE_COMPACT' id='CHAPTER_X_SEALING_THE_COMPACT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>SEALING THE COMPACT</h3> +</div> +<p>“The show troupe has come to town,” said the tall, +lank postmaster to every one who called, and the words +passed from mouth to mouth, so that those who did +not witness the arrival were soon aware of it. Punchinello +and his companions never attracted more attention +from the old country peasants than did the chariot +and its occupants, as on the day after their night in +the woods they passed through the main thoroughfare +of the village where they were soon to appear.</p> +<p>Children in woolen dresses of red retinet, or in +calico vandykes and aprons, ran after the ponderous +vehicle with cries of delight; the staid, mature contingent +of the population shook their heads disapprovingly, +while viewing with wonder the great lumbering +coach, its passengers inside and out, and, behind, the +large wagon with its load of miscellaneous trappings. +Now on the stage throne lolled the bass viol +player, even as Jacques assumed the raiment of the +Duke of Aranza, reclining the while in his chair of +state. Contentment was written upon his face, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +he was as much a duke or a king, as Jacques when he +swelled like a shirt bleaching in a high wind and looked +burly as a Sunday beadle.</p> +<p>The principal avenue of the village boasted but +few prosperous-looking business establishments. In +the general “mixed store,” farmers’ implements, groceries, +West India goods and even drugs were dispensed. +But the apothecary’s trade then had its limitations, +homeopathy being unknown, while calomel, +castor oil and rhubarb were mainly in demand, as well +as senna, manna and other bitter concoctions with +which both young and old were freely dosed. The +grocer, haberdasher, and druggist, all rolled into one +substantial personage, so blocked the doorway of his +own establishment, while gazing at the strollers, it +would have puzzled a customer, though but a “sketch +and outline” of a man, to have slipped in or out. +Dashing as in review before the rank and file of the +village, the coach, with an extra flourish, rattled up +to the hotel, a low but generous-sized edifice, with a +wide, comfortable veranda, upon the railing of which +was an array of boots, and behind them a number of +disconsolate-looking teamsters.</p> +<p>“You want to register, do you?” said the landlord +in answer to Barnes’ inquiry, as the latter entered the +office, the walls of which were covered with advertisements +of elections, auctions, sales of stock, lands and +quack medicines.</p> +<p>“We don’t keep no register,” continued the landlord, +“but I guess we can accommodate you, although the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span> +house is rather full with the fellers from the ark. Or,” +he added, by way of explanation in answer to the manager’s +look of surprise, “Philadelphia freight wagons, +I suppose you would call them. But we speak of +them as arks, because they take in all creation. Them’s +the occupants, making a Mount Ararat of the porch. +They’re down-hearted, because they used to liquor up +here and now they can’t, for the town’s temperance.”</p> +<p>“I trust, nevertheless, you are prepared for a season +of legitimate drama,” suggested Barnes.</p> +<p>The other shook his head dubiously. “The town’s +for lectures clear through,” he answered. “They’ve +been making a big fuss about show folks.”</p> +<p>The manager’s countenance did not fall, however, +upon hearing this announcement; on the contrary, it +shed forth inscrutable satisfaction.</p> +<p>No sooner were they settled in far from commodious +quarters than preparations for the future were +seriously begun; and now the drama proceeded apace, +with Barnes, the moving spirit. Despite his assertion +that he was no scholar, the manager’s mind was +the storehouse of a hundred plays, and in that depository +were many bags of gold and many bags of chaff. +From this accumulation he drew freely, frankly, in +the light-fingered fashion of master playwrights and +lesser theatrical thimble-riggers.</p> +<p>Before the manager was a table––the stage!––upon +which were scattered miscellaneous articles, symbols +of life and character. A stately salt-cellar represented +the leading lady; a pepper box, the irascible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +father; a rotund mustard pot, the old woman; a long, +slim cruet, the <i>ingenue</i>; and a pewter spoon, the lover.</p> +<p>Barnes gravely demonstrated the action of the +scene to Saint-Prosper, and the soldier became +collaborator, “abandoning, as it were,” wrote the +manager in his autobiographical date-book and +diary, “the sword for the pen, and the glow of the +Champ de Mars for the glimmer of a kerosene lamp.” +And yet not with the inclination of Burgoyne, or +other military gentlemen who have courted the buskin +and sock! On the contrary, so foreign was the occupation +to his leaning, that often a whimsical light in +his eye betrayed his disinclination and modest disbelief +in his own fitness for the task. “He said the way +I laid out an act reminded him of planning a campaign, +with the outriders and skirmishers before; the cavalry +arrayed for swift service, and the infantry marching +steadily on, carrying with them the main plot, or +strength of the movement.”</p> +<p>No sooner were the Salt Cellar and Pepper Box reunited, +and the Pewter Spoon clasped in the arms of +the loving Cruet, with the curtain descending, than +Barnes, who like the immortal Alcibiades Triplet could +turn his hand to almost anything, became furiously engaged +in painting scenery. A market-place, with a +huge wagon, containing porkers and poultry, was +dashed off with a celerity that would have made a +royal academician turn green with envy. The Tiddly +Wink Inn was so faithfully reproduced that the painted +bottles were a real temptation, while on the pastoral +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span> +green of a rural landscape grazed sheep so life-like +that, as Hawkes observed, it actually seemed “they +would eat the scenery all up.” But finally sets and play +were alike finished, and results demonstrated that the +manager was correct in his estimate of such a drama, +which became a forerunner of other pieces of this +kind, “The Bottle,” “Fruits of the Wine Cup,” “Aunt +Dinah’s Pledge,” and “Ten Nights in a Bar Room.”</p> +<p>In due time the drama was given in the town hall, +after the rehearsals had been witnessed by a committee +from the temperance league, who reported that the +play “could not but exercise a good influence and was +entertaining withal ... We recommend the license +to be issued and commend the drama to all Good +Templars.” Therefore, the production was not only +well attended, but play and players were warmly received. +The town hall boasted a fairly commodious +platform which now served the purpose of a stage, +and––noteworthy circumstance!––there were gas jets +for footlights, the illuminating fluid having at that +early date been introduced in several of the more progressive +villages. Between the acts, these yellow +lights were turned low, and––running with the current +of popular desire––the orchestra, enlarged to +four, played, by special request, “The Old Oaken +Bucket.”</p> +<p>The song had just sprung into popularity, and, in a +moment, men, women and children had added their +voices to the instruments. It was not the thrill of temperance +fanaticism that stirred their hearts, but it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span> +the memories of the old pioneer home in the wilderness; +the rail-splitting, road-building days; the ancient +rites of “raisings” and other neighborly ceremonies; +when the farmer cut rye with a cradle, and threshed it +out with his flail; when “butter and eggs were pin +money” and wheat paid the store-keeper.</p> +<p>“How solemnly they take their amusements in the +North, Mr. Barnes!” exclaimed a voice in one of the +entrances. “What a contrast to the South––the wicked +South!”</p> +<p>The manager turned sharply.</p> +<p>“We are mere servants of the public, Mr. Mauville.”</p> +<p>“And the public is master, Mr. Barnes! How the +dramatic muse is whipped around! In Greece, she +was a goddess; in Rome, a hussy; in England, a +sprightly dame; now, a straight-laced Priscilla. But +you have a recruit, I see?”</p> +<p>“You mean Saint-Prosper?”</p> +<p>“Yes, and I can hardly blame him––under the circumstances!” +murmured the land baron, at the same +time glancing around as though seeking some one.</p> +<p>“Circumstances! What circumstances?” demanded +the manager.</p> +<p>“Why, the pleasant company he finds himself in, of +course,” said the visitor, easily. “Ah, I see Miss +Carew,” he added, his eye immediately lightening, +“and must congratulate her on her performance. +Cursed dusty hole, isn’t it?” Brushing himself with +his handkerchief as he moved away.</p> +<p>“What business has he behind the scenes anyway?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span> +grumbled the manager. “Dusty hole, indeed! Confound +his impudence!” But his attention being drawn +to the pressing exigencies of a first night, Barnes soon +forgot his irritation over this unwarranted intrusion +in lowering a drop, hoisting a fly or readjusting a flat +to his liking.</p> +<p>The land baron meanwhile crossed to the semi-darkness +at the rear of the stage behind the boxed +scene, where he had observed the young girl waiting +for the curtain to rise on the last act. A single light +on each side served partly to relieve the gloom; to +indicate the frame-work of the set scene and throw in +shadow various articles designed for use in the play. +As she approached Mauville, who stood motionless in +an unlighted spot, the pale glow played upon her a +moment, white on her neck, in sheen on the folds of +her gown, and then she stepped into the shadow, where +she was met by a tall figure, with hand eagerly outstretched.</p> +<p>“Mr. Mauville!” she exclaimed, drawing back at +the suddenness of the encounter.</p> +<p>His restless eyes held hers, but his greeting was +conventional.</p> +<p>“Did I not say the world was small and that we +might meet again?”</p> +<p>“Of course, we are always meeting people and parting +from them,” she replied unconcernedly.</p> +<p>He laughed. “With what delightful indifference +you say that! You did not think to see me again?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span></div> +<p>“I hadn’t thought about it,” she answered, frankly, +annoyed by his persistence.</p> +<p>“I am unfortunate!” he said.</p> +<p>Beneath his free gaze she changed color, as though +the shadow of a rose had touched her face.</p> +<p>“You are well?” he continued.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“I need not have asked.” His expression conveyed +more––so much more, she bit her lip impatiently. +“How do you like the new part?”</p> +<p>“It is hard to tell yet,” she answered evasively.</p> +<p>“You would do justice to any rôle, but I prefer you +in a historical or romantic play, with the picturesque +old costumes. If it were in my domains, you should +appear in those dramas, if I had to hang every justice +of the peace in the district.”</p> +<p>Her only response was a restless movement and he +hastened to add: “I fear, however, I am detaining +you.”</p> +<p>He drew aside with such deference to permit her to +pass that her conscience smote her and she was half-minded +to turn and leave him more graciously, but +this impulse was succeeded by another feeling, ill-defined, +the prevailing second thought. Had she looked, +she would have seen that her fluttering shawl touched +his hand and he quickly raised it to his lips, releasing +it immediately. As it was, she moved on, unaware of +the gesture. The orchestra, or rather string quartet, +had ceased; Hans, a host in himself, a mountain of +melody, bowed his acknowledgments; the footlights +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +glared, the din of voices subsiding; and the curtain +rose.</p> +<p>Remaining in the background, the land baron +watched the young girl approach the entrance to the +stage, where she stood, intent, one hand resting against +the scenery, her dress upheld with the other; the +glimmer from the footlights, reflected through the +opening, touching her face; suddenly, with a graceful +movement, she vanished, and her laughing voice +seemed to come from afar.</p> +<p>Was it for this he had made his hasty journey? To +be treated with indifference by a wandering player; +he, the patroon, the unsuccessful suitor of a stroller! +She, who appeared in taverns, in barns, perhaps, was +as cold and proud as any fine lady, untroubled about +the morrow, and, as he weighed this phase of the matter, +the land baron knew not whether he loved her +most for her beauty or hated her for the slight she put +upon him. But love or hate, it was all one, and he +told himself he would see the adventure to the end.</p> +<p>“How do you do, Mr. Mauville?” said a gay but +hushed voice, interrupting his ruminations, and Susan, +in a short skirt and bright stockings, greeted him.</p> +<p>“The better for seeing you, Mistress Susan.” Nonchalantly +surveying her from head to foot.</p> +<p>She bore his glance with the assurance of a pretty +woman who knows she is looking her best.</p> +<p>“Pooh!” Curtesying disdainfully. “I don’t believe +you! You came to see some one else. Well”––lightly––“she +is already engrossed.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></div> +<p>“Really?” said the land baron.</p> +<p>“Yes. You understand? He follows her with his +every glance,” she added roguishly. Susan was never +averse to straining the truth a little when it served +her purpose.</p> +<p>“I should infer he was following her with more +than his eyes,” retorted the master of the manor dryly.</p> +<p>Susan tapped the stage viciously with a little foot. +“She’s a lovely girl,” she continued, drawing cabalistic +figures with the provoking slipper.</p> +<p>“You are piqued?” he said, watching her skeptically.</p> +<p>“Not at all.” Quickly, startled by his blunt accusation.</p> +<p>“Not a little jealous?” he persisted playfully.</p> +<p>“Jealous?” Then with a frown, hesitatingly: +“Well, she is given prominence in the plays and––”</p> +<p>“––You would not be subordinated, if she were not +in the company? Apart from this, you are fond of +her?”</p> +<p>The foot ceased its tracing and rested firmly on the +floor.</p> +<p>“I hate her!” snapped Susan, angered by this baiting. +No sooner had she spoken than she regretted +her outburst. “How you draw one out! I was only +joking––though she does have the best parts and we +take what we can get!”</p> +<p>“But she’s a lovely girl!” concluded the land baron. +Susan’s eyes flashed angrily.</p> +<p>“How clever of you! You twist and turn one’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +words about and give them a different meaning from +what was intended. If I wanted to catch you up––”</p> +<p>“A truce!” he exclaimed. “Let us take each other +seriously, hereafter. Is it agreed?” She nodded. +“Well, seriously, you can help me and help yourself.”</p> +<p>“How?” doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Why not be allies?”</p> +<p>“What for?”</p> +<p>“Mutual service.”</p> +<p>“Oh!” dubiously.</p> +<p>“A woman’s ‘yes’!”</p> +<p>“No,” with affirmative answer in her eyes.</p> +<p>He believed the latter.</p> +<p>“We will seal the compact then.”</p> +<p>And he bent over and saluted Mistress Susan on the +lips. She became as rosy as the flowers she carried +and tapped him playfully with them.</p> +<p>“For shame! La! What must you think of me?”</p> +<p>“That you are an angel.”</p> +<p>“How lovely! But I must go.”</p> +<p>“May I see you after the play?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Do not fail me, or the soldier will not transfer his +affections to you!”</p> +<p>“If he dared!” And she shook her head defiantly +as she tripped away.</p> +<p>“Little fool!” murmured Mauville, his lips curling +scornfully. “The one is a pastime; the other”––he +paused and caught his breath––“a passion!”</p> +<p>But he kept his appointment with Susan, escorting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +her to the hotel, where he bade her good-night with a +lingering pressure of the hand, and––ordered his +equipage to the door!</p> +<p>“Hadn’t you better wait until morning?” asked +the surprised landlord, when the young patroon announced +his intention of taking an immediate departure. +“There are the barn-burners and––traveling +at night––”</p> +<p>“Have they turned footpads?” was the light reply. +“Can’t I drive through my own lands? Let me see +one of their thieving faces––” And he made a significant +gesture. “Not ride at night! These Jacobins +shall not prevent me.”</p> +<p>Barring the possible danger from the lease-holders +who were undoubtedly ripe for any mischief, the journey +did not promise such discomfiture as might have +been expected, the coach being especially constructed +for night traveling. On such occasions, between the +seats the space was filled by a large cushion, adapted +to the purpose, which in this way converted the interior +of the vehicle into a sleeping-room of limited dimensions. +With pillows to neutralize the jarring, the land +baron stretched himself indolently upon his couch, and +gazed through the window at the crystalline lights of +the heavens, while thoughts of lease-holders and barn-burners +faded into thin air.</p> +<p>At dawn, when he opened his eyes, the morning +star yet gleamed with a last pale luster. Raising himself +on his elbow and looking out over the country to +learn his whereabouts, his eye fell upon a tree, blood-red, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +a maple amid evergreens. Behind this somber +community of pines, stiff as a band of Puritan elders, +surrounding the bright-hued maple, a Hester in that +austere congregation, appeared the glazed tile roof of +Little Thunder’s habitation, a two-story abode of modest +proportions and olden type. As the land baron +passed, a brindle cow in the side yard saluted the morn, +calling the sluggard from his couch, but at the manor, +which the patroon shortly reached, the ever wakeful +Oly-koeks was already engaged in chopping wood near +the kitchen door. The growling of the hound at his +feet called the care-taker’s attention to the master’s +coming, and, driving the ax into an obstinate stick of +hickory, he donned his coat, drawing near the vehicle, +where he stood in stupid wonderment as the land baron +alighted.</p> +<p>“Any callers, Oly-koeks?” carelessly asked the +master.</p> +<p>“A committee of barn-burners, Mynheer, to ask you +not to serve any more writs.”</p> +<p>“And so give them time to fight me with the lawmakers! +But there; carry my portmanteau into the +library and”––as Oloffe’s upper lip drew back––“teach +your dog to know me.”</p> +<p>“He belonged to the old master, Mynheer. When +he died, the dog lay near his grave day and night.”</p> +<p>“I dare say; like master, like dog! But fetch the +portmanteau, you Dutch varlet!” Entering the house, +while the coachman drove the tired horses toward the +barn. “There’s something in it I want. Bring it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span> +here.” As he passed into the library. “Yes; I put it +in there, I am sure. Ah, here we have it!” And unpacking +the valise, he took therefrom a handsome +French writing case.</p> +<p>“Thou Wily Limb of the Law,” wrote the patroon, +“be it known by these presents, thou art summoned to +appear before me! I have work for you––not to serve +any one with a writ; assign; bring an action, or any +of your rascally, pettifogging tricks! Send me no demurrer, +but your own intemperate self.”</p> +<p>Which epistle the patroon addressed to his legal +satellite and despatched by messenger.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_THE_QUEST_OF_THE_SOLDIER' id='CHAPTER_XI_THE_QUEST_OF_THE_SOLDIER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p>Several bleak days were followed by a little June +weather in October. A somnolent influence rested +everywhere. Above the undulation of land on the +horizon were the clouds, like heavenly hills, reflecting +their radiance on those earthly elevations. The celestial +mountains and valleys gave wondrous perspective +to the outlook, and around them lay an atmosphere, +unreal and idyllic.</p> +<p>On such a morning Susan stood at a turn in the +road, gazing after a departing vehicle with ill-concealed +satisfaction and yet withal some dubiousness. +Now that the plan, suggested by Mauville, had not +miscarried, certain misgivings arose, for there is a +conscience in the culmination wanting in the conception +of an act. As the partial realization of the situation +swept over her, she gave a gasp, and then, the +vehicle having meanwhile vanished, a desperate spirit +of bravado replaced her momentary apprehension. +She even laughed nervously as she waved her handkerchief +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +in the direction the coach had taken: “<i>Bon +voyage!</i>”</p> +<p>But as the words fell from the smiling lips, her eyes +became thoughtful and her hand fell to her side; it +occurred to Susan she would be obliged to divert suspicion +from herself. The curling lips straightened; +she turned abruptly and hastened toward the town. +But her footsteps soon lagged and she paused thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“If I reach the hotel too soon,” she murmured, +“they may overtake him.”</p> +<p>So she stopped at the wayside, attracted by the brilliant +cardinal flowers, humming as she plucked them, +but ever and anon glancing around guiltily. The absurd +thought came to her that the bright autumn +blossoms were red, the hue of sin, and she threw +them on the sward, and unconsciously rubbed her +hands on her dress.</p> +<p>Still she lingered, however, vaguely mindful she was +adding to her burden of ill-doing, but finally again +started slowly toward the village, hurrying as she approached +the hotel, where she encountered the soldier +on the veranda. Her distressed countenance and +haste proclaimed her a messenger of disaster.</p> +<p>“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” she exclaimed excitedly. +“Where is Mr. Barnes?”</p> +<p>“What is the matter, Miss Duran?” Suspecting +very little was the matter, for Susan was nothing, if +not all of a twitter.</p> +<p>“Constance has been carried off!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span></div> +<p>“Carried off!” He regarded her as if he thought +she had lost her senses.</p> +<p>“Yes; abducted!”</p> +<p>“Abducted! By whom?”</p> +<p>“I––I did not see his face!” she gasped. “And it is +all my fault! I asked her to take a walk! Oh, what +shall I do?” Wringing her hands in anguish that was +half real. “We kept on and on––it was so pleasant!––until +we had passed far beyond the outskirts of the +village. At a turn in the road stood a coach––a cloak +was thrown over my head by some one behind––I must +have fainted, and, when I recovered, she was gone. +Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”</p> +<p>“When did it happen?” As he spoke the young +man left the veranda. Grazing contentedly near the +porch was his horse and Saint-Prosper’s hand now +rested on the bridle.</p> +<p>“I can’t tell how long I was unconscious,” said the +seemingly hysterical young woman, “but I hurried +here as soon as I recovered myself.”</p> +<p>“Where did it occur? Down the road you came?”</p> +<p>“Ye-es.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper vaulted into the saddle. “Tell the +manager to see a magistrate,” he said.</p> +<p>“But you’re not going to follow them alone?” began +Susan. “Oh dear, I feel quite faint again! If you +would please help me into the––”</p> +<p>By way of answer, the other touched his horse +deeply with the spur and the mettlesome animal +reared and plunged, then, recalled by the sharp voice +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +of the rider, galloped wildly down the road. Susan +observed the sudden departure with mingled emotions.</p> +<p>“How quixotic!” she thought discontentedly. +“But he won’t catch them,” came the consoling afterthought, +as she turned to seek the manager.</p> +<p>Soon the soldier, whose spirited dash down the main +thoroughfare had awakened some misgivings in the +little town, was beyond the precincts of village scrutiny. +The country road was hard, although marked +by deep cuts from traffic during a rainy spell, and the +horse’s hoofs rang out with exhilarating rhythm. Regardless +of all save the distance traversed, the rider +yet forbore to press the pace, relaxing only when, +after a considerable interval, he came to another road +and drew rein at the fork. One way to the right ran +gently through the valley, apparently terminating in +the luxuriant foliage, while the other, like a winding, +murky stream, stretched out over a more level tract +of land.</p> +<p>Which thoroughfare had the coach taken? Dismounting, +the young man hastily examined the +ground, but the earth was so dry and firm, and the +tracks of wheels so many, it was impossible to distinguish +the old marks from the new. Even sign-post +there was none; the roads diverged, and the soldier +could but blindly surmise their destination, selecting +after some hesitation the thoroughfare running into +the gorgeous, autumnal painted forest.</p> +<p>He had gone no inconsiderable distance when his +doubts were abruptly confirmed. Reaching an opening, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +bright as the chapel of a darkened monastery, he +discerned a farmer in a buckboard approaching from +the opposite direction. The swift pace of the rider +and the leisurely jog of the team soon brought them +together.</p> +<p>“Did you pass a coach down the road?” asked the +soldier.</p> +<p>“No-a,” said the farmer, deliberately, as his fat +horses instinctively stood stock still; “didn’t pass nobody.”</p> +<p>“Have you come far?”</p> +<p>“A good ways.”</p> +<p>“You would have met a coach, if it had passed here +an hour ago?”</p> +<p>“I guess I would,” said the man. “This road leads +straight across the country.”</p> +<p>“Where does the other road at the fork go?”</p> +<p>“To the patroon village. There’s a reform orator +there to-day and a barn-burners’ camp-fire.”</p> +<p>Without waiting to thank his informant, Saint-Prosper +pulled his horse quickly around, while the +man in the buckboard gradually got under way, until +he had once more attained a comfortable, slow gait. +Indeed, by the time his team had settled down to a +sleepy jog, in keeping with the dreamy haze, hanging +upon the upland, his questioner was far down the road.</p> +<p>When, however, the soldier once more reached the +fork, and took the winding way across a more level +country, he moderated his pace, realizing the need of +husbanding his horse’s powers of endurance. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span> +country seemed at peace, as though no dissension nor +heated passions could exist within that pastoral province. +And yet, not far distant, lay the domains of the +patroons, the hot-bed of the two opposing branches of +the Democratic party: The “hunkers,” or conservative-minded +men, and the “barn-burners,” or progressive +reformers, who sympathized with the anti-renters.</p> +<p>After impatiently riding an hour or more through +this delectable region, the horseman drew near the +patroon village, a cluster of houses amid the hills and +meadows. Here the land barons had originally built +for the tenants comfortable houses and ample barns, +saw and grist mills. But the old homes had crumbled +away, and that rugged ancestry of dwellings had been +replaced by a new generation of houses, with clapboards, +staring green blinds and flimsy verandas.</p> +<p>In the historic market place, as Saint-Prosper rode +down the street, were assembled a number of lease-holders +of both sexes and all ages, from the puny +babe in arms to the decrepit crone and hoary grand-sire, +listening to the flowing tongue of a rustic speech-maker. +This forum of the people was shaded by a +sextette of well-grown elms. The platform of the local +Demosthenes stood in a corner near the street.</p> +<p>“‘Woe to thee, O Moab! Thou art undone, O people +of Chemosh,’ if you light not the torch of equal +rights!” exclaimed the platform patterer as Saint-Prosper +drew near. “Awake, sons of the free soil! +Now is the time to make a stand! Forswear all allegiance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +to the new patroon; this Southern libertine and +despot from the land of slavery!”</p> +<p>The grandam wagged her head approvingly; the +patriarch stroked his beard with acquiescence and +strong men clenched their fists as the spokesman +mouthed their real or fancied wrongs. It was an +earnest, implacable crowd; men with lowering brows +merely glanced at the soldier as he rode forward; +women gazed more intently, but were quickly lured +back by the tripping phrases of the mellifluous speaker.</p> +<p>On the outskirts of the gathering, near the road, +stood a tall, beetling individual whom Saint-Prosper +addressed, reining in his horse near the wooden rail, +which answered for a fence.</p> +<p>“Dinna ye ken I’m listening?” impatiently retorted +the other, with a fierce frown. “Gang your way, +mon,” he added, churlishly, as he turned his back.</p> +<p>Judging from the wrathful faces directed toward +him, the lease-holders esteemed Saint-Prosper a political +disturber, affiliating with the other faction of the +Democratic party, and bent, perhaps, on creating +dissension at the tenants’ camp-fire. The soldier’s impatience +and anger were ready to leap forth at a word; +he wheeled fiercely upon the weedy Scot, to demand +peremptorily the information so uncivilly withheld, +when a gust of wind blowing something light down the +road caused his horse to shy suddenly and the rider +to glance at what had frightened the animal. After a +brief scrutiny, he dismounted quickly and examined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span> +more attentively the object,––a pamphlet with a red +cover, upon which appeared the printed design of the +conventional Greek masks of Tragedy and Comedy, +and beneath, the title, “The Honeymoon.” The bright +binding, albeit soiled by the dusty road, and the fluttering +of the leaves in the breeze had startled the horse +and incidentally attracted the attention of his master. +Across the somber mask of melancholy was traced in +buoyant hand the name of the young actress.</p> +<p>But the soldier needed not the confirmation, for +had he not noticed this same prompt book in her lap +on the journey of the chariot? It was a mute, but +eloquent message. Could she have spoken more +plainly if she had written with ink and posted the +missive with one of those new bronze-hued portraits +of Franklin, called stamps by the government and +“sticking plaster” by the people? Undoubtedly she +had hoped the manager was following her when she +intrusted the message to that erratic postman, Chance, +who plied his vocation long before the black Washington +or the bronze Franklin was a talisman of more +or less uncertain delivery.</p> +<p>The soldier, without a moment’s hesitation, thrust +the pamphlet inside his coat, flung himself on his horse, +and, turning from the market-place, dashed down the +road.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_AN_ECCENTRIC_JAILER' id='CHAPTER_XII_AN_ECCENTRIC_JAILER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>AN ECCENTRIC JAILER</h3> +</div> +<p>“For a man who can’t abide the sex, this <i>is</i> a predicament,” +muttered the patroon’s jackal, as the coach +in which he found himself sped rapidly along the +highway. “Here am I as much an abductor as my lord +who whipped his lady from England to the colonies!” +Gloomily regarding a motionless figure on the seat +opposite, and a face like ivory against the dark cushions. +“Curse the story; telling it led to this! How +white she is; like driven snow; almost as if––”</p> +<p>And Scroggs, whose countenance lost a shade of its +natural flush, going from flame-color to salmon hue, +bent with sudden apprehension over a small hand which +hung from the seat.</p> +<p>“No; it’s only a swoon,” he continued, relieved, feeling +her wrist with his knobby fingers. “How she +struggled! If it hadn’t been for smothering her with +the cloak––but the job’s done and that’s the end of it.”</p> +<p>Settling back in his seat he watched her discontentedly, +alternately protesting against the adventure, and +consoling himself weakly with the remembrance of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +retainer; weighing the risks, and the patroon’s ability +to gloss over the matter; now finding the former unduly +obtrusive, again comforted with the assurance of +the power pre-empted by the land barons. Moreover, +the task was half-accomplished, and it would be idle +to recede now.</p> +<p>“Why couldn’t the patroon have remained content +with his bottle?” he grumbled. “But his mind must +needs run to this frivolous and irrational proceeding! +There’s something reasonable in pilfering a purse, +but carrying off a woman––Yet she’s a handsome +baggage.”</p> +<p>Over the half-recumbent figure swept his glance, +pausing as he surveyed her face, across which flowed +a tress of hair loosened in the struggle. Save for the +unusual pallor of her cheek, she might have been sleeping, +but as he watched her the lashes slowly lifted, +and he sullenly nerved himself for the encounter. At +the aspect of those bead-like eyes, resolute although +ill at ease, like a snake striving to charm an adversary, +a tremor of half-recollection shone in her gaze and +the color flooded her face. Mechanically, sweeping +back the straggling lock of hair, she raised herself +without removing her eyes. He who had expected +a tempest of tears shifted uneasily, even irritably, from +that steady stare, until, finding the silence intolerable, +he burst out:</p> +<p>“Well, ma’am, am I a bugbear?”</p> +<p>In her dazed condition she probably did not hear +his words; or, if she did, set no meaning to them, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +Her glance, however, strayed to the narrow window, +and then wandered back to the well-worn interior of +the coach. Suddenly, as the startling realization of +her position came to her, she uttered a loud cry, sprang +toward the door, and, with nervous fingers, strove to +open it. The man’s face became more rubicund as +he placed a detaining hand on her shoulder, and +roughly thrust her toward the seat.</p> +<p>“Make the best of it!” he exclaimed peremptorily. +“You’d better, for I’m not to be trifled with.”</p> +<p>Recoiling from his touch, she held herself aloof +with such aversion, a sneer crossed his face, and he +observed glumly:</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m not a viper! If you’re put out, so am I.”</p> +<p>“Who are you?” she demanded, breathlessly.</p> +<p>“That’s an incriminating question, Ma’am,” he replied. +“In this case, though, the witness has no objection +to answering. I’m your humble servant.”</p> +<p>His forced drollery was more obnoxious than his ill-humor, +and, awakening her impatience, restored in a +measure her courage. He was but a pitiful object, +after all, with his flame-colored visage, and short, +crouching figure; and, as her thoughts passed from the +brutal part he had played on the road to her present +situation, she exclaimed with more anger than apprehension:</p> +<p>“Perhaps you will tell me the meaning of this outrage––your +smothering me––forcing me into this coach––and +driving away––where?”</p> +<p>His face became once more downcast and moody. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +Driven into a corner by her swift words, his glance +met hers fairly; he drummed his fingers together.</p> +<p>“There’s no occasion to show your temper, Miss,” +he said reflectively. “I’m a bit touchy myself to-day; +‘sudden and quick in quarrel.’ You see I know my +Shakespeare, Ma’am. Let us talk about that great poet +and the parts you, as an actress, prefer––”</p> +<p>“Can I get an answer from you?” she cried, subduing +her dread.</p> +<p>“What is it you asked?”</p> +<p>“As if you did not know!” she returned, her lip +trembling with impatience and loathing.</p> +<p>“Yes; I remember.” Sharply. “You asked where +we were driving? Across the country. What is the +meaning of this––outrage, I believe you called it? All +actions spring from two sources––Cupid and cupidity. +The rest of the riddle you’ll have to guess.” Gazing +insolently into her face, with his hands on his knees.</p> +<p>“But you have told me nothing,” she replied, striving +to remain mistress of herself and to hide her apprehension.</p> +<p>“Do you call that nothing? You have the approximate +cause––<i>causa causans</i>. Was it Cupid? No, for +like Bacon, your sex’s ‘fantastical’ charms move me +not.”</p> +<p>This sally put him in better temper with himself. +She was helpless, and he experienced a churlish satisfaction +in her condition.</p> +<p>“What was it, then? Cupidity. Do you know what +poverty is like in this barren region?” he cried harshly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +“The weapons of education only unfit you for the +plow. You stint, pinch, live on nothing!” He +rubbed his dry hands together. “It was crumbs and +scraps under the parsimonious régime; but now the +prodigal has come into his own and believes in honest +wages and a merry life.”</p> +<p>Wonderingly she listened, the scene like a grotesque +dream, with the ever-moving coach, the lonely +road, the dark woods, and––so near, she could almost +place her hand upon him––this man, muttering and +mumbling. He had offered her the key of the mystery, +but she had failed to use it. His ambiguous, loose +talk, only perplexed and alarmed her; the explanation +was none at all.</p> +<p>As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, +weighing doubt and uncertainty, new ideas assailed +him. After all she had spirit, courage! Moreover, +she was an actress, and the patroon was madly in love +with her.</p> +<p>“If we were only leagued together, how we could +strip him!” he thought.</p> +<p>His head dropped contemplatively to his breast, and +for a long interval he remained silent, abstracted, +while the old springless coach, with many a jolt and +jar, covered mile after mile; up the hills, crowned with +bush and timber; across the table land; over the plank +bridges spanning the brooks and rivulets. More reconciled +to his part and her presence, his lips once or +twice parted as if he were about to speak, but closed +again. He even smiled, showing his amber-hued +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +teeth, nodding his head in a friendly fashion, as to say: +“It’ll come out all right, Madam; all right for both of +us!” Which, indeed, was his thought. She believed +him unsettled, bereft of reason, and, although, he was +manifestly growing less hostile, his surveillance became +almost unbearable. At every moment she felt him regarding +her like a lynx, and endeavored therefore to +keep perfectly still. What would her strange warder +do next? It was not an alarming act, however. He +consulted a massive watch, remarking:</p> +<p>“It’s lunch time and over! With your permission, +I’ll take a bite and a drop. Will you join me?”</p> +<p>She turned her head away, and, not disconcerted by +her curt refusal, he drew a wicker box from beneath +a seat and opened it. His reference to a “bite and a +drop” was obviously figurative, especially the “drop,” +which grew to the dimensions of a pint, which he swallowed +quickly. Perhaps the flavor of the wine made +him less attentive to his prisoner, for as he lifted the +receptacle to his lips, she thrust her arms through +the window and a play book dropped from her hand, +a possible clue for any one who might follow the coach. +For some time she had been awaiting this opportunity +and when it came, the carriage was entering a village.</p> +<p>Scroggs finished his cup. “You see, we’re provided +for,” he began. Here the bottle fell from his hand.</p> +<p>“The patroon village!” he exclaimed in consternation. +“I’d forgotten we were so close! And they’re +all gathered in the square, too!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p>He cast a quick glance at her. “You’re all ready to +call for help,” he sneered, “but I’m not ready to part +company yet.”</p> +<p>Hastily drawing up one of the wooden shutters, he +placed himself near the other window, observing fiercely; +“I don’t propose you shall undo what’s being done +for you. Let me hear from you”––jerking his finger +toward the square––“and I’ll not answer for what +I’ll do.” But in spite of his admonition he read such +determination in her eyes, he felt himself baffled.</p> +<p>“You intend to make trouble!” he cried. And putting +his head suddenly through the window, he called +to the driver: “Whip the horses through the market +place!”</p> +<p>As the affrighted animals sprang forward he blocked +the window, placing one hand on her shoulder. He +felt her escape from his grasp, but not daring to leave +his post, he leaned out of the window when they were +opposite the square, and shook his fist at the anti-renters, +exclaiming:</p> +<p>“I’ll arrest every mother’s son of you! I’ll evict +you––jail you for stealing rent!”</p> +<p>Drowned by the answering uproar, “The patroon’s +dog!” “Bullets for deputies!” the emissary of the +land baron continued to threaten the throng with his +fist, until well out of ear-shot, and, thanks to the level +road, beyond reach of their resentment. Not that they +strove to follow him far, for they thought the jackal +had taken leave of his senses. Laughter mingled +with their jeers at the absurd figure he presented, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +fulminating and flying at the same time. But there +was no defiance left in him when they were beyond the +village, and he fell back into his seat, his face now +ash-colored.</p> +<p>“If they’d stopped us my life wouldn’t have been +worth the asking,” he muttered hoarsely. “But I did +it!” Triumphantly gazing at the young girl who, +trembling with excitement, leaned against the side +of the coach. “I see you managed to get down the +shutter. I hope you heard your own voice. I didn’t; +and, what’s more, I’m sure they didn’t!”</p> +<p>With fingers he could hardly control he opened a +second bottle, dispensed with the formality of a glass, +and set the neck to his lips, repeating the operation +until it was empty, when he tossed it out of the window +to be shattered against a rock, after which he sank +again into a semblance of meditation.</p> +<p>Disappointed over her ineffectual efforts, overcome +by the strain, the young girl for the time relaxed all +further attempt. Unseen, unheard, she had stood at +her window! She had tried to open the door, but +it resisted her frantic efforts, and then the din had +died away and left her weak, powerless, hardly conscious +of the hateful voice of her companion from +time to time addressing her.</p> +<p>But fortunately he preferred the gross practice of +draining the cup to the fine art of conversation. Left +to the poor company of her thoughts, she dwelt upon +the miscarriage of her design, and the slender chance +of assistance. They would probably pass through no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +more villages and if they did, he would undoubtedly +find means to prevent her making herself known. +Unless––and a glimmer of hope flickered through her +thoughts!––her warder carried his potations to a point +where vigilance ceased to be a virtue. Inconsiderately +he stopped at the crucial juncture, with all the +signs of contentment and none of drowsiness.</p> +<p>So minutes resolved themselves into hours and the +day wore on. Watching the sun-rays bathe the top +of the forest below them, she noted how fast the silver +disk was descending. The day which had seemed interminable +now appeared but too short, and she would +gladly have recalled those fleeting hours. Ignorant +of the direction in which they had been traveling, she +realized that the driver had been unsparing and the distance +covered not inconsiderable. The mystery of the +assault, the obscurity of the purpose and the vagueness +of their destination were unknown quantities which, +added to the declining of the day and the brewing +terrors of the night, were well calculated to terrify +and crush her.</p> +<p>Despairingly, she observed how the sun dipped, and +ever dipped toward the west, when suddenly a sound +afar rekindled her fainting spirits. Listening more +attentively, she was assured imagination had not deceived +her; it was the faint patter of a horse’s hoofs. +Nearer it drew; quicker beat her pulses. Moreover, it +was the rat-a-tat of galloping. Some one was pursuing +the coach on horseback. Impatient to glance +behind, she only refrained for prudential reasons.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span></div> +<p>Immersed in his own grape-vine castle her jailer +was unmindful of the approaching rider, and she +turned her face from him that he might not read her +exultation. Closer resounded the beating hoofs, but +her impatience outstripped the pursuer, and she was almost +impelled to rush to the window.</p> +<p>Who was the horseman? Was it Barnes? Saint-Prosper? +The latter’s name had quickly suggested +itself to her.</p> +<p>Although the rider, whoever he might be, continued +to gain ground, to her companion, the approaching +clatter was inseparable from the noise of +the vehicle, and it was not until the horseman was +nearly abreast, and the cadence of the galloping resolved +itself into clangor, that the dreamer awoke with +an imprecation. As he sprang to his feet, thus rudely +disturbed, a figure on horseback dashed by and a stern +voice called to the driver:</p> +<p>“Stop the coach!”</p> +<p>Probably the command was given over the persuasive +point of a weapon, for the animals were drawn +up with a quick jerk and came to a standstill in the +middle of the road. Menacing and abusive, as the +vehicle stopped, the warder’s hand sought one of his +pockets, when the young girl impetuously caught his +arm, clinging to it tenaciously.</p> +<p>“Quick!––Mr. Saint-Prosper!” she cried, recognizing, +as she thought, the voice of the soldier.</p> +<p>“You wild-cat!” her jailer exclaimed, struggling to +throw her off.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span></div> +<p>Not succeeding, he raised his free arm in a flurry +of invective.</p> +<p>“Curse you, will you let go!”</p> +<p>“Quick! Quick!” she called out, holding him more +tightly.</p> +<p>A flood of Billingsgate flowed from his lips. “Let +go, or––”</p> +<p>But before he could in his blind passion strike her +or otherwise vent his rage, a revolver was clapped to +his face through the window, and, with a look of surprise +and terror, his valor oozing from him, he +crouched back on the cushions. At the same time +the carriage door was thrown open, and Edward Mauville, +the patroon, stood in the entrance!</p> +<p>Only an instant his eyes swept her, observing the +flushed cheeks and disordered attire, leading her wonder +at his unexpected appearance, and––to his satisfaction!––her +relief as well; only an instant, during +which the warder stared at him open-mouthed––and +then his glance rested on the now thoroughly sober +limb of the law.</p> +<p>“Get out!” he said, briefly and harshly.</p> +<p>“But,” began the other with a sickly grin, intended +to be ingratiating, “I don’t understand––this unexpected +manner––this forcible departure from––”</p> +<p>Coolly raising his weapon, the patroon deliberately +covered the hapless jailer, who unceremoniously +scrambled out of the door. The land baron laughed, +replaced his revolver and, turning to the young girl, +removed his hat.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span></div> +<p>“It was fortunate, Miss Carew, I happened along,” +he said gravely. “With your permission, I will get +in. You can tell me what has happened as we drive +along. The manor house, my temporary home, is not +far from here. If I can be of any service, command +me!”</p> +<p>The jackal saw the patroon spring into the carriage, +having fastened his horse behind, and drive off. Until +the vehicle had disappeared, he stood motionless in +the road, but when it had passed from sight, he seated +himself on a stone.</p> +<p>“That comes from mixing the breed!” he muttered. +“Dramatic effect, <i>à la France</i>!” He wiped the perspiration +from his brow. “Well, I’m three miles from +my humble habitation, but I’d rather walk than ride––under +some circumstances!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_COMING_OF_LITTLE_THUNDER' id='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_COMING_OF_LITTLE_THUNDER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER</h3> +</div> +<p>The afternoon was waning; against the golden western +sky the old manor house loomed in solemn majesty, +the fields and forests emphasizing its isolation in the +darkening hour of sunset, as a coach, with jaded +horses, passed through the avenue of trees and approached +the broad portico. A great string of trailing +vine had been torn from the walls by the wind and +now waved mournfully to and fro with no hand to adjust +it. In the rear was a huge-timbered barn, the +door of which was unfastened, swinging on its rusty +hinges with a creaking and moaning sound.</p> +<p>As gaily as in the days when the periwigged coachman +had driven the elaborate equipage of the early +patroons through the wrought-iron gate this modern +descendant entered the historic portals, not to be met, +however, by servitors in knee breeches at the front +door, but by the solitary care-taker who appeared on +the portico in considerable disorder and evident state +of excitement, accompanied by the shaggy dog, +Oloffe.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span></div> +<p>“The deputies shot two of the tenants to-day,” hurriedly +exclaimed the guardian of the place, without +noticing Mauville’s companion. “The farmers fired +upon them; they replied, and one of the tenants is +dead.”</p> +<p>“A good lesson for them, since they were the aggressors,” +cried the heir, as he sprang from the coach. +“But you have startled the lady.”</p> +<p>An exclamation from the vehicle in an unmistakably +feminine voice caused the “<i>wacht-meester</i>” now to +observe the occupant for the first time and the servant +threw up his hands in consternation. Here was a +master who drank all night, shot his tenants by proxy, +visited strollers, and now brought one of them to the +<i>steyn</i>. That the strange lady was a player, Oly-koeks +immediately made up his mind, and he viewed her with +mingled aversion and fear, as the early settlers regarded +sorcerers and witches. She was very beautiful, +he observed in that quick glance, but therefore the more +dangerous; she appeared distressed, but he attributed +her apparent grief to artfulness. He at once saw +a new source of trouble in her presence; as though +the threads were not already sufficiently entangled, +without the introduction of a woman––and she a public +performer!––into the complicated mesh!</p> +<p>“Fasten the iron shutters of the house,” briefly commanded +Mauville, breaking in upon the servant’s painful +reverie. “Then help this man change the horses +and put in the grays.”</p> +<p>Oly-koeks, with a final deprecatory glance at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +coach, expressive of his estimate of his master’s light +conduct and his apprehension of the outcome, disappeared +to obey this order.</p> +<p>“May I assist you, Miss Carew?” said the land baron +deferentially, offering his arm to the young girl, whose +pale but observant face disclosed new demur and inquiry.</p> +<p>“But you said we would go right on?” she returned, +drawing back with implied dissent.</p> +<p>“When the horses are changed! If you will step +out, the carriage will be driven to the barn.”</p> +<p>Reluctantly she obeyed, and as she did so, the patroon +and the coachman exchanged pithy glances.</p> +<p>“Look sharp!” commanded the master, sternly. +“Oh, he won’t run away,” added Mauville quickly, in +answer to her look of surprise. “He knows I could +find him, and”––fingering his revolver––“will not +disoblige me. Later we’ll hear the rogue’s story.”</p> +<p>The man’s averted countenance smothered a clandestine +smile, as he touched the horses with his whip and +turned them toward the barn, leaving the patroon +and his companion alone on the broad portico. Sweeping +from a distant grove of slender poplars and snowy +birch a breeze bore down upon them, suddenly bleak +and frosty, and she shivered in the nipping air.</p> +<p>“You are chilled!” he cried. “If you would but +go into the house while we are waiting! Indeed, if +you do not, I shall wonder how I have offended you! +It will be something to remember”––half lightly, half +seriously––“that you have crossed my threshold!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span></div> +<p>He stood at the door, with such an undissembled +smile, his accents so regretful, that after a moment’s +hesitation, Constance entered, followed by the patroon. +Sweeping aside the heavy draperies from the window, +he permitted the golden shafts of the ebbing day to +enter the hall, gleaming on the polished floors, the +wainscoting and the furniture, faintly illuminating +the faded pictures and weirdly revealing the turnings +of the massive stairway. No wonder a half-shudder +of apprehension seized the young actress in spite of +her self-reliance and courage, as she entered the solemn +and mournful place, where past grandeur offered nothing +save morbid memories and where the frailty of +existence was significantly written! After that Indian +summer day the sun was sinking, angry and fiery, +as though presaging a speedy reform in the vagaries +of the season and an immediate return to the legitimate +surroundings of October.</p> +<p>Involuntarily the girl moved to the window, where +the light rested on her brown tresses, and as Mauville +watched that radiance, shifting and changing, her hair +alight with mystic color, the passion that had prompted +him to this end was stirred anew, dissipating any +intrusive doubts. The veering and flickering sheen +seemed but a web of entangling irradiation. A span +of silence became an interminable period to her, with +no sight of fresh horses nor sign of preparation for the +home journey.</p> +<p>“What takes him so long?” she said, finally, with +impatience. “It is getting so late!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span></div> +<p>“It is late,” he answered. “Almost too late to go +on! You are weary and worn. Why not rest here +to-night?”</p> +<p>“Rest here?” she repeated, with a start of surprise.</p> +<p>“You are not fit to drive farther. To-morrow we +can return.”</p> +<p>“To-morrow!” she cried. “But––what do you +mean?”</p> +<p>“That I must insist upon your sparing yourself!” +he said, firmly, although a red spot flushed his cheek.</p> +<p>“No; no! We must leave at once!” she answered.</p> +<p>He smiled reassuringly. “Why will you not have +confidence in me?” he asked. “You have not the +strength to travel all night––over a rough road––after +such a trying day. For your own sake, I beg you to +give up the idea. Here you are perfectly safe and +may rest undisturbed.”</p> +<p>“Please call the horses at once!”</p> +<p>An impatient expression furrowed his brow. He +had relied on easily prevailing upon her through +her gratitude; continuing in his disinterested rôle for +yet some time; resuming the journey on the morrow, +carrying her farther away under pretext of mistaking +the road, until––Here his plans had faded into a +vague perspective, dominated by unreasoning self-confidence +and egotism.</p> +<p>But her words threatened a rupture at the outset +that would seriously alter the status of the adventure.</p> +<p>“It is a mistake to go on to-night,” he said, with a +dissenting gesture. “However, if you are +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +determined––” And Mauville stepped to the window. “Why, +the carriage is not there!” he exclaimed, looking out.</p> +<p>“Not there!” she repeated, incredulously. “You +told them to change the horses. Why––”</p> +<p>“I don’t understand,” returned the land baron, with +an effort to make his voice surprised and concerned. +“He may––Hello-a, there! You!––Oly-koeks!” +he called out, interrupting his own explanation.</p> +<p>Not Oly-koeks, but the driver’s face, appeared from +behind the barn door, and, gazing through the window, +the young girl, with a start, suddenly realized that +she had seen him not for the first time that day––but +where?––when? Through the growing perplexity +of her thoughts she heard the voice of her companion</p> +<p>“Why don’t you hitch up the grays?”</p> +<p>“There are no horses in the barn,” came the answer.</p> +<p>“Strange, the care-taker did not tell me they had +been taken away!” commented the other, hastily, stepping +from the window as the driver vanished once +more into the barn. “I am sorry, but there seems no +alternative but to wait––at least, until I can send for +others.”</p> +<p>She continued to gaze toward the door through +which the man had disappeared. She could place him +now, although his livery had been discarded for +shabby clothes; she recalled him distinctly in spite of +this changed appearance.</p> +<p>“Why not make the best of it?” said Mauville, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span> +softly, but with glance sparkling in spite of himself. +“After all, are you not giving yourself needless apprehensions? +You are at home here. Anything you +wish shall be yours. Consider yourself mistress; me, +one of your servants!”</p> +<p>Almost imperceptibly his manner had changed. Instinctive +misgivings which had assailed her in the coach +with him now resolved themselves into assured fears. +Something she could not explain had aroused her +suspicions before they reached the manor, but his +words had glossed these inward qualms, and a feeling +of obligation suggested trust, not shrinking; but, with +his last words, a full light illumined her faculties; an +association of ideas revealed his intent and performance.</p> +<p>“It was you, then,” she said, slowly, studying him +with steady, penetrating glance.</p> +<p>“You!” she repeated, with such contempt that he +was momentarily disconcerted. “The man in the +carriage––he was hired by you. The driver––his +face is familiar. I remember now where I saw him––in +the Shadengo Valley. He is your coachman. Your +rescue was planned to deceive me. It deceived even +your man. He had not expected that. Your reassuring +me was false; the plan to change horses a trick +to get me here––”</p> +<p>“If you would but listen––”</p> +<p>“When”––her eyes ablaze––“will this farce end?”</p> +<p>Her words took him unawares. Not that he dreaded +the betrayal of his actual purpose. On the contrary, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +his reckless temper, chafing under her unexpected obduracy, +now welcomed the opportunity of discarding +the disinterested and chivalrous part he had assumed.</p> +<p>“When it ends in a honeymoon, <i>ma belle</i> Constance!” +he said, swiftly.</p> +<p>His sudden words, removing all doubts as to his +purpose, awoke such repugnance in her that for a moment +aversion was paramount to every other feeling. +Again she looked without, but only the solitude of the +fields and forests met her glance.</p> +<p>The remoteness of the situation gave the very boldness +of his plan feasibility. Was he not his own magistrate +in his own province? Why, then, he had +thought, waste the golden moments? He had but one +heed now; a study of physical beauty, against a crimson +background.</p> +<p>“To think of such loveliness lost in the wilderness!” +he said, softly. “The gates of art should all open to +you. Why should you play to rustic bumpkins, when +the world of fashion would gladly receive you? I am +a poor prophet if you would not be a success in town. +It is not always easy to get a hearing, to procure an +audience, but means could be found. Soon your name +would be on every one’s lips. Your art is fresh. The +jaded world likes freshness. The cynical town runs +to artless art as an antidote to its own poison. Most +of the players are wrinkled and worn. A young face +will seem like a new-grown white rose.”</p> +<p>She did not answer; unresponsive as a statue, she +did not move. The sun shot beneath an obstructing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span> +branch, and long, searching shafts found access to +the room. Mauville moved forward impetuously, until +he stood on the verge of the sunlight on the satinwood +floor.</p> +<p>“May I not devote myself to this cause, Constance?” +he continued. “You are naturally resentful toward me +now. But can I not show you that I have your welfare +at heart? If you were as ambitious as you are attractive, +what might you not do? Art is long; our days +are short; youth flies like a summer day.”</p> +<p>His glance sought hers questioningly; still no reply; +only a wave of blood surged over her neck and brow, +while her eyes fell. Then the glow receded, leaving +her white as a snow image.</p> +<p>“Come,” he urged. “May I not find for you those +opportunities?”</p> +<p>He put out his eager hand as if to touch her. Then +suddenly the figure in the window came to life and +shrank back, with widely opened eyes fixed upon his +face. His gaze could not withstand hers, man of the +world though he was, and his free manner was replaced +by something resembling momentary embarrassment. +Conscious of this new and annoying feeling, his egotism +rose in arms, as if protesting against the novel +sensation, and his next words were correspondingly +violent.</p> +<p>“Put off your stage manners!” he exclaimed. “You +are here at my pleasure. It was no whim, my carrying +you off. After you left I went to the manor, where +I tried to forget you. But nights of revelry––why +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span> +should I not confess it?––could not efface your memory.” +His voice unconsciously sank to unreserved +candor. “Your presence filled these halls. I could +no longer say: Why should I trouble myself about +one who has no thought for me?”</p> +<p>Breathing hard, he paused, gazing beyond her, as +though renewing the memories of that period.</p> +<p>“Learning you were in the neighboring town,” he +continued, “I went there, with no further purpose than +to see you. On the journey perhaps I indulged in +foolish fancies. How would you receive me? Would +you be pleased; annoyed? So I tempted my fancy +with air-castles like the most unsophisticated lover. +But you had no word of welcome; scarcely listened to +me, and hurried away! I could not win you as I desired; +the next best way was this.”</p> +<p>He concluded with an impassioned gesture, his gaze +eagerly seeking the first sign of lenity or favor on her +part, but his confession seemed futile. Her eyes, suggestive +of tender possibilities, expressed now but coldness +and obduracy. In a revulsion of feeling he forgot +the distance separating the buskined from the fashionable +world; the tragic scatterlings from the conventions +of Vanity Fair! He forgot all save that she was to +him now the one unparagoned entirety, overriding +other memories.</p> +<p>“Will not a life of devotion atone for this day, Constance?” +he cried. “Do you know how far-reaching +are these lands? All the afternoon you drove through +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span> +them, and they extend as wide in the other direction. +These––my name––are yours!”</p> +<p>A shade of color swept over her brow.</p> +<p>“Answer me,” he urged.</p> +<p>“Drive back and I will answer you.”</p> +<p>“Drive back and you will laugh at me,” he retorted, +moodily. “You would make a woman’s bargain with +me.”</p> +<p>“Is yours a man’s with me?” Contemptuously.</p> +<p>“What more can I do?”</p> +<p>“Undo what you have done. Take me back!”</p> +<p>“I would cut a nice figure doing that! No; you +shall stay here.”</p> +<p>He spoke angrily; her disdain at his proposal not +only injured his pride but awoke his animosity. On +the other hand, his words demonstrated she had not +improved her own position. If he meant to keep her +there he could do so, and opposition made him only +more obstinate, more determined to press his advantage. +Had she been more politic––Juliana off the +stage as well as on––she, whose artifice was glossed +by artlessness––</p> +<p>Her lashes drooped; her attitude became less aggressive; +her eyes, from beneath their dark curtains, +rested on him for a moment. What it was in that +glance so effective is not susceptible to analysis. Was +it the appeal that awakened the quixotic sense of +honor; the helplessness arousing compassion; the irresistible +quality of a brimming eye so fatal to masculine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +calculation and positiveness? Whatever it was, +it dispelled the contraction on the land baron’s face, +and––despite his threats, vows!––he was swayed by +a look.</p> +<p>“Forgive me,” he said, tenderly.</p> +<p>“You will drive back?”</p> +<p>“Yes; I will win you in your own way, fairly and +honestly! I will take you back, though the whole +country laughs at me. Win or lose, back we go, for––I +love you!” And impetuously he threw his arm +around her waist.</p> +<p>Simulation could not stand the test; it was no longer +acting, but reality; she had set herself to a rôle she +could not perform. Hating him for that free touch, +she forcibly extricated herself with an exclamation +and an expression of countenance there was no mistaking. +From Mauville’s face the glad light died; he +regarded her once more cruelly, vindictively.</p> +<p>“You dropped the mask too soon,” he said, coldly. +“I was not prepared for rehearsal, although you were +perfect. You are even a better actress than I thought +you, than which”––mockingly––“I can pay you no +better compliment.”</p> +<p>She looked at him with such scorn he laughed, +though his eyes flashed.</p> +<p>“Bravo!” he exclaimed.</p> +<p>While thus confronting each other a footfall sounded +without, the door burst open, and the driver of the +coach, with features drawn by fear, unceremoniously +entered the room. The patroon turned on him enraged, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +but the latter without noticing his master’s displeasure, +exclaimed hurriedly:</p> +<p>“The anti-renters are coming!”</p> +<p>The actress uttered a slight cry and stepped toward +the window, when she was drawn back by an irresistible +force.</p> +<p>“Pardon me,” said a hard voice, from which all +passing compunction had vanished. “Be kind enough +to come with me.”</p> +<p>“I will follow you, but––” Her face expressed the +rest.</p> +<p>“This way then!”</p> +<p>He released her and together they mounted the +stairway. For a long time a gentle footfall had not +passed those various landings; not since the ladies in +hoops, with powdered hair, had ascended or descended, +with attendant cavaliers, bewigged, beruffled, bedizened. +The land baron conducted his companion +to a distant room up stairs, the door of which he +threw open.</p> +<p>“Go in there,” he said curtly.</p> +<p>She hesitated on the threshold. So remote was it +from the main part of the great manor, the apartment +had all the requirements of a prison.</p> +<p>“You needn’t fear,” he continued, reading her +thoughts. “I’m not going to be separated from you––yet! +But we can see what is going on here.”</p> +<p>Again she mutely obeyed him, and entered the room. +It was a commodious apartment, where an excellent +view was offered of the surrounding country on three +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span> +sides. But looking from the window to discern his +assailants, Mauville could see nothing save the fields +and openings, fringed by the dark groves. The out-houses +and barns were but dimly outlined, while scattered +trees here and there dotted the open spaces +with small, dark patches. A single streak of red yet +lingered in the west. A tiny spot, moving through +the obscurity, proved to be a cow, peacefully wandering +over the dewy grass. The whirring sound of a +diving night-hawk gave evidence that a thing of life +was inspecting the scene from a higher point of vantage.</p> +<p>From that narrow, dark crimson ribbon, left behind +by the flaunting sun, a faint reflection entered the great +open windows of the chamber and revealed Mauville +gazing without, pistol in hand; Constance leaning +against the curtains and the driver of the coach standing +in the center of the room, quaking inwardly and +shaking outwardly. This last-named had found an +old blunderbuss somewhere, useful once undoubtedly, +but of questionable service now.</p> +<p>Meanwhile Oly-koeks had not returned. Having +faithfully closed and locked all the iron shutters, he +had crept out of a cellar window and voluntarily resigned +as care-taker of the manor, with its burden of +dangers and vexations. With characteristic prudence, +he had timed the period of his departure with the beginning +of the end in the fortunes of the old patroon +principality. The storm-cloud, gathering during the +life of Mauville’s predecessor, was now ready to burst, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +the impending catastrophe hastened by the heir’s want +of discretion and his failure to adjust difficulties amicably. +That small shadow, followed by a smaller +shadow, passing through the field, were none other +than Oly-koeks and Oloffe, who grew more and more +imperceptible until they were finally swallowed up +and seemingly lost forever in the darkness of the fringe +of the forest.</p> +<p>A branch of a tree grated against the window as +Mauville looked out over the peaceful vale to the ribbon +of red that was being slowly withdrawn as by some +mysterious hand. Gradually this adornment, growing +shorter and shorter, was wound up while the shadows +of the out-houses became deeper and the meadow lands +appeared to recede in the distance. As he scanned +the surrounding garden, the land baron’s eye fell upon +an indistinct figure stealing slowly across the sward in +the partial darkness. This object was immediately +followed by another and yet another. To the observer’s +surprise they wore the headgear of Indians.</p> +<p>Suddenly the patroon heard the note of the whippoorwill, +the nocturnal songster that mourns unseen. +It was succeeded by the sharp tones of a saw-whet +and the distinct mew of a cat-bird. A wild pigeon +began to coo softly in another direction and was answered +by a thrush. The listener vaguely realized +that all this unexpected melody came from the Indians, +who had by this time surrounded the house and who +took this method of communicating with one another.</p> +<p>An interval of portentous silence was followed by a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +loud knocking at the front door, which din reverberated +through the hall, echoing and re-echoing the vigorous +summons. Mauville at this leaned from the +window and as he did so, there arose a hooting from +the sward as though bedlam had broken loose. Maintaining +his post, the heir called out:</p> +<p>“What do you want, men?”</p> +<p>At these words the demonstration became more +turbulent, and, amid the threatening hubbub, voices +arose, showing too well the purpose of the gathering. +Aroused to a fever of excitement by the shooting of +the tenants, they were no longer skulking, stealthy +Indians, but a riotous assemblage of anti-renters, expressing +their determination in an ominous chorus:</p> +<p>“Hang the land baron!”</p> +<p>In the midst of this far from reassuring uproar a +voice arose like a trumpet:</p> +<p>“We are the messengers of the Lord, made strong by +His wrath!”</p> +<p>“You are the messenger of the devil, Little Thunder,” +Mauville shouted derisively.</p> +<p>A crack of a rifle admonished the land baron that the +jest might have cost him dear.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_ATTACK_ON_THE_MANOR' id='CHAPTER_XIV_THE_ATTACK_ON_THE_MANOR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR</h3> +</div> +<p>After this brief hostile outbreak in the garden below +the right wing, Mauville prepared to make as effective +defense as lay in his power and looked around for his +aid, the driver of the coach. But that quaking individual +had taken advantage of the excitement to disappear. +Upon hearing the threats, followed by the +singing of bullets, and doubting not the same treatment +accorded the master would be meted out to the +servant, the coachman’s fealty so oozed from him +that he dropped his blunderbuss, groping his way +through the long halls to the cellar, where he +concealed himself in an out-of-the-way corner beneath +a heap of potato sacks. In that vast subterranean place +he congratulated himself he would escape with a whole +skin, his only regret being certain unpaid wages which +he considered as good as lost, together with the master +who owed them.</p> +<p>Mauville, however, would have little regretted the +disappearance of this poor-spirited aid, on the theory +a craven follower is worse than none at all, had not this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +discovery been followed quickly by the realization that +the young girl, too, had availed herself of the opportunity +while he was at the window and vanished.</p> +<p>“Why, the slippery jade’s gone!” he exclaimed, staring +around the room, confounded for the moment. +Then recovering himself, he hurriedly left the chamber, +more apprehensive lest she should get out of the +manor than that the tenants should get in.</p> +<p>“She can’t be far off,” he thought, pausing doubtfully +in the hall.</p> +<p>For the moment he almost forgot the anti-renters +and determined to find her at all hazard. He hastily +traversed the upper hall, but was rewarded with no +sight of her. He gazed down the stairs eagerly, with +no better result; the front door was still closed, as he +had left it. Evidently she had fled toward the rear +of the house and made good her escape from one of +the back or side entrances.</p> +<p>“Yes; she’s gone,” he repeated. “What a fool I was +to have trusted her to herself for a moment!”</p> +<p>A new misgiving arose, and he started. What if +she had succeeded in leaving the manor? He knew +and distrusted Little Thunder and his cohorts. What +respect would they have for her? For all he had done, +it was, nevertheless, intolerable to think she might be +in possible danger––from others save himself! A wave +of compunction swept over him. After all, he loved +her, and, loving her, could not bear to think of any +calamity befalling her. He hated her for tricking him; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span> +feared for her, for the pass to which he had brought +her; cared for her beyond the point his liking had +reached for any other woman. A mirthless laugh +escaped him as he stood at the stairway looking down +the empty hall.</p> +<p>“Surely I’ve gone daft over the stroller!” he thought, +as his own position recurred to him in all its seriousness. +“Well, what’s done is done! Let them come!” +His eyes gleamed.</p> +<p>With no definite purpose of searching further, he +nevertheless walked mechanically down the corridor +toward the other side of the manor and suddenly, to +his surprise and satisfaction, discerned Constance in +a blind passage, where she had inadvertently fled.</p> +<p>At the end of this narrow hall a window looked almost +directly out upon the circular, brick dove-cote, +now an indistinct outline, and on both sides were +doors, one of which she was vainly endeavoring to +open when he approached. Immediately she desisted +in her efforts; flushed and panting, she stood in the +dim light of the passage. Quiet, unbroken save +for the cooing in the cote, had succeeded the first noisy +demonstration; the anti-renters were evidently arranging +their forces to prevent the land baron’s escape or +planning an assault on the manor.</p> +<p>In his momentary satisfaction at finding her, Mauville +overlooked the near prospect of a more lengthy, +if not final, separation, and surveyed the young girl +with a sudden, swift joyousness, but the fear and distrust +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span> +written on her features dissipated his concern +for her; his best impulses were smothered by harsher +feelings.</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, the door is locked,” he said, ironically. +“Meanwhile, as this spot has no strategic advantages, +suppose we change our base of defense?”</p> +<p>Realizing how futile would be resistance, she accompanied +him once more to the chamber in the wing, +where he had determined to make his last defense. +After closing and locking the door, he lighted one of +many candles on the mantel. The uncertain glow +from the great candelabra, covered with dust, like the +white marble itself, and evidently placed there many +years before, revealed faded decorations and a ceiling, +water-stained as from a defective roof. Between the +windows, with flowery gilt details, an ancient mirror +extended from floor to ceiling. A musty smell pervaded +the apartment, for Mynheer, the Patroon, had +lived so closely to himself that he had shut out both +air and sunlight from his rooms.</p> +<p>The flickering glare fell upon the young actress +standing, hand upon her heart, listening with bated +breath, and Mauville, with ominous expression, brooding +over that chance which sent the lease-holders to +the manor on that night of nights. It was intolerable +that no sooner had she crossed his threshold than +they should appear, ripe for any mischief, not only +seeking his life, but wresting happiness from his very +lips. For, of the outcome he could have little doubt, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +although determined to sell dearly that which they +sought.</p> +<p>The violent crash of a heavy body at the front of +the house and a tumult of voices on the porch, succeeded +by a din in the hall, announced that the first barrier +had been overcome and the anti-renters were in +possession of the lower floor of the manor. Mauville +had started toward the door, when the anticipation in +the young girl’s eyes held him to the spot. Inaccessible, +she was the more desired; her reserve was fuel +to his flame, and, at that moment, while his life hung +in the balance, he forgot the rebuff he had received and +how she had nearly played upon him.</p> +<p>Words fell from his lips, unpremeditated, eloquent, +voicing those desires which had grown in the solitude +of the manor. Passionately he addressed her, knowing +the climax to his difficulties was at hand. Once near +her, he could not be at peace without her, he vowed, +and this outcome had been inevitable. All this he uttered +impetuously, at times incoherently, but as he concluded, +she only clasped her hands helplessly, solely +conscious of the uproar below which spread from the +main hall to the adjoining rooms.</p> +<p>“They are coming––they are coming!” she said, and +Mauville stopped short.</p> +<p>But while anger and resentment were at strife +within him, some one tried the door of the chamber +and finding it locked, set up a shout. Immediately +the prowlers in the wings, the searchers in the kitchen +and all the stragglers below congregated in the main +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +hall; footsteps were heard ascending rapidly, pausing +in doubt at the head of the stairway, not knowing +whether to turn to the right or to the left.</p> +<p>“Here they are!” called out the man at the door.</p> +<p>“You meddlesome fool!” exclaimed Mauville, lifting +a revolver and discharging it in the direction of +the voice. Evidently the bullet, passing through the +panel of the door, found its mark, for the report was +followed by a cry of pain.</p> +<p>This plaint was answered from the distance and +soon a number of anti-renters hastened to the spot. +Mauville, in vicious humor, moved toward the threshold. +One of the panels was already broken and an +arm thrust into the opening. The land baron bent +forward and coolly clapped his weapon to the member, +the loud discharge being succeeded by a howl from the +wounded lease-holder. Mauville again raised his +weapon when an exclamation from the actress caused +him to turn quickly, in time to see a figure spring unexpectedly +into the room from the balcony. The land +baron stood in amazement, eying the intruder who +had appeared so suddenly from an unguarded quarter, +but before he could recover his self-possession, his +hand was struck heavily and the revolver fell with a +clatter to the floor.</p> +<p>His assailant quickly grasped the weapon, presenting +it to the breast of the surprised land-owner, who +looked, not into the face of an unknown anti-renter, +but into the stern, familiar countenance of Saint-Prosper.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_A_HASTY_EXIT' id='CHAPTER_XV_A_HASTY_EXIT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>A HASTY EXIT</h3> +</div> +<p>The afternoon following the soldier’s departure +from the patroon village went by all too slowly, his +jaded horse’s feet as heavy as the leaden moments. +That he had not long since overtaken the coach was +inexplicable, unless Susan had been a most tardy messenger. +True, at the fork of the road he had been misled, +but should before this have regained what he had +lost, unless he was once more on the wrong thoroughfare. +As night fell, the vastness of the new world +impressed the soldier as never before; not a creature +had he met since leaving the patroon village; she whom +he sought might have been swallowed up in the immensity +of the wilderness. For the first time his +task seemed as if it might be to no purpose; his confidence +of the morning had gradually been replaced by +consuming anxiety. He reproached himself that he +had not pressed his inquiries further at the patroon +village, but realized it was now too late for regrets; +go on he must and should.</p> +<p>Along the darkening road horse and rider continued +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +their way. Only at times the young man pulled at +the reins sharply, as the animal stumbled from sheer +weariness. With one hand he stroked encouragingly +the foam-flecked arch of the horse’s neck; the other, +holding the reins, was clenched like a steel glove. +Leaving the brow of a hill, the horseman expectantly +fixed his gaze ahead, when suddenly on his right, a +side thoroughfare lay before him. As he drew rein +indecisively at the turn, peering before him through +the gathering darkness, a voice from the trees called +out unexpectedly:</p> +<p>“Hitch up in here!”</p> +<p>At this peremptory summons the soldier gazed +quickly in the direction of the speaker. Through the +grove, where the trees were so slender and sparsely +planted the eye could penetrate the thicket, he saw a +band of horsemen dismounting and tying their animals. +There was something unreal, grotesque even, +in their appearance, but it was not until one of their +number stepped from the shadow of the trees +into the clearer light of the road that he discerned +their head-dress and garb to be that of Indians. +Recalling all he had heard of the masquerading, marauding +excursions of the anti-renters, the soldier at +once concluded he had encountered a party of them, +bent upon some nefarious expedition. That he was +taken for one of their number seemed equally evident.</p> +<p>“Come!” called out the voice again, impatiently. +“The patroon is at the manor with his city trollop. It’s +time we were moving.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></div> +<p>An exclamation fell from the soldier’s lips. The +patroon!––his ill-disguised admiration for the actress!––his +abrupt reappearance the night of the temperance +drama! Any uncertainty Saint-Prosper might have +felt regarding the identity of him he sought, or the +reason for that day’s work, now became compelling +certitude. But for the tenants, he might have ridden +by the old patroon house. As it was, congratulating +himself upon this accidental meeting rather than his +own shrewdness, he quickly dismounted. A moment’s +thought, and he followed the lease-holders.</p> +<p>In the attack on the manor, his purpose, apart +from theirs, led him to anticipate the general +movement of the anti-renters in front of the house +and to make his way alone, aided by fortuitous circumstances, +to the room where the land baron had taken +refuge. As he sprang into this chamber the young +girl’s exclamation of fear was but the prelude to an +expression of gladness, while Mauville’s consternation +when he found himself disarmed and powerless, +was as great as his surprise. For a moment, therefore, +in his bearing bravado was tempered with hesitancy.</p> +<p>“You here?” stammered the land baron, as he involuntarily +recoiled from his own weapon.</p> +<p>The soldier contemptuously thrust the revolver into +his pocket. “As you see,” he said coldly, “and in a +moment, they”––indicating the door––“will be here!”</p> +<p>“You think to turn me over to them!” exclaimed the +other violently. “But you do not know me! This is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +no quarrel of yours. Give me my weapon, and let me +fight it out with them!”</p> +<p>The soldier’s glance rested for a moment on the +young girl and his face grew stern and menacing.</p> +<p>“By heaven, I am half-minded to take you at your +word! But you shall have one chance––a slender one! +There is the window; it opens on the portico!”</p> +<p>“And if I refuse?”</p> +<p>“They have brought a rope with them. Go, or +hang!”</p> +<p>The heir hesitated, but as he pondered, the anti-renters +were effectually shattering the heavy door, +regaling themselves with threats taught them by the +politicians who had advocated their cause on the +stump, preached it in the legislature, or grown eloquent +over it in the constitutional assembly.</p> +<p>“The serfs are here! The drawers of water and +hewers of wood have arisen! Hang the land baron! +Hang the feudal lord!”</p> +<p>A braver man than Mauville might have been cowed +by that chorus. But after pausing irresolutely, weighing +the chances of life and death, gazing jealously +upon the face of the apprehensive girl, and venomously +at the intruder, the heir finally made a virtue of +necessity and strode to the window. With conflicting +emotions struggling in his mind––fury toward the +lease-holders, hatred for the impassive mediator––he +yet regained, in a measure, an outwardly calm bearing.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-180.jpg' alt='' title='' width='365' height='541' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span></div> +<p>“It’s a poor alternative,” he said, shortly, flashing a +last glance at the actress. “But it’s the best that offers!”</p> +<p>So saying, he sprang upon the balcony––none too +soon, for a moment later the door burst open and an +incongruous element rushed into the room. Many +were attired in outlandish head-dresses, embroidered +moccasins and fringed jackets, their faces painted in +various hues, but others, of a bolder spirit, had disdained +all subterfuge of disguise. Not until then did +the soldier discover that he had overlooked the possible +unpleasantness of remaining in the land baron’s stead, +for the anti-renters promptly threw themselves upon +him, regardless of his companion. The first to grapple +with him was a herculean, thick-ribbed man, of extraordinary +stature, taller than the soldier, if not so +well-knit; a Goliath, indeed, as Scroggs had deemed +him, with arms long as windmills.</p> +<p>“Stand back, lads,” he roared, “and let me throw +him!” And Dick, the tollman, rushed at Saint-Prosper +with furious attack; soon they were chest to chest, +each with his chin on his opponent’s right shoulder, +and each grasping the other around the body with +joined hands.</p> +<p>Dick’s muscles grew taut, like mighty whip-cords; +his chest expanded with power; he girded his loins for +a great effort, and it seemed as if he would make +good his boast. Held in the grasp of those arms, +tight as iron bands, the soldier staggered. Once more +the other heaved and again Saint-Prosper nearly fell, +his superior agility alone saving him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></div> +<p>Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the soldier managed +to face to the right, twisting so as to place his +left hip against his adversary––his only chance; a +trick of wrestling unknown to his herculean, but +clumsy opponent. Gathering all his strength in a last +determined effort, he stooped forward suddenly and +lifted in his turn. One portentous moment––a moment +of doubt and suspense––and the proud representative +of the barn-burners was hurled over the +shoulder of the soldier, landing with a crash on the +floor where he lay, dazed and immovable.</p> +<p>Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with +labored effort, Saint-Prosper fell back against the wall. +The anti-renters quickly recovering from their surprise, +gave him no time to regain his strength, and +the contest promised a speedy and disastrous conclusion +for the soldier, when suddenly a white figure +flashed before him, confronting the tenants with pale +face and shining eyes. A slender obstacle; only a +girlish form, yet the fearlessness of her manner, the +eloquence of her glance––for her lips were silent!––kept +them back for the instant.</p> +<p>But fiercer passions were at work among them, the +desire for retaliation and bitter hatred of the patroon, +which speedily dissipated any feeling of compunction +or any tendency to waver,</p> +<p>“Kill him before his lady love!” cried a piercing +voice from behind. “Did they not murder my husband +before me? Kill him, if you are men!”</p> +<p>And pressing irresistibly to the front appeared the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +woman whose husband had been shot by the deputies. +Her features, once soft and matronly, flamed with +uncontrollable passions.</p> +<p>“Are only the poor to suffer?” she continued, as her, +burning eyes fell on the young girl. “Shall she not +feel what I did?”</p> +<p>“Back woman!” exclaimed one of the barn-burners, +sternly. “This is no place for you.”</p> +<p>“Who has a better right to be here?” retorted the +woman.</p> +<p>“But this is not woman’s work!”</p> +<p>“Woman’s work!” Fiercely. “As much woman’s +work as for his trull to try to save him! Oh? let me +see him!”</p> +<p>Gently the soldier, now partly recovering his +strength, thrust the young girl behind him, as pushing +to the foreground the woman regarded him vengefully. +But in her eyes the hatred and bitter aversion +faded slowly, to be replaced by perplexity, which in +turn gave way to wonder, while the uplifted arm, +raised threateningly against him, fell passively to her +side. At first, astonished, doubting, she did not speak, +then her lips moved mechanically.</p> +<p>“That is not the land baron,” she cried, staring at +him in disappointment that knew no language.</p> +<p>“The woman is right,” added a masquerader. “I +know Mauville, too, for he told me to go to the devil +when I asked him to wait for his rent.”</p> +<p>At this unexpected announcement, imprecations and +murmurs of incredulity were heard on all sides.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span></div> +<p>“Woman, would you shield your husband’s murderer?” +exclaimed an over-zealous barn-burner.</p> +<p>“Shield him!” she retorted, as if aroused from a +trance. “No, no! I’m not here for that! But this +is not the patroon. His every feature is burned into +my heart! I tell you it is not he. Yet he should be +here. Did I not see him driving toward the manor?” +And she gazed wildly around.</p> +<p>For a moment, following this impassioned outburst, +their rough glances sought one another’s, and the soldier +quickly took advantage of this cessation of hostilities.</p> +<p>“No; I am not the land baron,” he interposed.</p> +<p>“You aren’t?” growled a disappointed lease-holder. +“Then who the devil are you? An anti-renter?” he +added, suspiciously.</p> +<p>“He must be an enemy of the land baron,” interrupted +the woman, passing her hand across her brow. +“He was with us in the grove. I saw him ride up and +took him to be a barn-burner. He crossed the +meadow with us. I saw his face; distinctly as I see it +now! He asked me about the patroon––yes, I remember +now!––and what was she like, the woman who +was with him!”</p> +<p>“I am no friend of his,” continued the soldier in a +firm voice. “You had one purpose in seeking him; +I, another! He carried off this lady. I was following +him, when I met you in the grove.”</p> +<p>“Then how came you here––in this room?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span></div> +<p>“By the way of a tree, the branch of which reaches +to the window.”</p> +<p>“The land baron was in this room a moment ago. +Where is he now?”</p> +<p>For answer Saint-Prosper pointed to the window.</p> +<p>“Then you let him––”</p> +<p>“We’re wasting time,” impatiently shouted the barn-burner +who had disclaimed the soldier’s identity to +the patroon. “Come!” With an oath. “Do you +want to lose him after all? He can’t be far away. +And this one, damn him! isn’t our man!”</p> +<p>For a second the crowd wavered, then with a vengeful +shout they shot from the room, disappearing as +quickly as they had come. Led by Little Thunder, +who, being a man of peace, had discreetly remained +without, they had reached the gate in their headlong +pursuit when they were met by a body of horsemen, +about to turn into the yard as the anti-renters were +hurrying out. At sight of this formidable band, the +lease-holders immediately scattered. Taken equally +by surprise, the others made little effort to intercept +them and soon they had vanished over field and down +dell. Then the horsemen turned, rode through the +avenue of trees, and drew up noisily before the portico.</p> +<p>From their window the soldier and his companion +observed the abrupt encounter at the entrance of the +manor grounds and the dispersion of the lease-holders +like leaves before the autumn gusts. Constance, who +had breathlessly watched the flight of the erstwhile +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +assailants, felt her doubts reawakened as the horsemen +drew up before the door.</p> +<p>“Are they coming back?” she asked, involuntarily +clasping the arm of her companion.</p> +<p>She who had been so courageous and self-controlled +throughout that long, trying day, on a sudden felt +strangely weak and dependent. He leaned from the +narrow casement to command the view below, striving +to pierce the gloom, and she, following his example, +gazed over his shoulder. Either a gust of air +had extinguished the light in the candelabra on the +mantel, or the tallow dip had burnt itself out, for the +room was now in total darkness so that they could +dimly see, without being seen.</p> +<p>“These men are not the ones who just fled,” he replied.</p> +<p>“Then who are they?” she half-whispered, drawing +unconsciously closer in that moment of jeopardy, her +face distant but a curl’s length.</p> +<p>Below the men were dismounting, tying their horses +among the trees. Like a noisy band of troopers they +were talking excitedly, but their words were indistinguishable.</p> +<p>“Why do you suppose they fled from them?” she +continued.</p> +<p>Was it a tendril of the vine that touched his cheek +gently? He started, his face toward the haze in the +open borderland.</p> +<p>“Clearly these men are not the lease-holders. They +may be seeking you.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span></div> +<p>She turned eagerly from the window. In the darkness +their hands met. Momentary compunction made +her pause.</p> +<p>“I haven’t yet thanked you!” And he felt the cold, +nervous pressure of her hands on his. “You must +have ridden very hard and very far!”</p> +<p>His hand closed suddenly upon one of hers. He +was not thinking of the ride, but of how she had placed +herself beside him in his moment of peril; how she +had held them––not long––but a moment––yet long +enough!</p> +<p>“They’re coming in! They’re down stairs!” she +exclaimed excitedly.</p> +<p>A flickering light below suddenly threw dim moving +shadows upon the ceiling of the hall. As she +spoke she stepped forward and stumbled over the debris +at the door. His arm was about her, almost before +the startled exclamation had fallen from her lips; for +a moment her shapely, young figure rested against +him. But quickly she extricated herself, and they +picked their way cautiously over the bestrewn +threshold out into the hall.</p> +<p>At the balustrade, they paused. Reconnoitering at +the turn, they were afforded full survey of the lower +hall where the latest comers had taken possession. +Few in numbers, the gathering had come to a dead +stop, regarding in surprise the broken door, and the +furniture wantonly demolished. But amid this scene +of rack and ruin, an object of especial wonder to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +newcomers was the great lifting-stone lying in the +hall amid the havoc it had wrought.</p> +<p>“No one but Dick, the tollman, could have thrown +that against the door!” said a little man who seemed +a person of authority. “I wonder where the patroon +can be?”</p> +<p>With unusual pallor of face the young girl stepped +from behind the sheltering post. Her hand, resting +doubtfully upon the balustrade, sought in unconscious +appeal her companion’s arm, as they descended together +the broad steps. In the partial darkness the +little man ill discerned the figures, but divined their +bearing in the relation of outlines limned against the +obscure background.</p> +<p>“Why,” he muttered in surprise, “this is not the +patroon! And here, if I am not mistaken, is the lady +Mr. Barnes is so anxious about.”</p> +<p>“Mr. Barnes––he is with you?”</p> +<p>It was Constance that spoke.</p> +<p>“Yes; but––”</p> +<p>“Where is he?”</p> +<p>“We left him a ways down the road and––”</p> +<p>The sound of a horse’s hoof beats in front of the +manor, breaking in on this explanation, was followed +by hurried footsteps upon the porch. The newcomer +paused on the threshold, when, with an exclamation +of joy, Constance rushed to him, and in a moment was +clasped in the arms of the now jubilant Barnes.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_COUNCIL_AT_THE_TOWN_PUMP' id='CHAPTER_XVI_THE_COUNCIL_AT_THE_TOWN_PUMP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP</h3> +</div> +<p>Next morning the sun had made but little progress +in the heavens and the dew was not yet off the grass +when the party, an imposing cavalcade, issued from +the manor on the return journey. Their home-coming +was uneventful. The barn-burners had disappeared +like rabbits in their holes; the manor whose +master had fled, deserted even by the faithful Oly-koeks, +was seen for the last time from the brow of the +hill, and then, with its gables and extensive wings, vanished +from sight.</p> +<p>“Well,” remarked Barnes as they sped down the +road, “it was a happy coincidence for me that led the +anti-renters to the patroon’s house last night.”</p> +<p>And he proceeded to explain how when he had +sought the magistrate, he found that official organizing +a <i>posse comitatus</i> for the purpose of quelling an +anticipated uprising of lease-holders. In answer to +the manager’s complaint the custodian of the law had +asserted his first duty was generally to preserve the +peace; afterward, he would attend to Barnes’ particular +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span> +grievance. Obliged to content himself as best he +might with this meager assurance, the manager, at his +wit’s end, had accompanied the party whose way had +led them in the direction the carriage had taken, and +whose final destination––an unhoped-for consummation!––had +proved the ultimate goal of his own desires.</p> +<p>On reaching, that afternoon, the town where they +were playing, Susan was the first of the company to +greet Constance.</p> +<p>“Now that it’s all over,” she laughed, “I rather +envy you that you were rescued by such a handsome +cavalier.”</p> +<p>“Really,” drawled Kate, “I should have preferred +not being rescued. The owner of a coach, a coat of +arms, silver harness, and the best horses in the country! +I could drive on forever.”</p> +<p>But later, alone with Susan, she looked hard at her:</p> +<p>“So you fainted yesterday?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m a perfect coward,” returned the other, +frankly.</p> +<p>Kate’s mind rapidly swept the rough and troubled +past; the haphazard sea upon which they had embarked +so long ago––</p> +<p>“Dear me!” she remarked quietly, and Susan turned +to conceal a blush.</p> +<p>Owing to the magistrate’s zeal in relating the story +of the rescue, the players’ success that night was great.</p> +<p>“The hall was filled to overflowing,” says the manager +in his date book. “At the end of the second act, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +the little girl was called out, and much to her inward +discomfiture the magistrate presented her with a bouquet +and the audience with a written speech. Taking +advantage of the occasion, he pointed a political moral +from the tale, and referred to his own candidacy to +the legislature, where he would look after the interests +of the rank and file. It was time the land-owners +were taught their places––not by violence––Oh, no––no +French methods for Americans!––by ballot, not by +bullet! Let the people vote for an amendment to the +constitution!</p> +<p>“As we were preparing to leave the theater, the +magistrate appeared behind the scenes. ‘Of course, +Mr. Barnes, you will appear against the patroon?’ he +said. ‘His prosecution will do much to fortify the +issue.’</p> +<p>“‘That is all very fine,’ I returned, satirically. ‘But +will the Lord provide while we are trying the case? +Shall we find miraculous sustenance? We live by +moving on, sir. One or two nights in a place; sometimes, +a little longer! No, no; ’tis necessary to forget, +if not to forgive. You’ll have to fortify your issue +without us.’</p> +<p>“‘Well, well,’ he said, good-naturedly, ‘if it’s against +your interests, I have no wish to press the matter.’ +Whereupon we shook hands heartily and parted. I +looked around for Constance, but she had left the hall +with Saint-Prosper. Have I been wise in asking him +to join the chariot? I sometimes half regret we are +beholden to him––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span></div> +<p>From the Shadengo Valley Barnes’ company proceeded +by easy stages to Ohio, where the roads were +more difficult than any the chariot had yet encountered. +On every hand, as they crossed the country, +sounded the refrains of that memorable song-campaign +which gave to the state the fixed sobriquet of +“Buckeye.” Drawing near the capital, where the convention +was to be held, a log cabin, on an enormous +wagon, passed the chariot. A dozen horses fancifully +adorned were harnessed to this novel vehicle; +flowers over-ran the cabin-home, hewn from the buckeye +logs of the forest near Marysville. In every window +appeared the faces of merry lads and lasses, and, +as they journeyed on, their chorus echoed over field and +through forest. The wood-cutter leaned on his ax to +listen; the plowman waved his coonskin cap, his +wife, a red handkerchief from the doorway of their +log cabin.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Oh, tell me where the Buckeye cabin was made?<br /> +’Twas built among the boys who wield the plow and spade,<br /> +Where the log-cabin stands in the bonnie Buckeye shade.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>From lip to lip the song had been carried, until the +entire country was singing it, and the log-cabin had +become a part of the armorial bearings of good citizenship, +especially applicable to the crests of presidents. +Well might the people ask:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Oh, what has caused this great commotion<br /> +All the country through?”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span></div> +<p>which the ready chorus answered:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“It is a ball a-rolling on<br /> +For Tippecanoe and Tyler, too!”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The least of the strollers’ troubles at this crucial +period of their wanderings were the bad roads or the +effects of song and log-cabin upon the “amusement +world,” the greatest being a temperance orator who +thundered forth denunciations of rum and the theater +with the bitterness of a Juvenal inveighing profligate +Rome. The people crowded the orator’s hall, upon +the walls of which hung the customary banners: +a serpent springing from the top of a barrel; the +steamboat, Alcohol, bursting her boiler and going to +pieces, and the staunch craft, Temperance, safe and +sound, sailing away before a fair wind. With perfect +self-command, gift of mimicry and dramatic gestures, +the lecturer swayed his audience; now bubbling over +with witty anecdotes, again exercising his power of +graphic portraiture. His <i>elixir vitae</i>––animal spirits––humanized +his effort, and, as Sir Robert Peel played +upon the House of Commons “as on an old fiddle,” so +John B. Gough (for it was the versatile comic singer, +actor and speaker) sounded the chords of that homely +gathering.</p> +<p>Whatever he was, “poet, orator and dramatist, an +English Gavazzi,” or, “mountebank,” “humbug,” or +“backslider,” Mr. Gough was, even at that early +period, an antagonist not to be despised. He had been +out of pocket and out at the elbows––indeed, his wardrobe +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +now was mean and scanty; want and privation +had been his companions, and, from his grievous experiences, +he had become a sensational story-teller of +low life and penury. Certainly Barnes had reason to +lament the coincidence which brought players and lecturer +into town at the same time, especially as the latter +was heralded under the auspices of the Band of +Hope.</p> +<p>The temperance lectures and a heavy rain combined +to the undoing of the strollers. Majestically the dark +clouds rolled up, outspread like a pall, and the land +lay beneath the ban of a persistent downpour. People +remained indoors, for the most part, and the only +signs of life Barnes saw from the windows of the hotel +were the landlord’s Holderness breed of cattle, +mournfully chewing their monotonous cuds, and some +Leicester sheep, wofully wandering in the pasture, or +huddled together like balls of stained cotton beneath +the indifferent protection of a tree amid field.</p> +<p>Exceptional inducements could not tempt the villagers +to the theater. Even an epilogue gained for +them none of Mr. Gough’s adherents. “The Temperance +Doctor” failed miserably; “Drunkard’s +Warning” admonished pitiably few; while as for +“Drunkard’s Doom,” no one cared what it might be +and left him to it.</p> +<p>After such a disastrous engagement the manager +not only found himself at the end of his resources, but +hopelessly indebted, and, with much reluctance, laid +the matter before the soldier who had already advanced +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +Barnes a certain sum after their conversation on the +night of the country dance and had also come to his +assistance on an occasion when box-office receipts +and expenses had failed to meet. Moreover, he +had been a free, even careless, giver, not looking after +his business concerns with the prudent anxiety of a +merchant whose ventures are ships at the rude mercy +of a troubled sea. To this third application, however, +he did not answer immediately.</p> +<p>“Is it as bad as that?” he said at length, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Yes; it’s hard to speak about it to you,” replied the +manager, with some embarrassment, “but at New +Orleans––”</p> +<p>The soldier encountered his troubled gaze. “See +if you can sell my horse,” he answered.</p> +<p>“You mean––” began the other surprised.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Hanged if I will!” exclaimed the manager. Then +he put out his hand impulsively. “I beg your pardon. +If I had known––but if we’re ever out of this mess, +I may give a better account of my stewardship.”</p> +<p>Nevertheless, his plight now was comparable to that +of the strollers of old, hunted by beadles from towns +and villages, and classed as gypsies, vagabonds and +professed itinerants by the constables. He was no +better served than the mummers, clowns, jugglers, and +petty chapmen who, wandering abroad, were deemed +rogues and sturdy beggars. Yet no king’s censor +could have found aught “unchaste, seditious or unmete” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +in Barnes’ plays; no cause for frays or quarrels, +arising from pieces given in the old inn-yards; +no immoral matter, “whatsoever any light and fantastical +head listeth to invent or devise;” no riotous +actors of rollicking interludes, to be named in common +with fencers, bearwards and vagrants.</p> +<p>“Better give it up, Mr. Barnes,” said a remarkably +sweet and sympathetic voice, as the manager was +standing in the hotel office, turning the situation over +and over in his mind.</p> +<p>Barnes, looking around quickly to see who had read +his inmost thoughts, met the firm glance of his antagonist.</p> +<p>“Mr. Gough, it is an honor to meet one of your +talents,” replied the manager, “but”––with an attempt +to hide his concern––“I shall not be sorry, if we do +not meet again.”</p> +<p>“An inhospitable wish!” answered the speaker, fixing +his luminous eyes upon the manager. “However, +we shall probably see each other frequently.”</p> +<p>“The Fates forbid, sir!” said Barnes, earnestly. +“If you’ll tell me your route, we’ll––go the other way!”</p> +<p>“It won’t do, Mr. Barnes! The devil and the flesh +must be fairly fought. ‘Where thou goest’––You +know the scriptural saying?”</p> +<p>“You’ll follow us!” exclaimed the manager with +sudden consternation.</p> +<p>The other nodded.</p> +<p>“Why, this is tyranny! You are a Frankenstein; +an Old-Man-of-the Sea!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span></div> +<p>“Give it up,” said the orator, with a smile that singularly +illumined his thin, but powerful features. “As +I gave it up! Into what dregs of vice, what a sink +of iniquity was I plunged! The very cleansing of +my soul was an Augean task. Knavery, profligacy, +laxity of morals, looseness of principles––that was +what the stage did for me; that was the labor of Hercules +to be cleared away! Give it up, Mr. Barnes!” +And with a last penetrating look, he strode out of the +office.</p> +<p>In spite of Barnes’ refusal, the soldier offered to +sell his horse to the landlord, but the latter curtly declined, +having horses enough to “eat their heads off” +during the winter, as he expressed it. His Jeremy +Collier aversion to players was probably at the bottom +of this point-blank rebuff, however. He was a stubborn +man, czar in his own domains, a small principality +bounded by four inhospitable walls. His guests––having +no other place to go––were his subjects, or prisoners, +and distress could not find a more unfitting tribunal +before which to lay its case. There was something +so malevolent in his vigilance, so unfriendly +in his scrutiny, that to the players he seemed an +emissary of disaster, inseparable from their cruel +plight.</p> +<p>Thus it was that the strollers perforce reached a +desperate conclusion when making their way from +the theater on the last evening. By remaining longer, +they would become the more hopelessly involved; in +going––without their host’s permission––they would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span> +be taking the shortest route toward an honorable settlement +in the near future; a paradoxical flight from +the brunt of their troubles, to meet them squarely! +This, to Barnes, ample reason for unceremonious departure +was heartily approved by the company in +council assembled around the town pump.</p> +<p>“Stay and become a county burden, indeed!” exclaimed +Mrs. Adams, tragically.</p> +<p>“As well be buried alive as anchored here!” fretfully +added Susan.</p> +<p>“The council is dissolved,” said the manager, +promptly, “with no one the wiser––except the town +pump.”</p> +<p>“An ally of Mr. Gough!” suggested Adonis.</p> +<p>Thus more merrily than could have been expected, +with such a distasteful enterprise before them, they +resumed their way. It was disagreeable under foot +and they presented an odd appearance, each one with +a light. Mrs. Adams, old campaigner that she was, +led the way for the ladies, elastic and chatty as though +promenading down Broadway on a spring morning. +With their lanterns and the purpose they had in view, +they likened themselves to a band of conspirators. +As Barnes marched ahead with his light, Susan playfully +called him Guy Fawkes, of gun-powder fame, +whereupon his mind almost misgave him concerning +the grave adventure upon which they were embarked.</p> +<p>The wind was blowing furiously, doors and windows +creaked, and all the demons of unrest were moaning +that night in the hubbub of sounds. Save for a flickering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +candle in the hall, the tavern was dark, and landlord +and maids had long since retired to rest. Amid +the noise of the rain and the sobbing of the wind, +trunks were lowered from the window; the chariot +and property wagon were drawn from the stable yard +and the horses led from their stalls. In a trice they +were ready and the ladies, wrapped in their cloaks, +were in the coach. But the clatter of hoofs, the +neighing of a horse, or some other untoward circumstance, +aroused the landlord; a window in the second +story shot up and out popped a head in a night-cap.</p> +<p>“Here!––What are you about?” cried the man.</p> +<p>“Leaving!” said the manager, laconically.</p> +<p>The landlord threw up his arms like Shylock at the +loss of his money-bags.</p> +<p>“The reckoning!” he exclaimed. “What about the +reckoning?”</p> +<p>“Your pound of flesh, sir!” replied Barnes.</p> +<p>“My score! My score!” shouted the other. “You +would not leave without settling it!”</p> +<p>“Go to bed, sir,” was the answer, “and let honest +people depart without hindrance. You will be paid +out of our first profits.”</p> +<p>But the man was not so easily appeased. “Robbers! +Constable!” he screamed.</p> +<p>Conceiving it was better to be gone without further +parley, having assured him of their honorable intentions, +Barnes was about to lash the horses, when Kate +suddenly exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Where’s Constance?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span></div> +<p>“Isn’t she inside?” asked the manager quickly.</p> +<p>“No; she isn’t here.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I sent her back to get something for me I had +forgotten,” spoke up Mrs. Adams, “and she hasn’t returned +yet.”</p> +<p>“Sent her back! Madam, you have ruined everything!” +burst out Barnes, bitterly.</p> +<p>“Mr. Barnes, I won’t be spoken to like a child!”</p> +<p>“Child, indeed––”</p> +<p>But the querulous words were not uttered, for, as +the manager was about to leave the box in considerable +perturbation, there––gazing down upon them at a +window next to that occupied by the landlord––stood +Constance!</p> +<p>For a tippet, or a ruff, or some equally wretched +frippery, carelessly left by the old lady, all their plans +for deliverance appeared likely to miscarry. Presumably, +Constance, turned from her original purpose by +the noisy altercation, had hurried to the window, where +now the landlord perceived her and immediately +availed himself of the advantage offered.</p> +<p>“So one of you is left behind,” he shouted exultantly. +“And it’s the leading lady, too! I’ll take care +she stays here, until after a settlement. I’ll stop you +yet! Stealing away in the middle of the night, you––you +vagabonds!”</p> +<p>His voice, growing louder and louder, ended in a +shrieking crescendo. Disheartened, there seemed no +alternative for the players save to turn back and surrender +unconditionally. Barnes breathed a deep sigh; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +so much for a tippet!––their dash for freedom had +been but a sorry attempt!––now he saw visions of +prison bars, and uttered a groan, when the soldier +who was riding his own horse dashed forward beneath +the window and stood upright in his stirrups.</p> +<p>“Do not be afraid, Miss Carew,” he said.</p> +<p>Fortunately the window was low and the distance +inconsiderable, but Barnes held his breath, hoping the +hazard would deter her.</p> +<p>“Do not, my dear!” he began.</p> +<p>But she did not hesitate; the sight of the stalwart +figure and the strong arms, apparently reassured her, +and she stepped upon the sill.</p> +<p>“Quick!” he exclaimed, and, at the word, she +dropped into his upstretched arms. Scarcely had she +escaped, however, before the landlord was seen at the +same window. So astonished was he to find her gone, +surprise at first held him speechless; then he burst +into a volley of oaths that would have shamed a whaler’s +master.</p> +<p>“Come back!” he cried. “Come back, or––” The +alternative was lost in vengeful imprecation.</p> +<p>Holding Constance before him, the soldier resumed +his saddle. “Drive on!” he cried to Barnes, as past +the chariot sped his horse, with its double burden.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_HAND_FERRY' id='CHAPTER_XVII_THE_HAND_FERRY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>THE HAND FERRY</h3> +</div> +<p>At a lively gait down the road toward the river galloped +the horse bearing Saint-Prosper and Constance. +The thoroughfare was deserted and the dwelling +houses as well as the principal buildings of the town +were absolutely dark. At one place a dog ran out to +the front gate, disturbed by the unusual noise on the +road, and barked furiously, but they moved rapidly +on. Now the steeple of the old church loomed weirdly +against the dark background of the sky and then vanished.</p> +<p>On; on, they went, past the churchyard, with its +marble slabs indistinctly outlined in the darkness, like +a phantom graveyard, as immaterial and ghostlike itself +as the spirits of the earliest settlers at rest there +beneath the sod. This was the last indication of the +presence of the town, the final impression to carry +away into the wide country, where the road ran +through field and forest. As they sped along, they +plunged into a chasm of blackness, caused by the trees +on both sides of the road which appeared to be constantly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +closing upon them. In the darkness of that +stygian tunnel, dashing blindly through threatening +obscurity, she yet felt no terrors, for a band of steel +seemed to hold her above some pit of “visible night.”</p> +<p>Out of the tunnel into the comparatively open space, +the wind boomed with all its force, and like an enraged +monster, drove the storm-clouds, now rainless, across +the sky. Occasionally the moon appeared through +some aperture, serene, peace-inspiring, momentarily +gilding the dark vapor, and again was swallowed up +by another mass of clouds. A brood of shadows +leaped around them, like things of life, now dancing in +the road or pursuing through the tufts of grass, then +vanishing over the meadows or disappearing in +murky nooks. But a moment were they gone and +then, marshaled in new numbers, menacing before +and behind, under the very feet of the horse, +bidding defiance to the clattering hoofs. With mane +tossed in the angry wind, and nostrils dilated, the animal +neighed with affright, suddenly leaping aside, as +a little nest of unknown dangers lurked and rustled in +the ambush of a drift of animated brush.</p> +<p>At that abrupt start, the rider swayed; his grasp +tightened about the actress’ waist; her arms involuntarily +held him closer. Loosened by the wind and the +mad motion, her hair brushed his cheek and fell over +his shoulder, whipped sharply in the breeze. A +fiercer gust, sweeping upon them uproariously, sent +all the tresses free, and scudded by with an exultant +shriek. For a time they rode in this wise, her face +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span> +cold in the rush of wind; his gaze fixed ahead, striving +to pierce the gloom, and then he drew rein, holding +the horse with some difficulty at a standstill in the +center of the thoroughfare.</p> +<p>With senses numbed by the stirring flight, the young +girl had been oblivious to the firmness of the soldier’s +sustaining grasp, but now as they paused in the silent, +deserted spot, she became suddenly conscious of it. +The pain––so fast he held her!––made her wince. She +turned her face to his. A glint of light fell on his +brow and any lines that had appeared there were +erased in the magical glimmer; eagerness, youth, passion +alone shone upon his features.</p> +<p>His arm clasped her even yet more closely, as if in +the wildness of the moment he would fiercely draw her +to him regardless of all. Did she understand––that +with her face so near his, her hair surrounding him, her +figure pressed in that close embrace––he must needs +speak to her; had, indeed, spoken to her. She was +conscious her hand on his shoulder trembled. Her +cheek was no longer cold; abruptly the warm glow +mantled it. Was it but that a momentary calm fell +around them; the temporary hush of the boisterous +wind? And yet, when again the squall swept by with +renewed turmoil, her face remained unchilled. She +seemed but a child in his arms. How light her own +hand-touch compared to that compelling grasp with +which he held her! She remembered he had but +spoken to her standing in the window, and she had +obeyed without a question––without thought of fear. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +She longed to spring to the ground now, to draw herself +from him.</p> +<p>“You can hear the chariot down the road, Miss +Carew.”</p> +<p>Quickly her glance returned to his face; his gaze +was bent down the thoroughfare. He spoke so quietly +she wondered at her momentary fears; his voice reassured +her.</p> +<p>A gleam of light shot through a rift in the clouds.</p> +<p>“Hello-a!” came a welcome voice from the distance.</p> +<p>“Hello-a!” answered the soldier.</p> +<p>“You’d better ride on!” shouted the manager. +“They’re after us!”</p> +<p>For answer the soldier touched his horse, and now +began a race for the river and the ferry, which were in +plain sight, Luna fortunately at this critical moment +sailing from between the vapors and shining from a +clear lake in the sky. The chaste light, out of the angry +convulsions of the heavens, showed the fugitives the +road and the river, winding like a broad band of silver +across the darkness of the earth, its surface rippled +into waves by the northern wind. Behind them the +soldier and Constance could hear the coach creaking +and groaning. It seemed to careen on its beams’ end, +but some special providence was watching over the +players and no catastrophe occurred.</p> +<p>Nearer came the men on horseback down the hill; +now the foremost shouted. Closer was the river; +Saint-Prosper reached its bank; the gang-plank was in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +position and he dashed aboard. With a mighty tossing +and rolling, the chariot approached, rattled safely +across the gangway, followed by the property wagon, +and eager hands grasped the rope, extending from +shore to shore above the large, flat craft. These hand +ferries, found in various sections of the country, were +strongly, although crudely, constructed, their sole +means of locomotion in the stationary rope, by means +of which the passengers, providing their own power +for transportation, drew themselves to the opposite +shore.</p> +<p>The energy now applied to the hempen strand sent +the ferry many feet from the shore out into the river, +where the current was much swifter than usual, owing +to the heavy rainfalls. The horses on the great cumbersome +craft were snorting with terror.</p> +<p>Crack! pish! One of the men on the shore used +his revolver.</p> +<p>“An illogical and foolish way to collect debts, that!” +grumbled the manager, tugging at the rope. “If they +kill us, how can we requite them for our obligations?”</p> +<p>The river was unusually high and the current set +the boat, heavily loaded, tugging at the rope. However, +it resisted the strain and soon the craft grated +on the sand and the party disembarked, safe from constable +and bailiff in the brave, blue grass country. +Only one mishap occurred, and that to Adonis, who, in +his haste, fell into the shallow water. He was as disconsolate +as the young hero Minerva threw into the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +sea to wrest him from the love of Eucharis. But in +this case, Eucharis (Kate) laughed immoderately at +his discomfiture.</p> +<p>As Barnes was not sure of the road, the strollers +camped upon the bank. The river murmured a seductive +cradle-song to the rushes, and, on the shore, +from the dark and ominous background, came the +deeper voice of the pines.</p> +<p>Constance, who had been unusually quiet and +thoughtful, gradually recovered her spirits.</p> +<p>“Here, Mrs. Adams, is your tippet,” she said with +a merry smile, taking a bit of lace from her dress.</p> +<p>“Thank you, my dear; I wouldn’t have lost it for +anything!” said the old lady, effusively, while Barnes +muttered something beneath his breath.</p> +<p>The soldier, who had dismissed the manager’s +thanks somewhat abruptly, occupied himself arranging +the cushions from the chariot on the grass. Suddenly +Mrs. Adams noticed a crimson stain on his shoulder.</p> +<p>“Sir!” she exclaimed, in the voice of the heroine +of “Oriana,” “you are wounded!”</p> +<p>“It is nothing, Madam!” he replied.</p> +<p>Stripping off his coat, Barnes found the wound was, +indeed, but slight, the flesh having just been pierced.</p> +<p>“How romantic!” gushed Susan. “He stood in front +of Constance when the firing began. Now, no one +thought of poor me. On the contrary, if I am not mistaken, +Mr. Hawkes discreetly stood behind me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span></div> +<p>“Jokes reflecting upon one’s honor are in bad taste,” +gravely retorted the melancholy actor.</p> +<p>“Indeed, I thought it no jest at the time!” replied the +other.</p> +<p>“Mistress Susan, your tongue is dangerous!”</p> +<p>“Mr. Hawkes, your courage will never lead you +into danger!”</p> +<p>“Nay,” he began, angrily, “this is a serious offense––”</p> +<p>“On the contrary,” she said, laughing, “it is a question +of defense.”</p> +<p>“There is no arguing with a woman,” he grumbled. +“She always takes refuge in her tongue.”</p> +<p>“While you, Mr. Hawkes, take refuge––”</p> +<p>But the other arose indignantly and strode into the +gloom. Meanwhile Barnes, while dressing the injury, +discovered near the cut an old scar thoroughly healed, +but so large and jagged it attracted his attention.</p> +<p>“That hurt was another matter,” said he, touching +it.</p> +<p>Was it the manager’s fingers or his words caused +Saint-Prosper to wince? “Yes, it was another matter,” +he replied, hurriedly. “An Arab spear––or something +of the kind!”</p> +<p>“Tell us about it,” prattled Susan. “You have never +told us anything about Africa. It seems a forbidden +subject.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps he has a wife in Tangiers, or Cairo,” +laughed Kate.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span></div> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“He was wed in Amsterdam,<br /> +Again in far Siam,<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>And after this<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Sought triple bliss<br /> +And married in Hindustan,”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>sang Susan.</p> +<p>The soldier made some evasive response to this +raillery and then became silent. Soon quiet prevailed +in the encampment; only out of the recesses of the +forest came the menacing howl of a vagabond wolf.</p> +<p>“Such,” says Barnes in his notebook, “is the true +history of an adventure which created some talk at +the time. A perilous, regrettable business at best, +but we acted according to our light and were enabled +thereafter to requite our obligations, which could not +have been done had they seized the properties, poor +garments of players’ pomp; tools whereby we earned +our meager livelihood. If, after this explanation, anyone +still has aught of criticism, I must needs be silent, +not controverting his censure.</p> +<p>“With some amusement I learned that our notable +belligerent, Mr. Gough, was well-nigh reduced to the +same predicament as that in which we found ourselves. +He could not complain of his audiences, and the Band +of Hope gained many recruits by his coming, but, +through some misapprehension, the customary collections +were overlooked. The last night of the lecture, +the chairman of the evening, at the conclusion of the +address, arose and said: ‘I move we thank Mr. Gough +for his eloquent effort and then adjourn.’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span></div> +<p>“The motion prevailed, and the gathering was about +to disperse when the platform bludgeon-man held +them with a gesture. ‘Will you kindly put your thanks +in writing, that I may offer it for my hotel bill,’ said +he.</p> +<p>“But for this quick wit and the gathering’s response +to the appeal he would have been in the same boat with +us, or rather, on the same boat––the old hand ferry! +Subsequently, he became a speaker of foreign and national +repute, but at that time he might have traveled +from Scarboro’ to Land’s End without attracting a +passing glance.”</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:20px;'>BOOK II</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_THE_FASTIDIOUS_MARQUIS' id='CHAPTER_I_THE_FASTIDIOUS_MARQUIS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS</h3> +</div> +<p>Through the land of the strapping, thick-ribbed pioneers +of Kentucky the strollers bent their course––a +country where towns and hamlets were rapidly springing +up in the smiling valleys or on the fertile hillsides; +where new families dropping in, and old ones +obeying the injunction to be “fruitful and multiply” +had so swelled the population that the region, but a +short time before sparsely settled, now teemed with a +sturdy people. To Barnes’ satisfaction, many of the +roads were all that could have been wished for, the +turnpike system of the center of the state reflecting unbounded +credit upon its builders.</p> +<p>If a people may be judged by its highways, Kentucky, +thus early, with its macadamized roads deserved a +prominent place in the sisterhood of states. Moreover, +while mindful always of her own internal advancement, +she persistently maintained an ever-watchful +eye and closest scrutiny on the parental government +and the acts of congress. “Give a Kentuckian +a plug of tobacco and a political antagonist and he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +will spend a comfortable day where’er he may be,” +has been happily said. It was this hardy, horse-raising, +tobacco-growing community which had given the peerless +Clay to the administrative councils of the country; +it was this rugged cattle-breeding, whisky-distilling +people which had offered the fearless Zach Taylor to +spread the country’s renown on the martial field.</p> +<p>What sunny memories were woven in that pilgrimage +for the strollers! Remembrance of the corn-husking +festivities, and the lads who, having found the red +ears, kissed the lasses of their choice; of the dancing +that followed––double-shuffle, Kentucky heel-tap, +pigeon wing or Arkansas hoe-down! And mingling +with the remembrance of such pleasing diversions were +the yet more satisfying recollections of large audiences, +generous-minded people and substantial rewards, well-won; +rewards which enabled them shortly afterward +to pay by post the landlord from whom they had fled.</p> +<p>Down the Father of Waters a month or so after +their flight into the blue grass country steamed the +packet bearing the company of players, leaving behind +them the Chariot of the Muses.</p> +<p>At the time of their voyage down the Mississippi +“the science of piloting was not a thing of the dead +and pathetic past,” and wonderful accounts were written +of the autocrats of the wheel and the characteristics +of the ever-changing, ever-capricious river. “Accidents!” +says an early steamboat captain. “Oh, sometimes +we run foul of a snag or sawyer, occasionally +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span> +collapse a boiler and blow up sky-high. We get used +to these little matters and don’t mind them.”</p> +<p>None of these trifling incidents was experienced +by the players, however, who thereby lost, according +to the Munchausens of the period, half of the pleasure +and excitement of the trip. In fact, nothing more +stirring than taking on wood from a flatboat alongside, +or throwing a plank ashore for a passenger, +varied the monotony of the hour, and, approaching +their destination, the last day on the “floating palace” +dawned serenely, uneventfully.</p> +<p>The gray of early morn became suffused with red, +like the flush of life on a pallid cheek. Arrows of light +shot out above the trees; an expectant hush pervaded +the forest. Inside the cabin a sleepy negro began the +formidable task of sweeping. This duty completed, he +shook a bell, which feature of his daily occupation the +darky entered into with diabolical energy, and soon +the ear-rending discord brought the passengers on +deck. But hot cornbread, steaks and steaming coffee +speedily restored that equanimity of temper disturbed +by the morning’s clangorous summons.</p> +<p>Breakfast over, some of the gentlemen repaired to +the boiler deck for the enjoyment of cigars, the ladies +surrounded the piano in the cabin, while a gambler +busied himself in getting into the good graces of a +young fellow who was seeing the world. Less lonely +became the shores, as the boat, panting as if from long +exertion, steamed on. Carrolton and Lafayette were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +left behind. Now along the banks stretched the showy +houses and slave plantations of the sugar planters; +and soon, from the deck of the boat, the dome of the +St. Charles and the cathedral towers loomed against the +sky.</p> +<p>Beyond a mile or so of muddy water and a formidable +fleet of old hulks, disreputable barges and “small +fry broad-horns,” lay Algiers, graceless itself as the uninviting +foreground; looking out contemplatively from +its squalor at the inspiring view of Nouvelle Orleans, +with the freighters, granaries and steamboats, three +stories high, floating past; comparing its own inertia––if +a city can be presumed capable of such edifying +consciousness!––with the aspect of the busy levee, +where cotton bales, sugar hogsheads, molasses casks, +tobacco, hemp and other staple articles of the South, +formed, as it were, a bulwark, or fortification of peace, +for the habitations behind it. Such was the external +appearance––suggestive of commerce––of that little +center whose social and bohemian life was yet more +interesting than its mercantile features.</p> +<p>At that period the city boasted of its Addison of +letters––since forgotten; its Feu-de-joie, the peerless +dancer, whose beauty had fired the Duke Gambade to +that extravagant conduct which made the recipient of +those marked attentions the talk of the town; its Roscius +of the drama; its irresistible <i>ingenue</i>, the lovely, +little Fantoccini; and its theatrical carpet-knight, +M. Grimacier, whose intrigue with the stately and, +heretofore, saintly Madame Etalage had, it was said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +later, much to do with the unhappy taking-off of that +ostentatious and haughty lady. It had Mlle. Affettuoso, +songstress, with, it is true, an occasional break in +her trill; and, last, but not least, that general friend of +mankind, more puissant, powerful and necessary than +all the nightingales, butterflies, or men of letters––who, +nevertheless, are well enough in their places!––Tortier, +the only Tortier, who carried the <i>art de cuisine</i> to +ravishing perfection, whose ragouts were sonnets in +sauce and whose fricassees nothing less than idyls!</p> +<p>Following the strollers’ experiences with short engagements +and improvised theaters, there was solace +in the appearance of the city of cream and honey, and +the players, assembled on the boiler deck, regarded the +thriving port with mingled feelings as they drew +nearer. Susan began forthwith to dream of conquests––a +swarthy Mexican, the owner of an opal mine; a +prince from Brazil; a hidalgo, exile, or any other notable +among the cosmopolitan people. Adonis bethought +himself of dusky beauties, waiting in their carriages at +the stage entrance; sighing for him, languishing for +him; whirling him away to a supper room––and Paradise! +Regretfully the wiry old lady reverted to the +time when she and her first husband had visited this +Paris of the South, and, with a deep sigh, paid brief +tribute to the memory of conjugal felicity.</p> +<p>Constance’s eyes were grave as they rested upon the +city where she would either triumph or fail, and the +seriousness of her task came over her, leaning with +clasped hands against the railing of the boat. Among +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +that busy host what place would be made for her? +How easy it seemed to be lost in the legion of workers; +to be crushed in the swaying crowd! It was as though +she were entering a room filled with strangers, and +stood hesitating on the threshold. But youth’s assurance +soon set aside this gloomy picture; the +shadow of a smile lighted her face and her glance +grew bright. At twenty the world is rosy and in the +perspective are many castles.</p> +<p>Near by the soldier also leaned against the rail, looking +not, however, at New Orleans but at her, while +all unconscious of his regard she continued to gaze +cityward. His face, too, was thoughtful. The haphazard +journey was approaching its end, and with +it, in all likelihood, the bond of union, the alliance of +close comradeship associated with the wilderness. She +was keenly alive to honor, fame, renown. What meaning +had those words to him––save for her? He smiled +bitterly, as a sudden revulsion of dark thoughts +crowded upon him. He had had his bout; the sands +of the arena that once had shone golden now were +dust.</p> +<p>Drawing up to the levee, they became a part of the +general bustle and confusion; hurriedly disembarked, +rushed about for their luggage, because every one else +was rushing; hastily entered carriages of which there +was a limited supply, and were whisked off over the +rough cobblestones which constituted the principal +pavements of the city; catching momentary glimpses, +between oscillations, of oyster saloons, fruit and old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +clothes’ shops, and coffee stands, where the people ate +in the open air. In every block were <i>cafés</i> or restaurants, +and the sign “Furnished Rooms” appearing at +frequent intervals along the thoroughfare through +which they drove at headlong pace, bore evidence to +the fact that the city harbored many strangers.</p> +<p>The hotel was finally reached––and what a unique +hostelry it was! “Set the St. Charles down in St. +Petersburg,” commented a chronicler in 1846, “and you +would think it a palace; in Boston, and ten to one, +you would christen it a college; in London, and it +would remind you of an exchange.” It represented at +that day the evolution of the American tavern, the +primitive inn, instituted for passengers and wayfaring +men; the development of the pot-house to the metropolitan +hotel, of the rural ale-room to the palatial +saloon.</p> +<p>“What a change from country hostelries!” soliloquized +the manager, after the company were installed +in commodious rooms. “No more inns where soap +and towels are common property, and a comb, without +its full complement of teeth, does service for all +comers!” he continued, gazing around the apartment +in which he found himself. “Think of real gas in your +room, Barnes, and great chairs, easy as the arms of +Morpheus! Are you comfortable, my dear?” he called +out.</p> +<p>Constance’s voice in an adjoining room replied affirmatively, +and he added: “I’m going down stairs to +look around a bit.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span></div> +<p>Beneath the porch and reception hall extended the +large bar-room, where several score of men were enjoying +their liquors and lunches, and the hum of conversation, +the clinking of glasses and the noise made +by the skilful mixer of drinks were as sweet music +to the manager, when shortly after he strode to +the bar. Wearing neither coat nor vest, the bartender’s +ruffled shirt displayed a glistening stone; the +sleeves were ornamented with gold buttons and the +lace collar had a Byronic roll.</p> +<p>“What will you have, sir?” he said in a well-modulated +voice to a big Virginian, who had preceded +Barnes into the room.</p> +<p>“A julep,” was the reply, “and, while you are making +it, a little whisky straight.”</p> +<p>A bottle of bourbon was set before him, and he +wasted no valuable time while the bartender manipulated +the more complicated drink. Experiencing the +felicity of a man who has entered a higher civilization, +the manager ordered a bottle of iced ale, drank it with +gusto, and, seating himself, was soon partaking of a +palatable dish. By this time the Virginian, joined by +a friend, had ordered another julep for the near future +and a little “straight” for the immediate present.</p> +<p>“Happy days!” said the former.</p> +<p>“And yours happier!” replied the newcomer.</p> +<p>“Why, it’s Utopia,” thought Barnes. “Every one is +happy!”</p> +<p>But even as he thus ruminated, his glance fell upon +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span> +an old man at the next table whom the waiters treated +with such deference the manager concluded he must be +some one of no slight importance. This gentleman was +thin, wrinkled and worn, with a face Voltairian in +type, his hair scanty, his dress elegant, and his satirical +smile like the “flash of a dagger in the sunlight.” He +was inspecting his bouillon with manifest distrust, adjusting +his eye-glass and thrusting his head close to +the plate. The look of suspicion deepened and finally +a grimace of triumph illumined his countenance, as +he rapped excitedly on the table.</p> +<p>“Waiter, waiter, do you see that soup?” he almost +shouted.</p> +<p>“Yes, Monsieur le Marquis,” was the humble response.</p> +<p>“Look at it well!” thundered the old gentleman. +“Do you find nothing extraordinary about it?”</p> +<p>Again the bouillon was examined, to the amusement +of the manager.</p> +<p>“I am sorry, Monsieur le Marquis; I can detect nothing +unusual,” politely responded the waiter, when he +had concluded a pains-taking scrutiny with all the +gravity and seriousness attending so momentous an +investigation.</p> +<p>“You are blind!” exclaimed the old man. “See +there; a spot of grease floating in the bouillon, and +there, another and another! In fact, here is an ‘Archipelago +of Greece!’” This witticism was relieved by +an ironical smile. “Take it away!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></div> +<p>The waiter hurried off with the offending dish and +the old man looked immensely satisfied over the disturbance +he had created.</p> +<p>“Well has it been said,” thought the manager, “that +the destiny of a nation depends upon the digestion of +its first minister! I wonder what he’ll do next?”</p> +<p>Course after course that followed was rejected, the +guest keeping up a running comment:</p> +<p>“This sauce is not properly prepared. This salad +is not well mixed. I shall starve in this place. These +truffles; spoiled in the importation!”</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur le Marquis,”––clasping his hands in +despair––“they were preserved in melted paraffin.”</p> +<p>“What do I care about your paraffin? Never mind +anything more, waiter. I could not eat a mouthful. +What is the bill? Very well; and there is something +for yourself, blockhead.”</p> +<p>“Thank you, Monsieur le Marquis.” Deferentially.</p> +<p>“The worst meal I’ve ever had! And I’ve been in +Europe, Asia and Africa. Abominable––abominable––idiot +of a waiter––miserable place, miserable––and this +dyspepsia––”</p> +<p>Thus running on, with snatches of caustic criticism, +the old gentleman shambled out, the waiter holding the +door open for him and bowing obsequiously.</p> +<p>“An amiable individual!” observed Barnes to the +waiter. “Is he stopping at the hotel?”</p> +<p>“No, Monsieur. He has an elegant house near by. +The last time he was here he complimented the cook +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +and praised the sauces. He is a little––what you call +it?––whimsical!”</p> +<p>“Yes; slightly inclined that way. But is he here +alone?”</p> +<p>“He is, Monsieur. He loses great sums in the +gambling rooms. He keeps a box at the theater for +the season. He is a prince––a great lord––?”</p> +<p>“Even if he calls you ‘liar’ and ‘blockhead’?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur,”––displaying a silver dollar with an +expressive shrug of the shoulders––“this is the––what +you call it?––balm.”</p> +<p>“And very good balm, too,” said Barnes, heartily.</p> +<p>Still grumbling to himself, the marquis reached the +main corridor, where the scene was almost as animated +as in the bar and where the principal topic of conversation +seemed to be horses and races that had been +or were about to be run. “I’d put Uncle Rastus’ mule +against that hoss!” “That four-year-old’s quick as a +runaway nigger!” “Five hundred, the gelding beats +the runaway nigger!” “Any takers on Jolly Rogers?” +were among the snatches of talk which lent life and +zest to the various groups.</p> +<p>Sitting moodily in a corner, with legs crossed and +hat upon his knee, was a young man whose careless +glance wandered from time to time from his cigar to +the passing figures. As the marquis slowly hobbled +along, with an effort to appear alert, the young man +arose quickly and came forward with a conventional +smile, intercepting the old nobleman near the door.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span></div> +<p>“My dear Monsieur le Marquis,” he exclaimed, +effusively, “it is with pleasure I see you recovered +from your recent indisposition.”</p> +<p>“Recovered!” almost shrieked the marquis. “I’m +far from recovered; I’m worse than ever. I detest +congratulations, Monsieur! It’s what a lying world +always does when you are on the verge of dissolution.”</p> +<p>“You are as discerning as ever,” murmured the land +baron––for it was Edward Mauville.</p> +<p>“I’m not fit to be around; I only came out”––with +a sardonic chuckle––“because the doctors said it would +be fatal.”</p> +<p>“Surely you do not desire––”</p> +<p>“To show them they are impostors? Yes.”</p> +<p>“And does New Orleans continue to please you?” +asked the other, with some of that pride Southerners +entertained in those days for their queen city.</p> +<p>“How does the exile like the forced land of his +adoption?” returned the nobleman, irritably. “My +king is in exile. Why should I not be also? Should +I stay there, herd with the cattle, call every shipjack +‘Citizen’ and every clod ‘Brother’; treat every scrub as +though she were a duchess?”</p> +<p>“There is, indeed, a regrettable tendency to deify +common clay nowadays,” assented the patroon, soothingly.</p> +<p>“Why, your ‘Citizen’ regards it as condescension to +notice a man of condition!” said the marquis, violently. +“When my king was driven away by the rabble +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +the ocean was not too broad to separate me from +a swinish civilization. I will never go back; I will +live there no more!”</p> +<p>“That is good news for us,” returned the land +baron.</p> +<p>“Your politeness almost reconciles me to staying,” +said the old man, more affably. “But I am on my +way to the club. What do you say to a rubber?”</p> +<p>The patroon readily assented. In front of the hotel +waited the marquis’ carriage, on the door of which +was his coat-of-arms––argent, three mounts vert, on +each a sable bird. Entering this conveyance, they +were soon being driven over the stones at a pace which +jarred every bone in the marquis’ body and threatened +to shake the breath of life from his trembling and attenuated +figure. He jumped about like a parched +pea, and when finally they drew up with a jerk and a +jolt, the marquis was fairly gasping. After an interval +to recover himself, he took his companion’s arm, +and, with his assistance, mounted the broad steps leading +to the handsome and commodious club house.</p> +<p>“At least,” said the nobleman, dryly, as he paused +on the stairs, “our pavements are so well-kept in +Paris that a drive there in a tumbril to the scaffold +is preferable to a coach in New Orleans!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_ONLY_AN_INCIDENT' id='CHAPTER_II_ONLY_AN_INCIDENT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>“ONLY AN INCIDENT”</h3> +</div> +<p>To the scattering of the anti-renters by the rescue +party that memorable night at the manor the land +baron undoubtedly owed his safety. Beyond reach +of personal violence in a neighboring town, without +his own domains, from which he was practically exiled, +he had sought redress in the courts, only to find +his hands tied, with no convincing clue to the perpetrators +of these outrages. On the patroon lay the +burden of proof, and he found it more difficult than +he had anticipated to establish satisfactorily any kind of +a case, for alibis blocked his progress at every turn.</p> +<p>At war with his neighbors, and with little taste +for the monotony of a northern winter, he bethought +him of his native city, determined to leave the locality +and at a distance wait for the turmoil to subside. His +brief dream of the rehabilitation of the commonwealth +brought only memories stirring him to restlessness. +He made inquiries about the strollers, but to no purpose. +The theatrical band had come and gone like +gipsies.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span></div> +<p>Saying nothing to any one, except Scroggs, to whom +he entrusted a load of litigation, he at length quietly +departed in the regular stage, until he reached +a point where two strap rails proclaimed the new +method of conveyance. Wedged in the small +compartment of a little car directly behind a smoking +monster, with an enormous chimney, fed with cord-wood, +he was borne over the land, and another puffing +marvel of different construction carried him over the +water. Reaching the Crescent City some time before +the strollers––his progress expedited by a locomotive +that ran full twenty miles an hour!––the land baron +found among the latest floating population, comprised +of all sorts and conditions, the Marquis de Ligne. +The blood of the patroons flowed sluggishly through +the land baron’s veins, but his French extraction +danced in every fiber of his being. After learning +the more important and not altogether discreditable +circumstances about the land baron’s ancestors––for +if every gentleman were whipped for +godlessness, how many striped backs would there be!––the +marquis, who declined intimacy with Tom, Dick +and Harry, and their honest butchers, bakers and candlestick-makers +of forefathers, permitted an acquaintance +that accorded with his views governing social +intercourse.</p> +<p>“This is a genuine pleasure, Monsieur le Marquis,” +observed the land baron suavely, when the two found +themselves seated in a card room with brandy and +soda before them. “To meet a nobleman of the old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +school is indeed welcome in these days when New +Orleans harbors the refugees of the world, for, strive +as we will, outsiders are creeping in and corrupting +our best circles.”</p> +<p>“Soon we shall all be corrupt,” croaked the old +man. “France––but what can you expect of a nation +that exiles kings!”</p> +<p>“Ah, Louis Philippe! My father once entertained +him here in New Orleans,” said Mauville.</p> +<p>“Indeed?” remarked the marquis with interest.</p> +<p>“It was when he visited the city in 1798 with his +brothers, the Duke of Montpensier and the Count of +Beaujolais. New Orleans then did not belong to +America. France was not so eager to sell her fair +possessions in those days. I remember my father +often speaking of the royal visit. The king even +borrowed money, which”––laughing––“he forgot to +pay!”</p> +<p>The marquis’ face was a study, as he returned +stiffly: “Sir, it is a king’s privilege to borrow.”</p> +<p>“It is his immortal prerogative,” answered Mauville +easily. “I only mentioned it to show how highly he +honored my father.”</p> +<p>The nobleman lifted his eyebrows, steadily regarding +his companion.</p> +<p>“It was a great honor,” he said softly. “One does +not lend to a king. When Louis Philippe borrowed +from your father he lent luster to your ancestry.”</p> +<p>“Yes; I doubt not my father regarded himself as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +the debtor. Again, we had another distinguished +compatriot of yours at our house––General Lafayette.”</p> +<p>“Lafayette!” repeated the marquis. “Ah, that’s another +matter! A man, born to rank and condition, +voluntarily sinking to the level of the commonalty! +A person of breeding choosing the cause of the rout +and rabble! How was he received?”</p> +<p>“Like a king!” laughed Mauville. “A vast concourse +of people assembled before the river when he +embarked on the ‘Natchez’ for St. Louis.”</p> +<p>Muttering something about “<i>bourgeoisie!––épicier!</i>” +the nobleman partook of the liquid consolation +before him, which seemed to brighten his spirits.</p> +<p>“If my doctors could see me now! Dolts! Quacks!”</p> +<p>“It’s a good joke on them,” said Mauville, ironically.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it? They forbid me touching stimulants. +Said they would be fatal! Impostors! Frauds! They +haven’t killed me yet, have they?”</p> +<p>“If so, you are a most agreeable and amiable ghost,” +returned Mauville.</p> +<p>“An amiable ghost!” cackled the old man. “Ha! +Ha! you must have your joke! But don’t let me have +such a ghastly one again. I don’t like”––in a lower +tone––“jests about the spirits of the other world.”</p> +<p>“What! A well-seasoned materialist like you!”</p> +<p>“An idle prejudice!” answered the marquis. “Only +when you compared me to a ghost”––in a half whisper––“it +seemed as though I were one, a ghost of myself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +looking back through years of pleasure––years of +pleasure!”</p> +<p>“A pleasant perspective such memories make, I am +sure,” observed the land baron.</p> +<p>“Memories,” repeated the marquis, wagging his +head. “Existence is first a memory and then a blank. +But you have been absent from New Orleans, Monsieur?”</p> +<p>“I have been north to look after certain properties +left me by a distant relative––peace to his ashes!”</p> +<p>“Only on business?” leered the marquis. “No affair +of the heart? You know the saying: ‘Love +makes time pass––’”</p> +<p>“‘And time makes love pass,’” laughed Mauville, +somewhat unnaturally, his cynicism fraught with a +twinge. “Nothing of the kind, I assure you! But +you, Marquis, are not the only exile.”</p> +<p>The nobleman raised his brows interrogatively.</p> +<p>“You fled from France; I fled from the ancestral +manor. The tenants claimed the farms were theirs. +I attempted to turn them out and––they turned me +out! I might as well have inherited a hornet’s nest. +It was a legacy-of hate! The old patroon must have +chuckled in his grave! One night they called with +the intention of hanging me.”</p> +<p>“My dear sir, I congratulate you!” exclaimed the +nobleman enthusiastically.</p> +<p>“Thanks!” Dryly.</p> +<p>“It is the test of gentility. They only hang or cut +off the heads of people of distinction nowadays.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span></div> +<p>“Gad! then I came near joining the ranks of the +well-born angels. But for an accident I should now +be a cherub of quality.”</p> +<p>“And how, Monsieur, did you escape such a felicitous +fate?”</p> +<p>The land baron’s face clouded. “Through a stranger––a +Frenchman––a silent, taciturn fellow––more or +less an adventurer, I take it. He called himself Saint-Prosper––”</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper!”</p> +<p>The marquis gazed at Mauville with amazement +and incredulity. He might even have flushed or +turned pale, but such a possible exhibition of emotion +was lost beneath an artificial bloom, painted by his +valet. His eyes, however, gleamed like candles in a +death’s head.</p> +<p>“This Saint-Prosper you met was a soldier?” he +asked, and his voice trembled. “Ernest Saint-Prosper?”</p> +<p>“Yes; he was a soldier; served in Africa, I believe. +You knew him?” Turning to the marquis in surprise.</p> +<p>“Knew him! He was my ward, the rascal!” cried +the other violently. “He was, but now––ingrate!––traitor!––better +if he were dead!”</p> +<p>“You speak bitterly, Monsieur le Marquis?” said +the patroon curiously.</p> +<p>“Bitterly!––after his conduct!––he is no longer anything +to me! He is dead to me––dead!”</p> +<p>“How did he deviate from the line of duty?” asked +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span> +Mauville, with increasing interest, and an eagerness +his light manner did not disguise. “A sin of omission +or commission?”</p> +<p>“Eh? What?” mumbled the old nobleman, staring +at his questioner, and, on a sudden, becoming taciturn. +“A family affair!” he added finally, with dignity. +“Not worth repeating! But what was he doing +there?”</p> +<p>“He had joined a strolling band of players,” said +the other, concealing his disappointment as best he +might at his companion’s evasive reply.</p> +<p>“A Saint-Prosper become an actor!” shouted the +marquis, his anger again breaking forth. “Has he +not already dragged an honored name in the dust? +A stroller! A player!” The marquis fairly gasped +at the enormity of the offense; for a moment he was +speechless, and then asked feebly: “What caused him +to take such a humiliating step?”</p> +<p>“He is playing the hero of a romance,” said the +land baron, moodily. “I confess he has excellent +taste, though! The figure of a Juno––eyes like stars +on an August night––features proud as Diana––the +voice of a siren––in a word, picture to yourself your +fairest conquest, Monsieur le Marquis, and you will +have a worthy counterpart of this rose of the wilderness!”</p> +<p>“My fairest conquest!” piped the listener. With +lack-luster eyes he remained motionless like a traveler +in the desert who gazes upon a mirage. “You have +described her well. The features of Diana! It was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span> +at a revival of Vanbrugh’s ‘Relapse’ I first met her, +dressed after the fashion of the Countess of Ossory. +Who would not worship before the figures of Lely?”</p> +<p>He half closed his eyes, as though gazing in fancy +upon the glossy draperies and rosy flesh of those voluptuous +court beauties.</p> +<p>“The wooing, begun in the wings, ended in an ivy-covered +villa––a retired nook––solitary walks by day––nightingales +and moonshine by night. It was a +pleasing romance while it lasted, but joy palls on one. +Nature abhors sameness. The heart is like Mother +Earth––ever varying. I wearied of this surfeit of +Paradise and––left her!”</p> +<p>“A mere incident in an eventful life,” said his companion, +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“Yes; only an incident!” repeated the marquis. +“Only an incident! I had almost forgotten it, but +your conversation about players and your description +of the actress brought it to mind. It had quite passed +away; it had quite passed away! But the cards, Monsieur +Mauville; the cards!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_AT_THE_RACES' id='CHAPTER_III_AT_THE_RACES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>AT THE RACES</h3> +</div> +<p>For several days, after rehearsals were over, the +strollers were free to amuse themselves as they +pleased. Their engagement at the theater did not +begin for about a week, and meanwhile they managed +to combine recreation with labor in nearly equal +proportions. Assiduously they devoted themselves to +a round of drives and rambles: through pastures and +wood-land to Carrolton; along the shell road to Lake +Pontchartrain; to Biloxi, the first settlement of the +French; and to the battle grounds, once known as the +plains of Chalmette, where volunteer soldiers were +now encamped, awaiting orders to go to the front in +the Mexican campaign. For those who craved greater +excitement, the three race-courses––the Louisiana, the +Metairie and the Carrolton offered stimulating diversion.</p> +<p>Within sight of the Metairie were the old dueling +grounds, under the oaks, where, it is related, on one +Sunday in ’39 ten duels occurred; where the contestants +frequently fought on horseback with sabers; and, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +where the cowherds, says a chronicler, became so accustomed +to seeing honor satisfied in this manner +that they paid little attention to these meetings, pursuing +their own humble duties, indifferent to the follies +of fashionable society. The fencing schools flourished––what +memories cluster around that odd, +strange master of the blade, Spedella, a melancholy +enigma of a man, whose art embodied much of the +finest shading and phrasing peculiar to himself; from +whom even many of Bonaparte’s discarded veterans +were not above acquiring new technique and temperament! +Men in those days were most punctilious +about reputation, but permitted a sufficiently wide +latitude in its interpretation not to hamper themselves +or seriously interfere with their desires or pleasures. +Thus, virtue did not become a burden, nor honor a +millstone. Both, like epaulets or tassels, were worn +lightly and befittingly.</p> +<p>Shortly after the players’ arrival began the celebrated +Leduc matches, attracting noted men and +women from all over the South. The hotels were +crowded, the lodging-houses filled, while many of the +large homes hospitably opened their doors to visiting +friends. The afternoons found the city almost deserted; +the bartenders discontentedly smoked in solitude; +the legion of waiters in the hotels and resorts +became reduced to a thinly scattered array; while +even the street venders had “folded their tents” and +silently stolen to the races. On one such memorable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +occasion most of the members of Barnes’ company repaired +to the Metairie.</p> +<p>Below the grand stand, brilliant with color, strutted +the dandies attending to their bets; above they +played a winning or losing game with the fair sex. +Intrigue and love-making were the order of the hour, +and these daughters of the South beguiled time––and +mortals!––in a heyday of pleasure. In that mixed +gathering burly cotton planters from the country +rubbed elbows with aristocratic creoles, whose attire +was distinguishable by enormous ruffles and light +boots of cloth. The professional follower of these +events, the importunate tout, also mingled with the +crowd, plainly in evidence by the pronounced character +of his dress, the size of his diamond studs or cravat +pin, and the massive dimensions of his finger +rings. No paltry, scrubby track cadger was this resplendent +gentleman, but a picturesque rogue, with +impudence as pronounced as his jewels!</p> +<p>Surrounded by a bevy of admirers, Susan, sprightly +and sparkling, was an example of that “frippery one +of her sex is made up with, a pasticcio of gauzes, pins +and ribbons that go to compound that multifarious +thing, a well-dressed woman.” Ever ready with a +quick retort, she bestowed her favors generously, to +the evident discomfiture of a young officer in her retinue +whom she had met several days before, and who, +ever since, had coveted a full harvest of smiles, liking +not a little the first sample he had gathered. However, +it was not Susan’s way to entrust herself fully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span> +to any one; it was all very interesting to play one +against another; to intercept angry gleams; to hold in +check clashing suitors––this was exciting and diverting––but +she exercised care not to transgress +those bounds where she ceased to be mistress of the +situation. Perhaps her limits in coquetry were further +set than most women would have ventured to +place them, but without this temerity and daring, +the pastime would have lost its charm for her. She +might play with edged tools, but she also knew how +to use them.</p> +<p>Near her was seated Kate, indolent as of yore, now +watching her sister with an indulgent, enigmatic expression, +anon permitting a scornful glance to stray +toward Adonis, who, for his part, had eyes only for +his companion, a distinct change from country hoidens, +tavern demoiselles and dainty wenches, with their +rough hands and rosy cheeks. This lady’s hands +were like milk; her cheeks, ivory, and Adonis +in bestowing his attentions upon her, had a two-fold +purpose: to return tit for tat for Kate’s flaunting +ways, and to gratify his own ever-fleeting fancy.</p> +<p>In a box, half the length of the grand stand removed, +some distance back and to the left of Susan’s +gay party, Constance, Mrs. Adams and the soldier +were also observers of this scene of animation.</p> +<p>Since the manager’s successful flight from the landlord +and the constables, the relations of the young +girl and Saint-Prosper had undergone little change. +At first, it is true, with the memory of the wild ride +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +to the river fresh in her mind, and the more or less +disturbing recollections of that strange, dark night, +a certain reticence had marked her manner toward +the soldier; but, as time went by, this touch of reserve +wore off, and was succeeded by her usual frankness +or gaiety. In her eyes appeared, at times, a new +thoughtfulness, but for no longer period than the +quick passing of a summer cloud over a sunny +meadow. This half-light of brief conjecture or vague +retrospection only mellowed the depths of her gaze, +and Barnes alone noted and wondered.</p> +<p>But to-day no partial shadows lay under the black, +shading lashes; the exhilarating scene, the rapidly +succeeding events, the turbulence and flutter around +her, were calculated to dispel the most pronounced +abstraction. Beneath a protecting parasol––for the +sunlight shot below the roof at the back and touched +that part of the grand stand––a faint glow warmed +her cheeks, while her eyes shone with the gladness of +the moment. Many of the dandies, regarding her +with marked persistency, asked who she was, and +none knew, until finally Editor-Rhymster Straws was +appealed to. Straws, informed on all matters, was +able to satisfy his questioners.</p> +<p>“She is an actress,” said Straws. “So we are told. +We shall find out next week. She is a beauty. We +can tell that now.”</p> +<p>“You’re right, Straws!” exclaimed a pitch-and-toss +youngster. “If she shows as well at the wire––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span></div> +<p>“You’d take a long chance on her winning?” +laughed the philosopher.</p> +<p>“I’ll play you odds on it!” cried the juvenile. “Four +to one, damme! I’ll risk that on her eyes.”</p> +<p>“Four to one on a lady’s eyes, child! Say forty to +one, and take the hazard of the die.”</p> +<p>Standing near the rhymster, story-writer and journalist, +was a tall young man, dressed in creole fashion. +He followed the glances of Straws’ questioners +and a pallor overspread his dark complexion as he +looked at the object of their attention.</p> +<p>“The stroller!” he exclaimed half audibly. “Her +counterpart doesn’t exist.”</p> +<p>He stepped back where he could see her more +plainly. In that sea of faces, her features alone shone +before him, clearly, insistently.</p> +<p>“Do you know her, Mr. Mauville?” asked the rhymster, +observing that steadfast glance.</p> +<p>“Know her?” repeated the land baron, starting. +“Oh, I’ve seen her act.”</p> +<p>“Tip me off her points and I’ll tip my readers.”</p> +<p>“She is going to play here then?” said the patroon.</p> +<p>“Yes. What is she like? Does tragedy or comedy +favor her most? You see,” he added apologetically, +“when people begin to talk about anybody, we +Grubstreet hacks thrive on the gossip. It is deplorable”––with +regret––“but small talk and tattle bring +more than a choice lyric or sonnet. And, heaven +help us!”––shaking his head––“what a vendible article +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +a fine scandal is! It sells fast, like goods at a Dutch +auction. Penny a line? More nearly six pence! +If I could only bring myself to deal in such merchandise! +If I were only a good rag picker, instead of a +bad poet!” And Straws walked away, forgetting +the questions he had asked in his own more interesting +cogitations.</p> +<p>Without definite purpose, the patroon, who had +listened with scant attention to the poet, began to +move slowly toward the actress, and at that moment, +the eyes of the soldier, turning to the saddling paddock, +where the horses were being led out, fell upon +the figure drawing near, recognizing in him the heir +to the manor, Edward Mauville. Construing in his +approach a deliberate intention, a flush of quick anger +overspread Saint-Prosper’s face and he glanced at +the girl by his side. But her manner assured him +she had not observed the land baron, for at that moment +she was looking in the opposite direction, endeavoring +to discover Barnes or the others of the company +in the immense throng.</p> +<p>Murmuring some excuse to his unconscious companion +and cutting short the wiry old lady’s reminiscences +of the first public trotting race in 1818, the +soldier left the box, and, moving with some difficulty +through the crowd, met Mauville in the aisle near the +stairway. The latter’s face expressed surprise, not +altogether of an agreeable nature, at the encounter, +but he immediately regained his composure.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span></div> +<p>“Ah, Monsieur Saint-Prosper,” he observed easily, +“I little thought to see you here.”</p> +<p>“Nor I you!” said the other bluntly.</p> +<p>The patroon gazed in seeming carelessness from the +soldier to the young girl. Saint-Prosper’s presence +in New Orleans could be accounted for; he had followed +her from the Shadengo Valley across the continent; +the drive begun at the country inn––he looking +down from the dormer window to witness the start––had +been a long one; very different from his own +brief flight, with its wretched end. These thoughts +coursed rapidly through the land baron’s brain; her +appearance rekindled the ashes of the past; the fire +in his breast flamed from his eyes, but otherwise he +made no display of feeling. He glanced out upon +the many faces below them, bowing to one woman +and smiling at another.</p> +<p>“Oh, I couldn’t stand a winter in the North,” resumed +the patroon, turning once more to the soldier. +“Although the barn-burners promised to make it +warm for me!”</p> +<p>Offering no reply to this sally, Saint-Prosper’s gaze +continued to rest coldly and expectantly upon the +other. Goaded by that arbitrary regard, an implied +barrier between him and the young girl, the land baron +sought to press forward; his glittering eyes met the +other’s; the glances they exchanged were like the +thrust and parry of swords. Without wishing to address +the actress––and thereby risk a public rebuff––it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +was, nevertheless, impossible for the hot-blooded +Southerner to submit to peremptory restraint. Who +had made the soldier his taskmaster? He read Saint-Prosper’s +purpose and was not slow to retaliate.</p> +<p>“If I am not mistaken, yonder is our divinity of +the lane,” said the patroon softly. “Permit me.” +And he strove to pass.</p> +<p>The soldier did not move.</p> +<p>“You are blocking my way, Monsieur,” continued +the other, sharply.</p> +<p>“Not if it lies the other way.”</p> +<p>“This way, or that way, how does it concern you?” +retorted the land baron.</p> +<p>“If you seek further to annoy a lady whom you have +already sufficiently wronged, it is any man’s concern.”</p> +<p>“Especially if he has followed her across the country,” +sneered Mauville. “Besides, since when have +actresses become so chary of their favors?” In his +anger the land baron threw out intimations he would +have challenged from other lips. “Has the stage then +become a holy convent?”</p> +<p>“You stamped yourself a scoundrel some time ago,” +said the soldier slowly, as though weighing each word, +“and now show yourself a coward when you malign +a young girl, without father, brother––”</p> +<p>“Or lover!” interrupted the land baron. “Perhaps, +however, you were only traveling to see the country! +A grand tour, enlivened with studies of human nature, +as well as glimpses of scenery!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></div> +<p>“Have you anything further with me?” interjected +Saint-Prosper, curtly.</p> +<p>The patroon’s blood coursed, burning, through his +veins; the other’s contemptuous manner stung him +more fiercely than language.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he said, meaningly, his eyes challenging +Saint-Prosper’s. “Have you been at Spedella’s fencing +rooms? Are you in practice?”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper hesitated a moment and the land +baron’s face fell. Was it possible the other would +refuse to meet him? But he would not let him off +easily; there were ways to force––and suddenly the +words of the marquis recurring to him, he surveyed +the soldier, disdainfully.</p> +<p>“Gad! you must come of a family of cowards and +traitors! But you shall fight or––the public becomes +arbiter!” And he half raised his arm threateningly.</p> +<p>The soldier’s tanned cheek was now as pale as a +moment before it had been flushed; his mouth set resolutely, +as though fighting back some weakness. +With lowering brows and darkening glance he regarded +the land baron.</p> +<p>“I was thinking,” he said at length, with an effort, +“that if I killed you, people would want to know the +reason.”</p> +<p>The patroon laughed. “How solicitous you are for +her welfare––and mine! Do you then measure skill +only by inches? If so, I confess you would stand a +fair chance of despatching me. But your address? +The St. Charles, I presume.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +The soldier nodded curtly, and, having accomplished +his purpose, Mauville had turned to leave, +when loud voices, in a front box near the right aisle, +attracted general attention from those occupying that +part of the grand stand. The young officer who had +accompanied Susan to the races was angrily confronting +a thick-set man, the latest recruit to her corps of +willing captives. The lad had assumed the arduous +task of guarding the object of his fancy from all +comers, simply because she had been kind. And why +should she not have been?––he was only a boy––she +was old enough to be––well, an adviser! When, after +a brief but pointed altercation, he flung himself away +with a last reproachful look in the direction of his +enslaver, Susan looked hurt. That was her reward +for being nice to a child!</p> +<p>“A fractious young cub!” said the thick-set man, +complacently.</p> +<p>“Well, I like cubs better than bears!” retorted +Susan, pointedly.</p> +<p>Not long, however, could the interest of the spectators +be diverted from the amusement of the day +and soon all eyes were drawn once more to the track +where the horses’ hoofs resounded with exciting patter, +as they struggled toward the wire, urged by the +stimulating voices of the jockeys.</p> +<p>But even when Leduc won the race, beating the best +heat on record; when the ladies in the grand stand +arose in a body, like a thousand butterflies, disturbed +by a sudden footfall in a sunlit field; when the jockey +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +became the hero of the hour; when the small boys +outside nearly fell from the trees in their exuberance +of ecstasy, and the men threw their hats in the air +and shouted themselves hoarse––even these exhilarating +circumstances failed to reawaken the land baron’s +concern in the scene around him. His efforts at +indifference were chafing his inmost being; the cloak +of <i>insouciance</i> was stifling him; the primeval man was +struggling for expression, that brute-like rage whose +only limits are its own fury and violence.</p> +<p>A quavering voice, near at hand, recalled him to +himself, and turning, he beheld the marquis approaching +with mincing manner, the paint and pigments +cracked by the artificial smiles wreathing his wrinkled +face. In that vast assemblage, amid all the energy, +youth and surfeit of vitality, he seemed like a dried +and crackling leaf, tossed helplessly, which any foot +might crush to dust. The roar of the multitude subsided, +a storm dying in the distance; the ladies sank +in their seats––butterflies settling once more in the +fields––and Leduc, with drooping head, was led to +the paddock, followed by a few fair adorers.</p> +<p>“I placed the winner, Monsieur Mauville,” piped the +marquis. “Though the doctors told me the excitement +would kill me! What folly! Every new sensation +adds a day to life.”</p> +<p>“In your case, certainly, Marquis, for I never saw +you looking younger,” answered the land baron, with +an effort.</p> +<p>“You are too amiable, my dear friend! The ladies +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +would not think so,” he added, mournfully wagging +his head with anile melancholy.</p> +<p>“Nonsense!” protested the other. “With your +spirit, animation––”</p> +<p>“If I thought you were right,” interrupted the delighted +marquis, taking his young friend’s arm, “I +would ask you to present me to the lady over there––the +one you just bowed to.”</p> +<p>“The deuce!” said Mauville to himself. “The marquis +is becoming a bore.”</p> +<p>“You rascal! I saw the smile she gave you,” continued +the other playfully. “And you ran away from +her. What are the young men made of nowadays? +In the old days they were tinder; women sparks. But +who is she?”</p> +<p>“You mean Susan Duran, the actress?”</p> +<p>“An actress!” exclaimed the nobleman. “A charming +creature at any rate!”</p> +<p>“All froth; a bubble!” added Mauville impatiently.</p> +<p>“How entertaining! Any lovers?” leered the nobleman.</p> +<p>“A dozen; a baker’s dozen, for all I know!”</p> +<p>“What is her history?” said the marquis eagerly.</p> +<p>“I never inquired.”</p> +<p>“Sometimes it’s just as well,” murmured the other +vaguely. “How old is she?”</p> +<p>“How can you tell?” answered Mauville.</p> +<p>“In Paris I kept a little book wherein was entered +the <i>passe-parole</i> of every pretty woman; age; lovers +platonic! When a woman became a grandmother, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +put a black mark against her name, for I have always +held,” continued the nobleman, wagging his head, +“that a woman who is a grandmother has no business +to deceive a younger generation of men. But present +me to Miss Susan at once, my dear friend. I am +all impatience to meet her.”</p> +<p>His eagerness permitted no refusal; besides, Mauville +was not in the mood to enjoy the nobleman’s +society, and was but too pleased to turn him over to +the tender care of Susan.</p> +<p>“How do you do, Miss Duran,” he said, having +made his way to her box.</p> +<p>“Where did you drop from?” she asked, in surprise, +giving him her hand.</p> +<p>“The skies,” he returned, with forced lightness.</p> +<p>“A fallen angel!” commented Susan.</p> +<p>“Good! Charming!” cried the marquis, clapping +his withered hands.</p> +<p>“Miss Duran, the Marquis de Ligne has requested +the pleasure of meeting you.”</p> +<p>She flashed a smile at him. He bent over her hand; +held it a moment in his icy grasp.</p> +<p>“The pleasure,” said Susan, prettily, not shirking +the ordeal, “is mine.”</p> +<p>“In which case,” added Mauville, half ironically, +“I will leave you together to enjoy your happiness.”</p> +<p>Eagerly availing himself of the place offered at her +side, soon the marquis was cackling after the manner +of a senile beau of the old school; relating spicy anecdotes +of dames who had long departed this realm of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +scandal; and mingling witticism and wickedness in +one continual flow, until like a panorama another age +was revived in his words––an age when bedizened +women wore patches and their perfumed gallants +wrote verses on the demise of their lap-dogs; when +“their virtue resembled a statesman’s religion, the +Quaker’s word, the gamester’s oath and the great +man’s honor––but to cheat those that trusted them!”</p> +<p>The day’s events, however, were soon over; the city +of pleasure finally capitulated; its people began rapidly +to depart. That sudden movement resembled +the migration of a swarm of bees to form a new colony, +when, if the day be bright, the expedition issues +forth with wondrous rapidity. So this human hive +commenced to empty itself of queens, drones and +workers. It was an outgoing wave of such life and +animation as is apparent in the flight of a swarm of +cell-dwellers, giving out a loud and sharp-toned hum +from the action of their wings as they soar over the +blooming heather and the “bright consummate flowers.” +And these human bees had their passions, too! +their massacres; their tragedies; their “Rival +Queens”; their combats; their sentinels; their dreams +of that Utopian form of government realized in the +communistic society of insects.</p> +<p>“How did you enjoy it, my dear?” asked Barnes, +suddenly reappearing at Constance’s box. “A grand +heat, that! Though I did bet on the wrong horse! +But don’t wait for us, Saint-Prosper. Mrs. Adams +and I will take our time getting through the crowd. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span> +I will see you at the hotel, my dear!” he added, as the +soldier and Constance moved away.</p> +<p>Only the merry home-going remained, and the culmination, +a dinner at Moreau’s, Victor’s, or Miguel’s, +the natural epilogue to the day’s pastime, the tag to +the comedy! In the returning throng were creoles +with sky-blue costumes and palmetto hats; the Lafourche +or Attakapas planter; representatives of the +older régime and the varied newer populace. Superb +equipages mingled in democratic confusion with carts +and wagons; the broken-winded nag and spavined +crowbait––veterans at the bugle call!––pricked up +their ears and kicked up their heels like colts in pasture, +while the delighted darkies thumped their bony +shanks to encourage this brief rejuvenescence.</p> +<p>Those who had lost felt the money well spent; +those who had won would be the more lavish in the +spending. They had simply won a few more pleasures. +“Quick come; quick go!” sang the whirling +wheels. “The niggard in pound and pence is a usurer +in happiness; a miser driving a hard bargain with +pleasure. Better burn the candle at both ends than +not burn it at all! In one case, you get light; in the +other nothing but darkness. Laughter is cheap at +any price. A castle in the air is almost as durable as +Solomon’s temple. How soon––how soon both fade +away!”</p> +<p>Thus ran the song of the wheels before them and +behind them, as the soldier and Constance joined the +desultory fag-end of the procession. On either side +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span> +of the road waved the mournful cypress, draped by +the hoary tillandsia, and from the somber depths of +foliage came the chirp of the tree-crickets and the +note of the swamp owl. Faint music, in measured +rhythm, a foil to disconnected wood-sound, was wafted +from a distant plantation.</p> +<p>“Wait!” said Constance.</p> +<p>He drew in the horses and silently they listened. +Or, was he listening? His glance seemed bent so +moodily––almost!––on space she concluded he was +not. She stole a sidelong look at him.</p> +<p>“A penny for your thoughts!” she said gaily.</p> +<p>He started. “I was thinking how soon I might +leave New Orleans.”</p> +<p>“Leave New Orleans!” she repeated in surprise. +“But I thought you intended staying here. Why +have you changed your mind?”</p> +<p>Did he detect a subtle accent of regret in her voice? +A deep flush mounted to his brow. He bent over her +suddenly, eagerly.</p> +<p>“Would it matter––if I went?”</p> +<p>She drew back at the abruptness of his words.</p> +<p>“How unfair to answer one question with another!” +she said lightly.</p> +<p>A pause fell between them. Perhaps she, too, felt +the sudden repulse of her own answer and the ensuing +constraint. Perhaps some compunction moved her to +add in a voice not entirely steady:</p> +<p>“And so you think––of going back to France?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span></div> +<p>“To France!” he repeated, quickly. “No”––and +stopped.</p> +<p>Looking up, a half-questioning light in her eyes +took flight to his, until suddenly arrested by the hard, +set expression of his features. Abruptly chilled by +she knew not what, her lashes fell. The horses +champed their bits and tugged at the reins, impatient +of the prolonged pause.</p> +<p>“Let us go!” she said in a low, constrained voice.</p> +<p>At her words he turned, the harshness dropping +from his face like a discarded mask; the lines of determination +wavering.</p> +<p>“Let us go!” she said again, without looking up.</p> +<p>He made no motion to obey, until the sound of a +vehicle behind them seemed to break the spell and +mechanically he touched the horses with the whip.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_LEAR_AND_JULIET' id='CHAPTER_IV_LEAR_AND_JULIET'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>LEAR AND JULIET</h3> +</div> +<p>Susan dismissed her admirers at the races with some +difficulty, especially the tenacious marquis, who tenderly +squeezed her hand, saying:</p> +<p>“Were I twenty years younger, I would not thus +be set aside.”</p> +<p>“Fie, Marquis!” she returned. “These other people +are dull, while you are charmingly wicked.”</p> +<p>“You flatter me,” he cackled, detaining her, to the +impatience of the thick-set man who was waiting to +escort the young woman back to town. “But do you +notice the gentleman over there with the medals?”</p> +<p>“The distinguished-looking man?” asked Susan.</p> +<p>“Yes; that is the Count de Propriac. It was he +who was one of the agents of Louis Philippe in the +Spanish double marriage plot. It was arranged the +queen should marry her cousin, and her sister the +son of Louis Philippe. The queen and her cousin +were not expected to have children––but had them, to +spite us all, and Louis Philippe’s projects for the +throne of Spain failed disastrously.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span></div> +<p>“How inconsiderate of the queen! Good afternoon, +marquis! I have been vastly entertained.”</p> +<p>“And I”––kissing her hand––“enamored!” Then, +chuckling: “A week ago my stupid doctors had me +laid out in funereal dignity, and now I am making +love to a fine woman. Pretty pouting lips!”––tapping +her chin playfully––“Like rose-buds! Happy +the lover who shall gather the dew! But we meet +again, Mistress Susan?”</p> +<p>“That will depend upon you, marquis,” answered +Susan, coquettishly, as a thought flashed through her +mind that it would not be unpleasant to be called +“Marquise,” or “Marchioness”––she did not quite +know which would be the proper title. It was nearly +vesper-time with the old nobleman; he seemed but a +procrastinating presence in the evening of mortal life; +a chateau and carriage––</p> +<p>“Then we will meet again,” said the marquis, interrupting +these new-born ambitions.</p> +<p>“In that case you would soon get tired of me,” +laughed Susan.</p> +<p>“Never!” Tenderly. “When may I see you?”</p> +<p>“How importunate you are! Call when you will.”</p> +<p>“But if you are out”––he insisted.</p> +<p>“That will make it the more delightfully uncertain,” +she said gaily.</p> +<p>“So it will!” Rubbing his hands. “Delightfully +uncertain!” he repeated. And he departed with many +protestations, taking no more notice of the thick-set +man than if he were a block of wood.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span></div> +<p>“What an old ape!” growled the latter, viciously, +as the marquis ambled from their stall.</p> +<p>“Do you think so?” answered Susan, tossing her +head. “He has that air of distinction which only +persons of rank and title can command.”</p> +<p>“Distinction!” said the other, who was but a well-to-do +merchant. “I should call it bad manners.”</p> +<p>“Because he never noticed you!” laughed Susan, +spitefully. “But why are we standing here? I believe +you expect to take me home, don’t you?”</p> +<p>Although she chattered like a magpie on the road, he +was silent and sullen, nursing his injured pride and +wounded self-sufficiency. Susan, who was interested +in him for the novel reason she disliked him so heartily, +parted from him with the air of a duchess, and +entered the hotel, holding her head so high that he +swore under his breath as he drove away. And, as a +result of the quarrel with the lad, he would probably +have to risk being “pinked” for this jade! Susan, on +the other hand, was as happy as a lark when she entered +the dining-room of the St. Charles, that great +eating-place and meeting-place of all classes of people.</p> +<p>As she seated herself at a table, a smile lurked +around the corners of her mouth and flickered faintly +upon the waiter who forthwith became a Mercury for +expedition and a prodigal for variety. Her quarrel +on the road with her companion had in nowise interfered +with that appetite which the fresh air and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +lateness of the hour had provoked, nor were her +thoughts of a character to deter from the zest of eating.</p> +<p>From the present to the past was but an instant’s +flight of the mind––thus may the once august years +swiftly and unceremoniously be marshaled by!––and +she dwelt in not unpleasing retrospection on an endless +field of investigation and discovery and the various +experiences which had befallen her in arriving at the +present period of mature knowledge; a proficiency +which converted her chosen researches into an exact +science.</p> +<p>Thus meditating and dining––counting on her fingers +twice over the fair actresses who had become +titled ladies, and enviously disbelieving she would +join that triumphant company––Susan was still seated +at the table some time later when the soldier glanced +in. Imperatively she motioned him to her side and +he obeyed with not entirely concealed reluctance, and +was so preoccupied, she rallied him upon his reserve.</p> +<p>“I believe you and Constance had a quarrel on the +road.” Maliciously. “I hope you were more amiable +than my companion. He hardly spoke a word, +and, when I left him”––her voice sank to a whisper––“I +heard him swear.”</p> +<p>“He pleased you so much earlier in the day that a +duel will probably be the outcome.”</p> +<p>Susan laughed gaily.</p> +<p>“A duel! Then my fortune is made. All the newspapers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +will contain paragraphs. It is too good to be +true.” And she clapped her hands. “When is it to +take place? Tell me about it!”</p> +<p>Then noting his manner, she continued with an assumption +of plaintiveness: “Now you are cross with +me! You think me heartless. Is it my fault? I +care nothing for either of them and I am not to be +blamed if they are so foolish. It might be different +if either had touched my heart.” And she assumed a +coquettish demeanor, while Saint-Prosper coolly +studied her through the wreaths of smoke from his +weed.</p> +<p>“You are wondering what sort of a person I am!” +she continued, merrily, raising her glass of wine with: +“To unrequited passion!”</p> +<p>Her roguish face sparkled as he asked; “Whose?”</p> +<p>She drained the glass and set it down demurely. +“Mine!”</p> +<p>The cigar was suspended; the veil cleared between +them.</p> +<p>“For whom?” he said.</p> +<p>“You!” Offering him the limpid depths of her +blue eyes. “Is my liking returned?”</p> +<p>“Liking? Perhaps!”</p> +<p>“My love?”</p> +<p>“Love? No.” Coldly.</p> +<p>“You do not fear a woman scorned?” Her lips +curved in a smile, displaying her faultless teeth.</p> +<p>“Not when the avenging angel is so charming and +so heartless!” he added satirically.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span></div> +<p>Her lashes veiled the azure orbs.</p> +<p>“You think to disarm her with a compliment? How +well you understand women!” And, as he rose, the +pressure of the hand she gave him at parting was +lingering.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Above in his room, Barnes, with plays and manuscripts +scattered around him, was engaged in writing +in his note and date book, wherein autobiography, +ledger and journal accounts, and such miscellaneous +matter mingled indiscriminately. “To-day she said to +me: ‘I am going to the races with Mr. Saint-Prosper.’ +What did I say? ‘Yes,’ of course. What can there +be in common between Lear and Juliet? Naturally, +she sometimes turns from an old fellow like me––now, +if she were only a slip of a girl again––with her short +frock––her disorder of long ringlets––running and +romping––</p> +<p>“A thousand details pass through my mind, reminiscences +of her girlhood, lightening a lonesome life +like glimmerings of sunshine in a secluded wood; +memories of her mother and the old days when she +played in my New York theater––for Barnes, the +stroller, was once a metropolitan manager! Her +fame had preceded her and every admirer of histrionic +art eagerly awaited her arrival.</p> +<p>“But the temple of art is a lottery. The town that +had welcomed her so wildly now went Elssler-mad. +The gossamer floatings of this French <i>danseuse</i> possessed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span> +everyone. People courted trash and trumpery. +Greatness gave way to triviality. This pitiful condition +preyed upon her. The flame of genius never for +a moment became less dim, but her eyes grew larger, +brighter, more melancholy. Sometimes she would +fall into a painful reverie and I knew too well the subject +of her thoughts. With tender solicitude she +would regard her daughter, thinking, thinking! She +was her only hope, her only joy!</p> +<p>“‘The town wants dancers, not tragedians, Mr. +Barnes,’ she said sadly one day.</p> +<p>“‘Nonsense,’ I replied. ‘The town wants a change +of bill. We will put on a new piece next week.’</p> +<p>“‘It will be but substituting one tragedy for another,’ +she retorted. ‘One misfortune for a different +one! You should import a rival dancer. You are +going down; down hill! I will leave you; perhaps +you will discover your dancer, and your fortune is +made!’</p> +<p>“‘And you? What would you do?’ I demanded. +‘And your child?’</p> +<p>“At this her eyes filled and she could not answer. +‘And now, Madam,’ I said firmly, ‘I refuse once and +for all to permit you to break your contract. Pooh! +The tide will change. Men and women are sometimes +fools; but they are not fools all the time. The +dancer will have had her day. She will twirl her +toes to the empty seats and throw her kisses into unresponsive +space. Our patrons will gradually return; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +they will grow tired of wriggling and twisting, +and look again for a more substantial diet.’</p> +<p>“Matters did, indeed, begin to mend somewhat, +when to bring the whole fabric tumbling down on +our heads, this incomparable woman fell ill.</p> +<p>“‘You see? I have ruined you,’ she said sadly.</p> +<p>“‘I am honored, Madam,’ was all I could reply.</p> +<p>“She placed her hand softly on mine and let her +luminous eyes rest on me.</p> +<p>“‘Dear old friend!’ she murmured.</p> +<p>“Then she closed her eyes and I thought she was +sleeping. Some time elapsed when she again opened +them.</p> +<p>“‘Death will break our contract, Mr. Barnes,’ she +said softly.</p> +<p>“I suppose my hand trembled, for she tightened +her grasp and continued firmly: ‘It is not so terrible, +after all, or would not be, but for one thing.’</p> +<p>“‘You will soon get well, Madam,’ I managed to +stammer.</p> +<p>“‘No! Do you care? It is pleasant to have one +true, kind friend in the world; one who makes a +woman believe again in the nobility of human nature. +My life has been sad as you know. I should not regret +giving it up. Nor should I fear to die. I can not +think that God will be unkind to one who has done her +best; at least, has tried to. Yet there is one thing that +makes me crave for life. My child––what will she do––poor, +motherless, fatherless girl––all alone, all +alone––.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span></div> +<p>“‘Madam, if I may––will you permit me to care +for her? If I might regard her as my child!’</p> +<p>“How tightly she held my hand at that! Her eyes +seemed to blaze with heavenly fire. But let me not +dwell further upon the sad events that led to the end +of her noble career. Something of her life I had +heard; something, I surmised. Unhappy as a woman, +she was majestic as an actress; the fire of her voice +struck every ear; its sweetness had a charm, never to +be forgotten. But only to those who knew her well +were revealed the unvarying truth and simplicity of +her nature. Even as I write, her spirit, tender and +steadfast, seems standing by my side; I feel her eyes +in the darkness of night, and, when the time comes––and +often of late, it has seemed not far––to go from +this mere dressing-room, the earth, into the higher +life––”</p> +<p>A knock at the door rudely dispelled these memories. +For a moment the manager looked startled, as +one abruptly called back to his immediate surroundings; +then the pen fell from his hand, and he pushed +the book from him to the center of the table.</p> +<p>“Come in,” he said.</p> +<p>The door opened and Saint-Prosper entered.</p> +<p>“Am I interrupting you?” asked the soldier, glancing +at the littered table.</p> +<p>“Not at all,” answered the manager, recovering +himself, and settling back in his chair. “Make yourself +at home. You’ll find some cigars on the mantel, +or if you prefer your pipe, there’s a jar of tobacco on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span> +the trunk. Do you find it? I haven’t had time yet +to bring order out of chaos. A manager’s trunks are +like a junk-shop, with everything from a needle to an +anchor.”</p> +<p>Filling his pipe from the receptacle indicated, which +lay among old costumes and wigs, the soldier +seated himself near an open window that looked out +upon a balcony. Through a door at the far end of +the balcony a light streamed from a chandelier within, +playing upon the balustrade. Once the figure of the +young actress stepped for a moment out upon the +balcony; she leaned upon the balustrade, looked across +the city, breathed the perfume of the flowers, and then +quickly vanished.</p> +<p>“Can you spare me a little time to-morrow morning––early––before +rehearsal?” said Saint-Prosper, +finally.</p> +<p>“Yes,” returned the manager, in surprise. “What +is it?”</p> +<p>“A foolish piece of business! The patroon is in +New Orleans.”</p> +<p>Barnes uttered an exclamation of annoyance and +apprehension. “Here! What is he doing here?” he +said. “I thought we had seen the last of him. Has +he followed––Constance?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. We met yesterday at the races.”</p> +<p>“It is strange she did not tell me about it,” remarked +the manager, without endeavoring to conceal +the anxiety this unexpected information afforded +him.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span></div> +<p>“She does not know he is here.” And Saint-Prosper +briefly related the circumstances of his meeting +with the land baron, to which the manager listened +attentively.</p> +<p>“And so she must be dragged into it?” exclaimed +Barnes at length, resentfully. “Her name must become +public property in a broil?”</p> +<p>A frown darkened the soldier’s face, but he replied +quickly: “Need any one know? The land baron has +not been seen with her.”</p> +<p>“No; but you have,” returned the manager, suddenly +pausing and looking down at the other.</p> +<p>The silence between them lasted for some moments. +Barnes stood with his hands in his pockets, his face +downcast and moody. He felt that events were happening +over which he had no control, but which were +shaping the destiny of all he loved best. In the dim +light the rugged lines of his countenance were strongly, +decisively outlined. Turning to the trunk, with a +quick, nervous step, he filled a pipe himself. After +he had lighted it, he once more contemplated the soldier, +thinking deeply, reviewing the past.</p> +<p>“We have been together for some time, Mr. Saint-Prosper,” +he said, at length. “We have gone through +fair and rough weather, and”––he paused a moment +before continuing––“should understand each other. +You asked me when you came in if you were interrupting +me, and I told you that you were not. As +a matter of fact, you were.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span></div> +<p>And, walking to a table, Barnes took up the notebook.</p> +<p>“A garrulous, single man must tell his little secrets +somewhere,” he continued. “Will you look at the +pages I was writing when you came in?”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper took the book, and, while he was +turning the leaves that were hardly dry, the manager +relighted his pipe, over which he glanced nervously +from time to time at his companion. Finally, when +the soldier had finished the perusal of the diary, +Barnes turned to him expectantly, but the other silently +laid down the little volume, and, after waiting some +moments for him to speak, the manager, as though +disappointed by his reticence, breathed a sigh. Then, +clearing his throat, in a voice somewhat husky, he +went on, simply:</p> +<p>“You will understand now why she is so much to +me. I have always wanted to keep her from the +world as much as possible; to have her world, her art! +I have tried to keep the shadow of the past from her. +An actress has a pretty face; and there’s a hue and +cry! It is not notoriety she seeks, but fame; fame, +bright and pure as sunlight!”</p> +<p>“The land baron will not cry abroad the cause of +the meeting,” said the soldier, gravely. “These fashionable +affairs need but flimsy pretexts.”</p> +<p>“Flimsy pretexts!” cried Barnes. “A woman’s reputation––her +good name––”</p> +<p>“Hush!” said Saint-Prosper.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></div> +<p>From the door at the far end of the balcony Constance +had again emerged and now approached +their room. A flowing gown of an early period surrounded +her like a cloud as she paused before Barnes’ +apartment. At the throat a deep-falling collar was +closely fastened; the sleeves were gathered in at +elbow and wrist, and from a “coverchief,” set upon the +dusky hair, fell a long veil of ample proportions. +With the light shimmering on the folds of her raiment, +she stood looking through the open door, regarding the +manager and Saint-Prosper.</p> +<p>“Oh, you are not alone?” she said to the former. +“You look as though you were talking together very +seriously?” she added, turning to Saint-Prosper.</p> +<p>“Nothing of consequence, Miss Carew!” he replied, +flushing beneath her clear eyes.</p> +<p>“Only about some scenery!” interposed the manager, +so hastily that she glanced, slightly surprised, +from the one to the other. “Some sets that are––”</p> +<p>“‘Flimsy pretexts!’ I caught that much! I only +wanted to ask you about this costume. Is it appropriate, +do you think, for the part we were talking about?” +Turning around slowly, with arms half-raised.</p> +<p>“Charming, my dear; charming!” he answered, enthusiastically.</p> +<p>“If I only thought that an unbiased criticism!” +Her dark lashes lowered; she looked toward the soldier, +half shyly, half mockingly. “What do you think, +Mr. Saint-Prosper?”</p> +<p>At that moment her girlish grace was irresistible.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span></div> +<p>“I think it is not only appropriate, but”––looking +at her and not at the costume––“beautiful!”</p> +<p>A gleam like laughter came into her eyes; nor did +she shun his kindling gaze.</p> +<p>“Thank you!” she said, and courtesied low.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>That same evening Spedella’s fencing rooms were +fairly thronged with devotees of the ancient art of +puncturing. The master of the place was a tall Italian, +lank and lean, all bone and muscle, with a Don +Quixote visage, barring a certain villainous expression +of the eyes, irreconcilable with the chivalrous +knight-errant of distressed Dulcineas. But every man +with a bad eye is not necessarily a rascallion, and +Spedella, perhaps, was better than he looked. With +a most melancholy glance he was now watching two +combatants, novices in feats of arms. Dejection sat +upon his brow; he yawned over a clumsy <i>feinte seconde</i>, +when his sinister eyes fell on a figure that had just +entered the hall. Immediately his melancholy vanished, +and he advanced to meet the newcomer with +stately cordiality.</p> +<p>“Well met, Mr. Mauville,” he exclaimed, extending +a bony hand that had fingers like the grip of death. +“What good fortune brought you here?”</p> +<p>“An ill wind, Spedella, rather!”</p> +<p>“It’s like a breath of the old days to see you; the old +days before you began your wanderings!”</p> +<p>“Get the foils, Spedella; I’ll have a bout with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +master. Gad, you’re as ill-looking as ever! It’s some +time since I’ve touched a foil. I want to test myself. +I have a little affair to-morrow. Hark you, my old +brigand; I wish to see if I can kill him!”</p> +<p>“A lad of spirit!” chuckled the master, a gleam of +interest illumining his cavernous eyes. “Young!––frisky!––an +affair of honor to-day is but nursery sport. +Two children with tin swords are more diverting. +The world goes backward! A counter-jumper thinks +he can lunge, because he is spry, that he can touch a +button because he sells them. And I am wasting my +genius with ribbon-venders––”</p> +<p>“I see the wolf growls as much as ever!” said the +patroon. “Here’s a quiet corner. Come; tell me what +I’ve forgotten.”</p> +<p>“Good!” returned the other. “You can tell me +about your travels as we fence.”</p> +<p>“Hang my travels!” replied the patroon, as they +leisurely engaged. “They’ve brought me nothing but +regrets.”</p> +<p>“<i>Feinte flanconnade</i>––well done!” murmured Spedella. +“So it was not honey you brought home from +your rambles? <i>Feinte seconde</i> and decisive tierce! +It’s long since I’ve touched a good blade. These +glove-sellers and perfume-dealers––”</p> +<p>“You are bitter against trade, my bravo,” remarked +the land baron.</p> +<p>“I was spoiling with languor when you came. Not +bad, that feint––but dangerous, because of the possibility +of misjudging the attack. Learn the paroles he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +affects to-morrow by quick, simple thrusts, and then +you will know what feints to attack him with. Time +in octave––you quitted the blade in a dangerous position. +Cluck; cluck, my game cock! Intemperance +has befogged your judgment; high-living has dimmed +your––”</p> +<p>“You have it!” laughed the land baron.</p> +<p>The button of his foil touched the old bravo’s breast; +the steel was bent like a bow.</p> +<p>Spedella forgot his English and swore in soft and +liquid Italian. “I looked around to see how those +ribbon-venders were getting on,” he said after this +euphonious, foreign prelude. “They pay me; I have +to keep an eye on them. All the same,” he added, +generously, “there isn’t another man in New Orleans +could have stopped that stroke––except myself!”</p> +<p>“Will I do––for to-morrow?” asked the patroon, +moodily.</p> +<p>The master cocked his head quizzically; his deep-set +eyes were soft and friendly.</p> +<p>“The devil’s with him, if you don’t put your spur in +him, my bantam!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_MEETING_BENEATH_THE_OAKS' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_MEETING_BENEATH_THE_OAKS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS</h3> +</div> +<p>The mist was lifting from the earth and nature lay +wrapped in the rosy peace of daybreak as the sun’s +shafts of gold pierced the foliage, illumining the historic +ground of the Oaks. Like shining lances, they +gleamed from the interstices in the leafy roof to the +dew-bejeweled sward. From this stronghold of glistening +arms, however, the surrounding country +stretched tranquil and serene. Upon a neighboring +bank sheep were browsing; in the distance cow-bells +tinkled, and the drowsy cowherds followed the cattle, +faithful as the shepherds who tended their flocks on +the Judean hills.</p> +<p>Beneath the spreading trees were assembled a group +of persons variously disposed. A little dapper man +was bending over a case of instruments, as merry a +soul as ever adjusted a ligature or sewed a wound. +Be-ribboned and be-medaled, the Count de Propriac, +acting for the land baron, and Barnes, who had accompanied +the soldier, were consulting over the weapons, +a magnificent pair of rapiers with costly steel guards, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +set with initials and a coronet. Member of an ancient +society of France which yet sought to perpetuate the +memory of the old judicial combat and the more modern +duel, the count was one of those persons who think +they are in honor bound to bear a challenge, without +questioning the cause, or asking the “color of a reason.”</p> +<p>“A superb pair of weapons, count!” observed the +doctor, rising.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the person addressed, holding the blade +so that the sunlight ran along the steel; “the same +Jacques Legres and I fought with!”</p> +<p>Here the count smiled in a melancholy manner, +which left no doubt regarding the fate of the hapless +Jacques. But after a moment he supplemented this +indubitable assurance by adding specifically:</p> +<p>“The left artery of the left lung!”</p> +<p>“Bless my soul!” commented the medical man. +“But what is this head in gold beneath the guard?”</p> +<p>“Saint Michael, the patron saint of duelists!” answered +the count.</p> +<p>“Patron!” exclaimed the doctor. “Well, all I have +to say is, it is a saintless business for Michael.”</p> +<p>The count laughed and turned away with a business-like +air.</p> +<p>“Are you ready, gentlemen?”</p> +<p>At his words the contestants immediately took their +positions. The land baron, lithe and supple, presented +a picture of insolent and conscious pride, his glance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +lighted by disdain, but smoldering with fiercer passions +as he examined and tested his blade.</p> +<p>“Engage!” exclaimed the count.</p> +<p>With ill-concealed eagerness, Mauville began a vigorous, +although guarded attack, as if asserting his +supremacy, and at the same time testing his man. +The buzzing switch of the steel became angrier; the +weapons glinted and gleamed, intertwining silently +and separating with a swish. The patroon’s features +glowed; his movements became quicker, and, executing +a rapid parry, he lunged with a thrust so stealthy +his blade was beaten down only as it touched the +soldier’s breast.</p> +<p>Mauville smiled, but Barnes groaned inwardly, feeling +his courage and confidence fast oozing from him. +Neither he nor the other spectators doubted the result. +Strength would count but little against such +agility; the land baron was an incomparable swordsman.</p> +<p>“Gad!” muttered the count to himself. “It promises +to be short and sweet.”</p> +<p>As if to demonstrate the verity of this assertion, +Mauville suddenly followed his momentary advantage +with a dangerous lunge from below. Involuntarily +Barnes looked away, but his wandering attention +was immediately recalled. From the lips of the +land baron burst an exclamation of mingled pain +and anger. Saint-Prosper had not only parried the +thrust, but his own blade, by a rapid <i>riposte</i>, had +grazed the shoulder of his foe.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span></div> +<p>Nor was the manager’s surprise greater than that of +the count. The latter, amazed this unusual strategem +should have failed when directed by a wrist as trained +and an eye as quick as Mauville’s, now interposed.</p> +<p>“Enough!” he exclaimed, separating the contestants. +“Demme! it was superb. Honor has been satisfied.”</p> +<p>“It is nothing!” cried the land baron, fiercely. “His +blade hardly touched me.” In his exasperation and +disappointment over his failure, Mauville was scarcely +conscious of his wound. “I tell you it is nothing,” he +repeated.</p> +<p>“What do you say, Mr. Saint-Prosper?” asked the +count.</p> +<p>“I am satisfied,” returned the young man, coldly.</p> +<p>“But I’m not!” reiterated the patroon, restraining +himself with difficulty. “It was understood we should +continue until <i>both</i> were willing to stop!”</p> +<p>“No,” interrupted the count, suavely; “it was understood +you should continue, if both were willing!”</p> +<p>“And you’re not!” exclaimed the land baron, wheeling +on Saint-Prosper. “Did you leave the army because––”</p> +<p>“Gentlemen, gentlemen! let us observe the proprieties!” +expostulated the count. “Is it your intention, +sir”––to Saint-Prosper––“not to grant my principal’s +request?”</p> +<p>A fierce new anger gleamed from the soldier’s eyes, +completely transforming his expression and bearing. +His glance quickly swept from the count to Mauville +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +at the studied insult of the latter’s words; on his cheek +burned a dark red spot.</p> +<p>“Let it go on!”</p> +<p>The count stepped nimbly from his position between +the two men. Again the swords crossed. The count’s +glance bent itself more closely on the figure of the +soldier; noting now how superbly poised was his body; +what reserves of strength were suggested by the white, +muscular arm! His wrist moved like a machine, +lightly brushing aside the thrusts. Had it been but accident +that Mauville’s unlooked-for expedient had +failed?</p> +<p>“The devil!” thought the count, watching the soldier. +“Here is a fellow who has deceived us all.”</p> +<p>But the land baron’s zest only appeared to grow +in proportion to the resistance he encountered; the +lust for fighting increased with the music of the blades. +For some moments he feinted and lunged, seeking +an opening, however slight. Again he appeared bent +upon forcing a quick conclusion, for suddenly with a +rush he sought to break over Saint-Prosper’s guard, +and succeeded in wounding the other slightly in the +forehead. Now sure of his man, Mauville sprang +at him savagely.</p> +<p>But dashing the blood from his eyes with his free +hand, and without giving way, Saint-Prosper met the +assault with a wrist of iron, and the land baron failed +to profit by what had seemed a certain advantage. +The wound had the effect of making the soldier more +cautious, and eye, foot and hand were equally true. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +Mauville was breathing heavily from his exertions, +but the appearance of both men, the supple movements +of the one contrasting with the perfect precision of +the other, would have delighted those members of +the count’s society, who regarded these matches as +leading to a renaissance of chivalry.</p> +<p>In his fury that his chance had slipped away, +after wounding, and, as he supposed, blinding his +opponent, Mauville, throwing prudence to the winds, +recklessly attempted to repeat his rash expedient, +and this time the steel of his antagonist gleamed like +quicksilver, passing beneath his arm and inflicting a +slight flesh wound. Something resembling a look of +apprehension crossed the land baron’s face. “I have +underestimated him!” he thought. “The next stroke +will be driven nearer home.”</p> +<p>He felt no fear, however; only mute, helpless rage. +In the soldier’s hand the dainty weapon was a thing +of marvelous cunning; his vastly superior strength +made him practically tireless in this play. Not only +tireless; he suddenly accelerated the tempo of the exercise, +but behind this unexpected, even passionate, +awakening, the spectators felt an unvarying accuracy, +a steely coldness of purpose. The blades clicked +faster; they met and parted more viciously; the hard +light in Saint-Prosper’s eyes grew brighter as he +slowly thrust back his antagonist.</p> +<p>Mauville became aware his own vigor was slowly +failing him; instead of pressing the other he was now +obliged to defend himself. He strove to throw off +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +the lethargy irresistibly stealing over him; to shake +the leaden movements from his limbs. He vainly endeavored +to penetrate the mist falling before his eyes +and to overcome the dizziness that made his foeman +seem like a figure in a dream. Was it through loss of +blood, or weariness, or both?––but he was cognizant +his thrusts had lost force, his plunges vitality, and +that even an element of chance prevailed in his parries. +But he uttered no sound. When would that mist become +dark, and the golden day fuse into inky night?</p> +<p>Before the mist totally eclipsed his sight he determined +to make one more supreme effort, and again +sprang forward, but was driven back with ease. The +knowledge that he was continuing a futile struggle +smote him to the soul. Gladly would he have welcomed +the fatal thrust, if first he could have sent his +blade through that breast which so far had been impervious +to his efforts. Now the scene went round +and round; the golden day became crimson, scarlet; +then gray, leaden, somber. Incautiously he bent his +arm to counter an imaginary lunge, and his antagonist +thrust out his rapier like a thing of life, transfixing +Mauville’s sword arm. He stood his ground bravely +for a moment, playing feebly into space, expecting +the fatal stroke! When would it come? Then the +slate-colored hues were swallowed in a black cloud. +But while his mind passed into unconsciousness, his +breast was openly presented to his antagonist, and +even the count shuddered.</p> +<p>With his blade at guard, Saint-Prosper remained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +motionless; the land baron staggered feebly and then +sank softly to the earth. That fatal look, the expression +of a duelist, vanished from the soldier’s face, +and, allowing the point of his weapon to drop to the +ground, he surveyed his prostrate antagonist.</p> +<p>“Done like a gentleman!” cried the count, breathing +more freely. “You had him at your mercy, sir”––to +Saint-Prosper––“and spared him.”</p> +<p>A cold glance was the soldier’s only response, as +without a word he turned brusquely away. Meanwhile +the doctor, hastening to Mauville’s side, opened +his shirt.</p> +<p>“He is badly hurt?” asked Barnes, anxiously, of the +surgeon.</p> +<p>“No; only fainted from loss of blood,” replied that +gentleman, cheerfully. “He will be around again in +a day or two.”</p> +<p>The count put away his blades as carefully as a +mother would deposit her babe in the cradle.</p> +<p>“Another page of history, my chicks!” he observed. +“Worthy of the song of Pindar!”</p> +<p>“Why not Straws or Phazma?” queried the surgeon, +looking up from his task.</p> +<p>“Would you have the press take up the affair? +There are already people who talk of abolishing dueling. +When they do they will abolish reputation with +it. And what’s a gentleman got but his honor––demme!” +And the royal emissary carefully brushed +a crimson stain from the bespattered saint.</p> +<p>By this time the land baron had regained consciousness, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +and, his wounds temporarily bandaged, walked, +with the assistance of the count, to his carriage. As +they were about to drive away the sound of a vehicle +was heard drawing near, and soon it appeared followed +by another equipage. Both stopped at the +confines of the Oaks and the friends of the thick-set +man––Susan’s admirer––and the young lad, on whom +she had smiled, alighted.</p> +<p>“Ha!” exclaimed the doctor, who had accompanied +the count and his companion to the carriage. “Number +two!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” laughed the count, as he leaned back against +the soft cushions, “it promises to be a busy day at the +Oaks! Really”––as the equipage rolled on––“New +Orleans is fast becoming a civilized center––demme!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_A_BLOT_IN_THE_SCUTCHEON' id='CHAPTER_VI_A_BLOT_IN_THE_SCUTCHEON'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>A BLOT IN THE ’SCUTCHEON</h3> +</div> +<p>The land baron’s injuries did not long keep him +indoors, for it was his pride rather than his body that +had received deep and bitter wounds. He chafed and +fumed when he thought how, in all likelihood, the details +of his defeat could not be suppressed in the clubs +and <i>cafés</i>. This anticipated publicity he took in ill +part, fanning his mental disorder with brandy, mellow +and insidious with age. But beneath the dregs +of indulgence lay an image which preyed upon his +mind more than his defeat beneath the Oaks: a +figure, on the crude stage of a country tavern; in the +manor window, with an aureole around her from the +sinking sun; in the grand stand at the races, the gay +dandies singling her out in all that seraglio of beauty.</p> +<p>“I played him too freely,” he groaned to the Count +de Propriac, as the latter sat contemplatively nursing +the ivory handle of his cane and offering the land +baron such poor solace as his company afforded. “I +misjudged the attack, besides exposing myself too +much. If I could only meet him again!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span></div> +<p>The visitor reflectively took the handle of the stick +from his lips, thrust out his legs and yawned. The +count was sleepy, having drowned dull care the night +before, and had little sympathy with such spirited talk +so early in the day. His lack-luster gaze wandered +to the pictures on the wall, the duel between two court +ladies for the possession of the Duc de Richelieu and an +old print of the deadly public contest of François de +Vivonne and Guy de Jarnac and then strayed languidly +to the other paraphernalia of a high-spirited bachelor’s +rooms––foils, dueling pistols and masks––trappings +that but served to recall to the land baron his defeat.</p> +<p>“It would be like running against a stone wall,” +said the count, finally; “demme if it wouldn’t! He +could have killed you!”</p> +<p>“Why didn’t he do it, then?” demanded the land +baron, fiercely.</p> +<p>The count shrugged his shoulders, drank his brandy, +and handed the bottle to his companion, who helped +himself, as though not averse to that sort of medicine +for his physical and mental ailments.</p> +<p>“What’s the news?” he asked abruptly, sinking back +on his pillow.</p> +<p>“The levees are flooded.”</p> +<p>“Hanged if I care if it’s another deluge!” said +Mauville. “I mean news of the town, not news of +the river.”</p> +<p>“There’s a new beauty come to town––a brunette; +all the bloods are talking about her. Where did she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +come from? Who is she? These are some of the +questions asked. But she’s a Peri, at any rate! shy, +hard to get acquainted with––at first! An actress––Miss +Carew!”</p> +<p>The glass trembled in the patroon’s hand. “Do +you know her?” he asked unsteadily.</p> +<p>Smiling, the visitor returned the cane to his lips and +gazed into vacancy, as though communing with agreeable +thoughts.</p> +<p>“I have met her,” he said finally. “Yes; I may say +I have met her. Ged! Next to a duel with rapiers +is one with eyes. They thrust at you; you parry; +they return, and, demme! you’re stabbed! But don’t +ask me any more––discretion––you understand––between +men of the world––demme!”––and the count +relapsed into a vacuous dream.</p> +<p>“What a precious liar he is!” commented the land +baron to himself. But his mind soon reverted to the +duel once more. “If I had only followed Spedella’s +advice and studied his favorite parades!” he muttered, +regretfully.</p> +<p>“It would have been the same,” retorted the count, +brutally. “When you lost your temper, you lost your +cause. Your work was brilliant; but he is one of +the best swordsmen I ever saw. Who is he, anyway?”</p> +<p>“All I know is, he served in Algiers,” said Mauville, +moodily.</p> +<p>“A demmed adventurer, probably!” exclaimed the +other.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span></div> +<p>“I’d give a good deal to know his record,” remarked +the patroon, contemplatively. “You should be pretty +well acquainted with the personnel of the army?”</p> +<p>“It includes everybody nowadays,” replied the diplomat. +“I have a large acquaintance, but I am not a +directory. A person who knows everybody usually +knows nobody––worth knowing! But it seems to +me I did know of a Saint-Prosper at the military college +at Saumur; or was it at the <i>Ecole d’application +d’état-major</i>? Demmed scapegrace, if I am not mistaken; +sent to Algiers; must be the same. A hell-rake +hole!––full of German and French outcasts! +Knaves, adventureres, ready for plunder and loot!”</p> +<p>Here the count, after this outburst, closed his eyes +and seemed almost on the point of dropping off, but +suddenly straightened himself.</p> +<p>“Let’s get the cards, or the dice, Mauville,” he said, +“or I’ll fall into a doze. Such a demmed sleepy climate!”</p> +<p>Soon the count was shuffling and the land baron and +he were playing bezique, but in spite of the latter’s +drowsiness, he won steadily from his inattentive companion, +and, although the noble visitor had some difficulty +in keeping his eyes open, what there was of his +glance was vigilantly concentrated on his little pile +of the coin of the realm. His watchfulness did not +relax nor his success desert him, until Mauville finally +threw down the cards in disgust, weary alike of such +poor luck and the half-nodding automaton confronting +him; whereupon the count thrust every piece of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +gold carefully away in his pocket, absently reached for +his hat, drawled a perfunctory farewell and departed +in a brown study.</p> +<p>The count’s company, of which he had enjoyed a +good deal during the past forty-eight hours, did not +improve Mauville’s temper, and he bore his own reflections +so grudgingly that inaction became intolerable. +Besides, certain words of his caller concerning +Saint-Prosper had stimulated his curiosity, and, in +casting about for a way to confirm his suspicions, he +had suddenly determined in what wise to proceed. Accordingly, +the next day he left his rooms, his first +visit being to a spacious, substantial residence of stone +and lime, with green veranda palings and windows +that opened as doors, with a profusion of gauzy curtains +hanging behind them. This house, the present +home of the Marquis de Ligne, stood in the French +quarter, contrasting architecturally with the newer +brick buildings erected for the American population. +The land baron was ushered into a large reception +room, sending his card to the marquis by the neat-appearing +colored maid who answered the door.</p> +<p>If surroundings indicate the man, the apartments in +which the visitor stood spoke eloquently of the marquis’ +taste. Eschewing the stiff, affected classicalism +of the Empire style, the furniture was the best +work of André Boule and Riesener; tables, with fine +marquetry of the last century, made of tulip wood and +mahogany; mirrors from Tourlaville; couches +with tapestry woven in fanciful designs after Fragonard, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span> +in the looms of Beauvais––couches that were +made for conversation, not repose; cabinets exemplifying +agreeable disposition of lines and masses in the +inlaid adornment, containing tiny drawers that fitted +with old-time exactness, and, without jamming, +opened and shut at the touch. The marquis’ character +was stamped by these details; it was old, not new +France, to which he belonged.</p> +<p>Soon the marquis’ servant, a stolid, sober man, of +virtuous deportment, came down stairs to inform the +land baron his master had suffered a relapse and was +unable to see any one.</p> +<p>“Last night his temperature was very high,” said the +valet. “My master is very ill; more so than I have +known him to be in twenty years.”</p> +<p>“You have served the marquis so long?” said the +visitor, pausing as he was leaving the room. “Do +you remember the Saint-Prosper family?”</p> +<p>“Well, Monsieur. General Saint-Prosper and my +master were distant kinsmen and had adjoining lands.”</p> +<p>“Surely the marquis did not pass his time in the +country?” observed Mauville.</p> +<p>“He preferred it to Paris––when my lady was +there!” added François, softly.</p> +<p>In spite of his ill-humor, the shadow of a smile +gleamed in the land baron’s gaze, and, encouraged by +that questioning look, the man continued: “The marquis +and General Saint-Prosper were always together. +My lady had her own friends.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span></div> +<p>“So I’ve heard,” commented the listener.</p> +<p>François’ discreet eyes were downcast. Why did +the visitor wish to learn about the Saint-Prosper family? +Why, instead of going, did he linger and eye +the man half-dubiously? François had sold so many +of his master’s secrets he scented his opportunities +with a sixth sense.</p> +<p>“The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were +warm friends?” asked the land baron at length.</p> +<p>“Yes, Monsieur; the death of the latter was a severe +shock to the Marquis de Ligne, but, <i>mon Dieu</i>!”––lifting +his eyes––“it was as well he did not live to +witness the disgrace of his son.”</p> +<p>“His son’s disgrace,” repeated the land baron, +eagerly. “Oh, you mean running in debt––gaming––some +such fashionable virtue?”</p> +<p>“If betraying his country is a fashionable virtue,” +replied the valet. “He is a traitor.”</p> +<p>Incredulity overspread the land baron’s features; +then, coincident with the assertion, came remembrance +of his conversation with the marquis.</p> +<p>“He certainly called him that,” ruminated the visitor. +Not only the words, but the expression of the +old nobleman’s face recurred to him. What did it +mean unless it confirmed the deliberate charge of the +valet? The land baron forgot his disappointment +over his inability to see the marquis, and began to look +with more favor on the man.</p> +<p>“He surrendered a French stronghold,” continued +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +the servant, softly. “Not through fear; oh, no; but +for ambition, power, under Abd-el-Kader, the Moorish +leader.”</p> +<p>“How do you know this?” said the patroon, sharply.</p> +<p>“My master has the report of the military board of +inquiry,” replied the man, steadily.</p> +<p>“Why has the matter attracted no public attention, +if a board of inquiry was appointed?”</p> +<p>“The board was a secret one, and the report was +suppressed. Few have seen it, except the late King +of France and my master.”</p> +<p>“And yourself, François?” said the patroon, his +manner changing.</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur!” Deprecatorily.</p> +<p>“Since it has been inspected by such good company, +I confess curiosity to look at it myself. But your +master is ill; I can not speak with him; perhaps you––”</p> +<p>“I, Monsieur!” Indignantly.</p> +<p>“For five hundred francs, François?”</p> +<p>Like oil upon the troubled waters, this assurance +wrought a swift change in the valet’s manner.</p> +<p>“To oblige Monsieur!” he answered, softly, but his +eyes gleamed like a lynx’s. His stateliness was a +sham; his perfidy and hypocrisy surprised even the +land baron.</p> +<p>“You have no compunctions about selling a reputation, +François?”</p> +<p>“Reputation is that!” said the man, contemptuously +snapping his fingers, emboldened by his compact with +the caller. “Francs and sous are everything.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span></div> +<p>“Lord, how servants imbibe the ideas of their betters!” +quoth the patroon, as he left the house and +strode down the graveled walk, decapitating the begonias +with his cane.</p> +<p>Furtively the valet watched his departing figure. +“Why does he want it?” he thought.</p> +<p>Then he shrugged his shoulders. “What do I +care!”</p> +<p>“François!” piped a shrill and querulous treble from +above, dispelling the servant’s conjectures.</p> +<p>“Coming, my lord!” And the valet slowly mounted +the broad stairway amid a fusillade of epithets from +the sick chamber. An hour before the marquis had +ordered him out of his sight as vehemently as now he +summoned him, all of which François endured with +infinite patience and becoming humility.</p> +<p>Passing into the Rue Royale, the favorite promenade +of the Creole-French, the land baron went on +through various thoroughfares with French-English +nomenclature into St. Charles Street, reaching his +apartments, which adjoined a well-known club. He +was glad to stretch himself once more on his couch, +feeling fatigued from his efforts, and having rather +overtaxed his strength.</p> +<p>But if his body was now inert, his mind was active. +His thoughts dwelt upon the soldier’s reticence, his +disinclination to make acquaintances, and the coldness +with which he had received his, Mauville’s, advances +in the Shadengo Valley. Why, asked Mauville, lying +there and putting the pieces of the tale together, did +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +not Saint-Prosper remain with his new-found friends, +the enemies of his country? Because, came the answer, +Abd-el-Kader, the patriot of Algerian independence, +had been captured and the subjection of the +country had followed. Since Algeria had become a +French colony, where could Saint-Prosper have found +a safer asylum than in America? Where more secure +from “that chosen curse” for the man who owes his +weal to his country’s woe?</p> +<p>In his impatience to possess the promised proof, the +day passed all too slowly. He even hoped the count +would call, although that worthy brought with him all +the “flattering devils, sweet poison and deadly sins” of +inebriation. But the count, like a poor friend, was +absent when wanted, and it was a distinct relief to +the land baron when François appeared at his apartments +in the evening with a buff-colored envelope, +which he handed to him.</p> +<p>“The suppressed report?” asked the latter, weighing +it in his hand.</p> +<p>“No, Monsieur; I could not find that. My master +must have destroyed it.”</p> +<p>The land baron made a gesture of disappointment +and irritation.</p> +<p>“But this,” François hastened to add, “is a letter +from the Duc d’Aumale, governor of Algeria, to the +Marquis de Ligne, describing the affair. Monsieur +will find it equally as satisfactory, I am sure.”</p> +<p>“How did you get it?” said the patroon, thoughtfully.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span></div> +<p>“My master left the keys on the dresser.”</p> +<p>“And if he misses this letter––”</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur, I grieve my master is so ill he could +not miss anything but his ailments! Those he would +willingly dispense with. My poor master!”</p> +<p>“There! Take your long, hypocritical face out of +my sight!” said Mauville, curtly, at the same time +handing him the promised reward, which François +calmly accepted. A moment later, however, he drew +himself up.</p> +<p>“Monsieur has not paid for the right to libel my +character,” he said.</p> +<p>“Your character!”</p> +<p>“My character, Monsieur!” the valet replied firmly, +and bowed in the stateliest fashion of the old school +as he backed out of the room with grand obsequiousness. +Deliberately, heavily and solidly, resounded +the echoing footsteps of François upon the stairway, +like the going of some substantial personage of unimpeachable +rectitude.</p> +<p>As the front door closed sharply the land baron +threw the envelope on the table and quietly surveyed +it, the remnants of his pride rising in revolt.</p> +<p>“Have I then sunk so low as to read private communications +or pry into family secrets? Is it a family +secret, though? Should it not become common property? +Why have they protected him? Did the marquis +wish to spare the son of an old friend? Besides”––his +glance again seeking the envelope––“it is +my privilege to learn whether I have fought with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +gentleman or a renegade.” But even as he meditated, +he felt the sophistry of this last argument, while +through his brain ran the undercurrent: “He has +wooed her––won her, perhaps!” Passion, rather than +injured hauteur, stirred him. At the same time a +great indignation filled his breast; how Saint-Prosper +had tricked her and turned her from himself!</p> +<p>And moving from the mantel upon which he was +leaning, Mauville strode to the table and untied the +envelope.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_A_CYNICAL_BARD' id='CHAPTER_VII_A_CYNICAL_BARD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>A CYNICAL BARD</h3> +</div> +<p>A dusty window looking out upon a dusty thoroughfare; +a dusty room, lighted by the dusty window, and +revealing a dusty chair, a dusty carpet and––probably––a +dusty bed! Over the foot and the head of the +bed the lodger’s wardrobe lay carelessly thrown. He +had but to reach up, and lo! his shirt was at hand; to +reach down, and there were collar and necktie! Presto, +he was dressed, without getting out of bed, running +no risk from cold floors for cold feet, lurking tacks or +stray needles and pins! On every side appeared evidence +of confusion, or a bachelor’s idea of order.</p> +<p>Fastened to the head-board of the bed was a box, +wherein were stored various and divers articles and +things. With as little inconvenience as might be imagined +the lodger could plunge his hand into his +cupboard and pull out a pipe, a box of matches, a +bottle of ink, a bottle of something else, paper and +pins, and, last but not least, his beloved tin whistle of +three holes, variously dignified a <i>fretiau</i>, a <i>frestele</i>, +or a <i>galoubet</i>, upon which he played ravishing tunes.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span></div> +<p>Oh, a wonderful box was Straws’ little bedstead +cupboard! As Phazma said of it, it contained everything +it should not, and nothing it should contain. +But that was why it was a poet’s box. If it had held +a Harpagon’s Interest Computer, instead of a well-thumbed +Virgil, or Oldcodger’s Commercial Statistics +for 184––, instead of an antique, leather-covered Montaigne, +Straws would have had no use for the cupboard. +It was at once his library––a scanty one, for +the poet held tenaciously to but a few books––his sideboard, +his <i>secrétaire</i>, his music cabinet––giving lodgment +in this last capacity to a single work, “The Complete +and Classical Preceptor for Galoubet, Containing +Tunes, Polkas and Military Pieces.”</p> +<p>Suspended from the ceiling hung a wooden cage, +confining a mocking bird that had become acclimated +to the death-dealing atmosphere of tobacco smoke, +alcoholic fumes and poetry. All these the songster +had endured and survived, nay, thriven upon, lifting +up its voice in happy cadence and blithely hopping +about its prison, the door of which Straws sometimes +opened, permitting the feathered captive the dubious +freedom of the room. Pasted on the foot-board of +the bed was an old engraving of a wandering musician +mountebank, playing a galoubet as an accompaniment +to a dancing dog and a cock on stilts, a never-wearying +picture for Straws, with his migratory, vagabond proclivities.</p> +<p>A bracket on the wall looked as though it might +have been intended for a piece of statuary, or a bit of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +porcelain or china decoration, but had really been +set there for his ink-pot, when he was mindful to work +in bed, although how the Muse could be induced to +set foot in that old nookery of a room could only be +explained through the whims and crotchets of that +odd young person’s character.</p> +<p>Yet come she would and did, although she got dust +on her flowing skirts when she swept across the +threshold; dust on her snow-white gown––if the +writers are to be believed in regard to its hue!––when +she sat down in the only chair, and dust in her eyes +when she flirted her fan. Fortunate was it for +Straws that the Muse is a wayward, freakish gipsy; +a straggler in attics; a vagrant of the streets; fortunately +for him she is not at all the fine lady she has +been depicted! Doubtless she has her own reasons +for her vagaries; perhaps because it is so easy to soar +from the hovel to fairy-land, but to soar from a palace––that +is obviously impossible; it is a height in itself! +So this itinerant maiden ever yawns amid +scenes of splendor, and, from time immemorial, has +sighed for lofts, garrets, and such humble places as +Straws’ earthly abode.</p> +<p>At the present time, however, Straws was alone. +This eccentric but lovely young lady had not deigned +to visit him that day. Once, indeed, she had just +looked in, but whisked back again into the hall, slamming +the door after her, and the pen, momentarily +grasped, had fallen from Straws’ hand. Instead of +reaching for the ink-bottle he reached in the cupboard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +for the other bottle. Again she came near entering +through the window––having many unconventional +ways of coming into a room!––but after looking in +for a moment, changed her mind after her fashion and +floated away into thin space like the giddy, volatile +mistress that she was. After that she appeared no +more––probably making a friendly call on some one +else!––and Straws resigned himself to her heartless +perfidy, having become accustomed to her frivolous, +fantastic moods.</p> +<p>Indeed, what else could he have done; what can any +man do when his lady-love deserts him, save to make +the best of it? But he found his consolation in a +pipe; not a pipe of tobacco, nor yet a pipe of old madeira, +which, figuratively, most disappointed lovers +seek; but a pipe of melody, a pipe of flowing tunes +and stirring marches; a pipe of three holes, vulgarly +termed by those who know not its high classic origin +from the Grecian reeds and its relation to the Pandian +pipes, a tin whistle! Thus was Straws classic in his +taste, affecting the instrument wherein Acis sighed +his soul and breath away for fair Galatea!</p> +<p>It had been a lazy, purposeless day. He had +awakened at noon; had coffee and rolls in bed; had +dressed, got up, looked out, lain down again, read, +and vainly essayed original composition. Now, lying +on his back, with the Complete and Classic Preceptor +before him, he soothed himself with such music “as +washes the every-day dust from the soul.” For a +pipe of three holes, his instrument had a remarkable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +compass; melody followed melody––“The Harp that +Once through Tara’s Hall,” “She is Far from the +Land,” “In Death I shall Calm Recline,” and other +popular pieces. When Straws missed a note he went +back to find it; when he erred in a phrase, he patiently +repeated it. The cadence in the last mournful selection, +“Bid her not shed a tear of sorrow,” was, on +his first attempt, fraught with exceeding discord, and +he was preparing once more to assault the citadel of +grief, entrenched with bristling high notes, when an +abrupt knocking at the door, followed by the appearance +of a face marred by wrath and adorned with an +enormous pair of whiskers, interrupted his attack.</p> +<p>“Sair,” said this person, excitedly, with no more +than his head in the room, like a Punch and Judy +figure peering from behind a curtain, “you are ze one +gran’ nuisance! Eet is zat––what you call eet?––whistle! +I am crazee––crazee!”</p> +<p>“Yes; you look it!” replied Straws, sympathetically. +“Perhaps, if you had a keep––”</p> +<p>“I am not crazee!” vociferated the man.</p> +<p>“No? Perhaps I could tell better, if I could see +more of you. Judging from the sample, I confess to +curiosity for a full-length view. If you will step in––”</p> +<p>“I will not step in! I will step out! I will leave +zis house! I will leave––forever!”</p> +<p>And the head vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, +to be followed by hasty footsteps down the +stairway.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span></div> +<p>“Now I can understand why Orpheus was torn to +pieces,” ruminated Straws, mournfully surveying the +offending pipe. “He played on the lyre! Return to +thy cupboard, O reed divine!”––putting the whistle +back in the box––“a vile world, as Falstaff says! +Heigho!”––yawning––“life is an empty void––which +reminds me I have a most poetic appetite. What shall +I do”––and Straws sat up relinquishing his lounging +attitude––“go out, or have pot-luck in the room? +Tortier’s bouillabaisse would about tickle the jaded +palate. A most poetic dish, that bouillabaisse! Containing +all the fish that swim in the sea and all the +herbs that grow on the land! Thus speaks gluttony! +Get thee behind me, odoriferous temptation of garlic! +succulent combination of broth and stew!”</p> +<p>So saying, Straws sprang from his bed, lighted a +charcoal fire in his tiny grate; rummaged a bureau +drawer and drew forth an end of bacon, a potato or +two, a few apples, an onion and the minor part of a +loaf of bread, all of which, except the bread, he sliced +and thrust indiscriminately into the frying-pan and +placed over the blue flame. Next from behind the +mirror he produced a diminutive coffee pot into which +he measured, with extreme care, just so much of the +ground berry, being rather over-nice about his demitasse. +Having progressed thus far in his preparation +for pot, or frying-pan luck––and indeed it seemed a +matter of luck, or good fortune, how that mixture +would turn out––he rapped on the floor with the heel +of his boot, like the prince in the fairy tale, summoning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +his attendant good genii, and in a few moments a light +tapping on the door announced the coming of a servitor.</p> +<p>Not a mighty wraith nor spook of Arabian fancy, +but a very small girl, or child, with very black hair, +very white skin and very dark, beautiful eyes. A +daughter of mixed ancestry, yet with her dainty hands +and little feet, she seemed descended from sprites or +sylphs.</p> +<p>“Monsieur called,” she said in her pretty dialect.</p> +<p>“Yes, my dear. Go to Monsieur Tortier’s, Celestina, +and tell him to give you a bottle of the kind +Monsieur Straws always takes.”</p> +<p>“At once, Monsieur,” she answered, very gravely, +very seriously. And Celestina vanished like a butterfly +that flutters quickly away.</p> +<p>“Now this won’t be bad after all,” thought Straws, +sniffing at the frying-pan which had begun to sputter +bravely over the coals, while the coffee pot gave +forth a fragrant steam. “A good bottle of wine will +transform a snack into a collation; turn pot-luck into +a feast!”</p> +<p>As thus he meditated the first of night’s outriders, +its fast-coming shadows, stole through the window; +following these swift van-couriers, night’s chariot +came galloping across the heavens; in the sky several +little clouds melted like Cleopatra’s pearls. Musing +before his fire the poet sat, not dreaming thoughts no +mortal ever dreamed before, but turning the bacon +and apples and stirring in a few herbs, for no other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +particular reason than that he had them and thought he +might as well use them.</p> +<p>“Celestina is taking longer than usual,” he mused. +“Perhaps, though, Monsieur Tortier intends to surprise +me with an unusually fine bottle. Yes; that is +undoubtedly the reason for the delay. He is hunting +about in the cellar for something a little out of the +ordinary. But here is Celestina now!” as the child +reappeared, with footsteps so noiseless the poet saw +before he heard her. “Where is the bottle, my little +Ariel? It must be an extra fine vintage. Bless old +Tortier’s noble heart!”</p> +<p>“There isn’t any bottle,” said the child. “Monsieur +said that your account––”</p> +<p>“The miserable old hunks! His heart’s no bigger +than a pin-head!”</p> +<p>“Please, I’m so sorry!” spoke up Celestina, a suspicious +moisture in her eyes.</p> +<p>“I know it, my dear,” returned Straws. “Your +heart is as big as his whole body. One of your tears +is more precious than his most priceless nectar.”</p> +<p>“I beg-ged him––that’s why I––I stayed so––long!” +half-sobbed Celestina.</p> +<p>“There! there!” said Straws, wiping her eyes. “Of +course it’s very tragic, but there’s no use crying over +spilled milk. Dear me, dear me; what can we do? +It’s terrible, but you know the proverb: ‘Every cloud +has a silver lining.’ Perhaps this one has. I wish +it had; or a golden one! Think of a cloud of gold, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +Celestina! Wouldn’t we be rich? What would you +do with it?”</p> +<p>“I’d go to––Monsieur Tortier’s and––and get the +bottle,” said the child in an agony of distress.</p> +<p>He lifted her on his knee, soothed her and held +her in his arms, stroking her dark hair.</p> +<p>“I believe you would,” he said. “And now, as we +haven’t got the golden cloud, let us see how we can +get on without it. How shall we conquer that ogre, +Monsieur Tortier? What would you suggest, Celestina?”</p> +<p>The child looked into the fire, with eyes wide-open.</p> +<p>“Come, be a good fairy now,” urged Straws, “and +tell me.”</p> +<p>“Why don’t you write him a poem?” said Celestina, +turning her eyes, bright with excitement, upon him.</p> +<p>“A poem! Non––by Jove, you’re right! An inspiration, +my dear! People like to be thought what +they are not. They want to be praised for virtues +foreign to themselves. The ass wants to masquerade +as the lion. ’Tis the law of nature. Now Monsieur +Tortier is a Jew; a scrimp; a usurer! Very well, we +will celebrate the virtues he hath not in verse and publish +the stanza in the Straws’ column. After all, we +are only following the example of the historians, and +they’re an eminently respectable lot of people. Celestina! +You watch the coffee pot, and I’ll grind out the +panegyric!”</p> +<p>The child knelt before the fire, but her glance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +strayed from the steaming spout to the poet’s face, as +he sat on the edge of his bed and rapidly scribbled. +By the time the bacon was fairly done and the other +condiments in the frying-pan had turned to a dark +hue, the production was finished and triumphantly +waved in mid air by the now hopeful Straws.</p> +<p>“I’ll just read you a part of it, my dear!” he said. +“It’s not half bad. But perhaps it would––bore you?” +With exaggerated modesty.</p> +<p>“Oh, I just love your poetry!” cried the girl, enthusiastically.</p> +<p>“If everybody were only like you now! Isn’t it +too bad you’ve got to grow up and grow wiser? But +here’s the refrain. There are six stanzas, but I won’t +trouble you with all of them, my dear. One mustn’t +drive a willing horse, or a willing auditor.”</p> +<p>And in a voice he endeavored to render melodious, +with her rapt glance fixed upon him, Straws read:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Sing, my Muse, the lay of the prodigal host!<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Who enters here leaveth behind not hope.<br /> +Course follows course; entrée, relevé, ragoût,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Ambrosial sauces, pungent, after luscious soup.<br /> +The landlord spurs his guests to fresh attack,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With fricassee, réchauffé and omelets;<br /> +A toothsome feast that Apicius would fain have served,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>While wine, divine, new zeal in all begets.<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Who is this host, my Muse, pray say?<br /> +<span class='indent4'> </span>Who but that prodigal, Tortier!</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“There, my dear,” concluded Straws, “those feet +are pretty wobbly to walk, but flattery moves on lame +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +legs faster than truth will travel on two good ones. +Besides, I haven’t time to polish them properly, or +the mess in the frying-pan will spoil. Better spoil +the poem than the contents of the flesh pots! Now if––dear +me, Celestina, if you haven’t let the coffee +pot boil over!”</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur,” cried the child, almost weeping +again. “I forgot to watch it! I just couldn’t while +you were writing poetry.”</p> +<p>“The excuse more than condones the offense,” continued +the other. “But as I was about to say, +you take this poem to Monsieur Tortier, make your +prettiest bow and courtesy––let me see you make a +courtesy.”</p> +<p>The girl bowed as dainty as a little duchess.</p> +<p>“That should melt a heart of stone in itself,” commented +Straws. “But Tortier’s is flint! After that +charming bow, you will give him my compliments; +Mr. Straws’ compliments, remember; and, would he +be kind enough just to glance over this poem which +Mr. Straws, with much mental effort, has prepared, +and which, if it be acceptable to Monsieur Tortier, +will appear in Mr. Straws’ famous and much-talked-of +column in the paper?”</p> +<p>“Oh, Monsieur, I can’t remember all that!” said the +girl.</p> +<p>“Do it your own way then. Besides, it will be better +than mine.”</p> +<p>With the poem hugged to her breast, the child +fairly flew out of the room, leaving Straws a prey to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +conflicting emotions. He experienced in those moments +of suspense all the doubts and fears of the nestling +bard or the tadpole litterateur, awaiting the pleasure +and sentence of the august editor or the puissant +publisher. Tortier had been suddenly exalted to the +judge’s lofty pedestal. Would he forthwith be an imperial +autocrat; turn tyrant or Thersites; or become +critic, one of “those graminivorous animals which gain +subsistence by gorging upon buds and leaves of the +young shrubs of the forest, robbing them of their verdure +and retarding their progress to maturity”?</p> +<p>Straws’ anxiety was trouble’s labor lost. Celestina +appeared, the glad messenger of success, and now, +as she came dancing into the room, bore in her arms +the fruits of victory which she laid before the poet +with sparkling eyes and laughing lips.</p> +<p>“So the poem was accepted?” murmured Straws. +“Discerning Tortier! Excellent dilettante! Let him +henceforth be known as a man of taste!” Here the +poet critically examined the bottle. “Nothing vapid, +thin or characterless there!” he added, holding it before +the blaze in the grate. “Positively I’ll dedicate +my forthcoming book to him. ‘To that worshipful +master and patron, the tasteful Tortier!’ What did +he say, Celestina, when you tendered him the poem?”</p> +<p>“At first he frowned and then he looked thoughtful. +And then he gave me some orange syrup. And then––O, +I don’t want to say!” A look of unutterable +concern displacing the happiness on her features.</p> +<p>“Say on, my dear!” cried Straws.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></div> +<p>“He––he said he––he didn’t think much of it as––O, +I can’t tell you; I can’t! I can’t!”</p> +<p>“Celestina,” said the poet sternly, “tell me at once. +I command you.”</p> +<p>“He said he didn’t think much of it as poetry, but +that people would read it and come to his <i>café</i> and––O +dear, O dear!”</p> +<p>“Beast! Brute! Parvenu! But there, don’t cry, +my dear. We have much to be thankful for––we +have the bottle.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes,” she said with conviction, and brightening +a bit. “We have the bottle.” And as she spoke, +“pop” it went, and Celestina laughed. “May I set +your table?” she asked.</p> +<p>“After your inestimable service to me, my dear, I +find it impossible to refuse,” he replied gravely.</p> +<p>“How good you are!” she remarked, placing a +rather soiled cloth, which she found somewhere, over +a battered trunk.</p> +<p>“I try not to be, but I can’t help it!” answered the +poet modestly.</p> +<p>“No; that’s it; you can’t help it!” she returned, +moving lightly around the room, emptying the contents +of the frying-pan––now an aromatic jumble––on +to a cracked blue platter, and setting knife and +fork, and a plate, also blue, before him! “And may +I wait on you, too?”</p> +<p>“Well, as a special favor––” He paused, appearing +to ponder deeply and darkly.</p> +<p>Her eyes were bent upon his face with mute appeal, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span> +her suspense so great she stood stock-still in the middle +of the floor, frying-pan in hand.</p> +<p>“Yes; you may wait on me,” he said finally, after +perplexed and weighty rumination.</p> +<p>At that her little feet fairly twinkled, but her hand +was ever so careful as she took the coffee pot from +the fire and put it near the blue plate. A glass––how +well she knew where everything was!––she found in +some mysterious corner and, sitting down on the floor, +cross-legged like a little Turk, a mere mite almost lost +in the semi-obscurity of the room, she polished it assiduously +upon the corner of the table cloth until it +shone free from specks of dust; all the time humming +very lightly like a bird, or a housewife whose heart is in +her work. A strange song, a curious bit of melody +that seemed to spring from some dark past and to +presage a future, equally sunless.</p> +<p>“Your supper is ready, Monsieur,” she said, rising.</p> +<p>“And I am ready for it. Why, how nicely the table +looks! Really, when we both grow up, I think we +should take a silver ship and sail to some silver shore +and live together there forever and evermore. How +would you like it?”</p> +<p>Celestina’s lips were mute, but her eyes were full +of rapturous response, and then became suddenly +shy, as though afraid of their own happiness.</p> +<p>“May I pour your wine?” she asked, with downcast +lashes.</p> +<p>“Can you manage it and not spill a drop? Remember +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +Cratinus wept and died of grief seeing his wine––no +doubt, this same vintage––spilt!”</p> +<p>But Straws was not called upon to emulate this +classic example. The feat of filling his glass was +deftly accomplished, and a moment later the poet +raised it with, “‘Drink to me only with thine +eyes!’” An appropriate sentiment for Celestina who +had nothing else to drink to him with. “Won’t you +have some of this––what shall I call it?––hash, stew +or ration?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve had my supper,” she answered.</p> +<p>“How fortunate for you, my dear! It isn’t exactly +a company bill of fare! But everything is what I +call snug and cozy. Here we are high up in the +world––right under the roof––all by ourselves, with +nobody to disturb us––”</p> +<p>A heavy footfall without; rap, rap, rap, on the door; +no timid, faltering knock, but a firm application of +somebody’s knuckles!</p> +<p>“It’s that Jack-in-the-box Frenchman,” muttered +the writer. “Go to the devil!” he called out.</p> +<p>The door opened.</p> +<p>“You have an original way of receiving visitors!” +drawled a languid voice, and the glance of the surprised +poet fell upon Edward Mauville. “Really, I +don’t know whether to come in or not,” continued the +latter at the threshold.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon,” murmured Straws. “I +thought it was a––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span></div> +<p>“Creditor?” suggested Mauville, with an amused +smile. “I know the class. Don’t apologize! I am +intruding. Quite a family party!” he went on, his +gaze resting upon Celestina and the interrupted repast.</p> +<p>With his elegant attire, satin waistcoat and fine +ruffles, he seemed out of place in the attic nook of +the Muse; a lordling who had wandered by mistake +into the wrong room. But he bore himself with the +easy assurance of a man who could adapt himself +to any surroundings; even to Calliope’s shabby boudoir!</p> +<p>“My dear,” remarked the disconcerted bard, “get +a chair for Mr. Mauville. Or––I beg your pardon––would +you mind sitting on the bed? Won’t you have +some wine? Celestina, bring another glass.”</p> +<p>But the girl only stood and stared at the dark, +courtly being who thus unexpectedly had burst in +upon them.</p> +<p>“There isn’t any more,” she finally managed to say. +“You’ve got the only glass there is, please!”</p> +<p>“Dear me; dear me!” exclaimed Straws. “How +glasses do get broken! I have so few occasions to use +them, too, for I don’t very often have visitors.”</p> +<p>“You are surprised to see me?” continued Mauville, +pleasantly, seating himself on the edge of the bed. +“Go on with your supper. You don’t mind my smoking +while you eat?”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-304.jpg' alt='' title='' width='351' height='544' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span></div> +<p>“No; the odor of onions is a little strong, isn’t it?” +laughed the other. “Rather strange, by the by, some +of nature’s best restoratives should be rank and +noisome, while her poisons, like the Upas tree, are +often sweet-smelling and agreeable?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” commented the land baron; “we make the +worst faces over the medicines that do us the most +good.”</p> +<p>“I presume,” said Straws, delighted at the prospect +of an argument, and forgetting his curiosity over the +other’s visit in this brief interchange of words, “nature +but calls our attention to the fact that we may +know our truest friends are not those with the sweetest +manners.”</p> +<p>“Heaven forbid!” remarked Mauville. “But how +are you getting on with your column? A surfeit of +news and gossip, I presume? What a busy fellow +you are, to be sure! Nothing escapes through your +seine. Big fish or little fish, it is all one. You dress +them up with alluring sauce.”</p> +<p>The bard shook his head.</p> +<p>“The net has been coming in dry,” he said gloomily. +“But that’s the way with the fish. Sometimes you +catch a good haul, and then they all disappear. It’s +been bad luck lately.”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I can make a cast for you,” cried the patroon +eagerly.</p> +<p>“And bring up what?” asked the hack.</p> +<p>“Something everybody will read; that will set the +gossips talking.”</p> +<p>“A woman’s reputation?”</p> +<p>“No; a man’s.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span></div> +<p>“That is to be regretted,” said Straws. “If, now, +it were only a woman’s––.However, it’s the next +best thing to start the town a-gossiping. I am much +obliged to you for taking the trouble of calling. All +those stairs to climb, too!”</p> +<p>“I was sure you would be glad to hear of it,” remarked +the patroon, slowly, studying with his bright, +insolent glance, the pale, intellectual face of the scribbler.</p> +<p>“Yes; there’s only one thing stands in the way.”</p> +<p>“And that?”</p> +<p>“I never publish anything I don’t believe. Don’t +misunderstand me, please.” Pouring out a glass of +wine. “Unfortunately I am so incredulous! Isn’t +it a pity? I am such a carping cynic; a regular skeptic +that follows the old adage, ‘Believe that story +false that ought not to be true.’ It’s such a detriment +to my work, too! A pretty scandal at the top of my +column would make me famous, while a sprinkling +of libels and lampoons would enable me to move down +a story or two. But, after all, I’d feel lost in the +luxury of a first floor front chamber. So, you see, +nature adjusts herself to our needs.”</p> +<p>“Makes the shell to fit the snail, as it were,” commented +the land baron, patronizingly, gazing around +the little cupboard of a room. “At any rate,” he +added, in an effort to hide his dissatisfaction, “it’s a +pleasure to become better acquainted with such a––what +shall I say?––whimsical fellow as yourself?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span></div> +<p>“That’s it,” returned the bard. “Whimsical!”</p> +<p>“I dare say you have had many a chance to +turn an honest penny or two, if you had not been +so skeptical, as you call it?” remarked the patroon, +significantly. “People, I presume, have even offered +to pay you for publishing the compliments of the season +about their neighbors?”</p> +<p>“Well,” answered the scribbler, laughing, “I may +have Midas’ longing for gold, but I also have his +ears. And the ears predominate. I am such an ass +I have even returned a fair petitioner’s perfumed note! +Such a dainty little hand! How good the paper +smelt! How devilish it read! The world’s idea +about the devil always smelling of sulphur and brimstone +is a slander on that much abused person. I +can positively affirm that he smells of musk, attar, +myrrh; as though he had lain somewhere with a +lady’s sachet or scent-bag.”</p> +<p>“Really you should revise Milton,” murmured the +land baron, carelessly, his interest quite gone. “But +I must be moving on.” And he arose. “Good evening.”</p> +<p>“Good night!” said Straws, going to the door after +his departing guest. “Can you see your way down? +Look out for the turn! And don’t depend too much +on the bannisters––they’re rather shaky. Well, he’s +gone!” Returning once more to the room. “We’re +coming up in the world, my dear, when such fashionable +callers visit us! What do you think of him?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span></div> +<p>“He is very––handsome!” replied the child.</p> +<p>“Oh, the vanity of the sex! Is he––is he handsomer +than I?”</p> +<p>“Are you––handsome?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Eh? Don’t you think so?”</p> +<p>“No-o,” she cried, in a passion of distressed truthfulness.</p> +<p>“Thank you, my dear! What a flattering creature +you’ll become, if you keep on as you’ve begun! How +you’ll wheedle the men, to be sure!”</p> +<p>“But mustn’t I say what I think?”</p> +<p>“Always! I’m a bad adviser! Think of bringing +up a young person, especially a girl, to speak the +truth! What a time she’ll have!”</p> +<p>“But I couldn’t do anything else!” she continued, +with absorbing and painful anxiety.</p> +<p>“Don’t, then! I’m instructing you to your destruction, +but––don’t! I’m a philosopher in the School for +Making Simpletons. What will you do when you +go out into the broad world with truth for your banner +and your heart on your sleeve?”</p> +<p>“How could I have my heart on my sleeve?” asked +Celestina.</p> +<p>“Because you couldn’t help it!”</p> +<p>“Really and truly on my sleeve?”</p> +<p>“Really and truly!” he affirmed, gravely.</p> +<p>“How funny!” answered the girl.</p> +<p>“No; tragic! But what shall we do now, Celestina?”</p> +<p>“Wash the dishes,” said the child, practically.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span></div> +<p>“But, my dear, we won’t need them until to-morrow,” +expostulated the poet. “Precipitancy is a bad +fault. Now, if you had proposed a little music, or a +fairy tale––”</p> +<p>“Oh, I could wash them while you played, or told +me a story,” suggested the child, eagerly.</p> +<p>“That isn’t such a bad idea,” commented Straws, +reflectively.</p> +<p>“Then you will let me?” she asked.</p> +<p>“Go ahead!” said the bard, and he reached for the +whistle.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SWEETEST_THING_IN_NATURE' id='CHAPTER_VIII_THE_SWEETEST_THING_IN_NATURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE</h3> +</div> +<p>The city, bustling and animated by day, like an energetic +housewife, was at night a gay demoiselle, +awakening to new life and excitement. The clerk +betook himself to his bowling or billiards and the mechanic +to the circus, while beauty and fashion repaired +to the concert room or to the Opéra Français, to listen +to Halévy or Donizetti. Restless Americans or Irishmen +rubbed elbows with the hurrying Frenchman or +Spaniard, and the dignified creole gentleman of leisure +alone was wrapped in a plenitude of dignity, +computing probably the interest he drew on money +loaned these assiduous foreigners.</p> +<p>Soldiers who had been granted leave of absence or +had slipped the guard at the camp on Andrew Jackson’s +battle-ground swaggered through the streets. +The change from a diet of pork and beans and army +hard tack was so marked that Uncle Sam’s young +men threw restraint to the winds, took the mask balls +by storm and gallantly assailed and made willing +prisoners of the fair sex. Eager to exchange their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +irksome life in camp for the active campaign in Mexico, +it was small wonder they relieved their impatience +by many a valiant dash into the hospitable town.</p> +<p>Carriages drove by with a rumble and a clatter, revealing +a fleeting glimpse of some beauty with full, +dark eye. Venders of flowers importuned the passers-by, +doing a brisk business; the oyster and coffee +stands reminded the spectator of a thoroughfare in +London on a Saturday night, with the people congregating +about the street stalls; but the brilliantly illumined +places of amusement, with their careless patrons +plainly apparent to all from without, resembled +rather a boulevard scene in the metropolis of France. +“Probably,” says a skeptical chronicler, “here and +there are quiet drawing-rooms, and tranquil firesides, +where domestic love is a chaste, presiding goddess.” +But the writer merely presumes such might have been +the case, and it is evident from his manner of expression, +he offers the suggestion, or afterthought, charitably, +with some doubts in his mind. Certainly he +never personally encountered the chaste goddess of +the hearth, or he would have qualified his words and +made his statement more positive.</p> +<p>From the life of the streets, the land baron turned +into a well-lighted entrance, passing into a large, luxuriously +furnished saloon, at one end of which stood +a table somewhat resembling a roulette board. Seated +on one side was the phlegmatic cashier, and, opposite +him, the dealer, equally impassive. Unlike faro––the +popular New Orleans game––no deal box was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +needed, the dealer holding the cards in his hand, while +a cavity in the center of the table contained a basket, +where the cards, once used, were thrown. A large +chandelier cast a brilliant light upon the scene.</p> +<p>“<i>Messieurs, faites vos jeux</i>,” drawled the monotonous +voice of the dealer, and expectation was keenly +written on the faces of the double circle of players––variously +disclosed, but, nevertheless, apparent in all; +a transformation of the natural expression of the features; +an obvious nervousness of manner, or where +the countenance was impassive, controlled by a strong +will, a peculiar glitter of the eyes, betokening the most +insatiable species of the gambler. As the dealer began +to shuffle together six packs of cards and place +them in a row on the table, he called out:</p> +<p>“Nothing more goes, gentlemen!”</p> +<p>The rapidity with which the cashier counted the +winnings at a distance and shoved them here and there +with the long rake was amazing and bewildering to +the novice risking a few gold pieces for the first time +on the altar of chance. Sorting the gold pieces in +even bunches, the cashier estimated them in a moment; +shoved them together; counted an equal amount of +fives with his fingers; made a little twirl in the pile +on the table; pushed it toward the winning pieces +and left them tumbled up together in pleasing confusion.</p> +<p>“<i>Messieurs, faites vos</i>––”</p> +<p>And the clinking went on, growing louder and +louder, the clinking of gold, which has a particularly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +musical sound, penetrating, crystalline as the golden +bells of Exodus, tinkling in the twilight of the temple +on the priest’s raiment. The clinking, clinking, that +lingers in the brain long after, drawing the players +to it night after night; an intoxicating murmur, +singing the desires that dominate the world; the jingling +that makes all men kin!</p> +<p>“Oh, dear!” said a light feminine voice, as the +rapacious rake unceremoniously drew in a poor, diminutive +pile of gold. “Why did I play? Isn’t it +provoking?”</p> +<p>“You have my sympathy, Mistress Susan,” breathed +a voice near her.</p> +<p>Looking around, she had the grace to blush becomingly, +and approached Mauville with an expressive +gesture, leaving Adonis and Kate at the table.</p> +<p>“Don’t be shocked, Mr. Mauville,” she began, hurriedly. +“We were told it was among the sights, and, +having natural curiosity––”</p> +<p>“I understand. Armed with righteousness, why +should not one go anywhere?”</p> +<p>“Why, indeed?” she murmured.</p> +<p>“But I’m afraid I’m taking you from your play?”</p> +<p>“I’m not going to play any more to-night.”</p> +<p>“Tired, already?”</p> +<p>“No; but––but I haven’t a cent. That miserable +table has robbed me of everything. All I have left”––piteously––“are +the clothes on my back.”</p> +<p>“Something must have been the matter with your +‘system.’ But if a temporary loan––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span></div> +<p>Susan was tempted, gazing longingly at the table, +with the fever burning in her.</p> +<p>“No,” she said, finally. “I <i>think</i> I would win, but, +of course, I <i>might</i> lose.”</p> +<p>“A wise reservation! Never place your fortune on +the hazard of the die.”</p> +<p>“But I have! What’s the use of making good resolutions +now? It’s like closing the barn-door after––”</p> +<p>“Just so!” he agreed. “But it might have been +worse.”</p> +<p>“How?” In dismay. “Didn’t that stony-looking +man rake in my last gold piece? He didn’t even +look sorry, either. But what is the matter with your +arm?” The land baron’s expression became ominous. +“You shook hands with your left hand. Oh, I see; +the duel!” Lightly.</p> +<p>“How did you hear about it?” asked Mauville, irritably.</p> +<p>“Oh, in a roundabout way. Murder will out! +And Constance––she was so solicitous about Mr. +Saint-Prosper, but rather proud, I believe, because +he”––with a laugh––“came off victorious.”</p> +<p>Susan’s prattle, although accompanied by innocent +glances from her blue eyes, was sometimes the most +irritating thing in the world, and the land baron, +goaded beyond endurance, now threw off his careless +manner and swore in an undertone by “every devil in +Satan’s calendar.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315' name='page_315'></a>315</span></div> +<p>“Can you not reserve your soliloquy until you leave +me?” observed Susan, sweetly. “Otherwise––”</p> +<p>“I regret to have shocked your ladyship,” he murmured, +satirically.</p> +<p>“I forgive you.” Raising her guileless eyes. +“When I think of the provocation, I do not blame +you––so much!”</p> +<p>“That is more than people do in your case,” muttered +the land baron savagely.</p> +<p>Susan’s hand trembled. “What do you mean?” +she asked, not without apprehension regarding his +answer.</p> +<p>“Oh, that affair with the young officer––the lad +who was killed in the duel, you know––”</p> +<p>Her composure forsook her for the moment and +she bit her lip cruelly.</p> +<p>“Don’t!” she whispered. “I am not to blame. I +never dreamed it would go so far! Why should +people––”</p> +<p>“Why?” he interposed, ironically.</p> +<p>Susan pulled herself together. “Yes, why?” she +repeated, defiantly. “Can women prevent men from +making fools of themselves any more than they can +prevent them from amusing themselves as they will? +To-day it is this toy; to-morrow, another. At length”––bitterly––“a +woman comes to consider herself only +a toy.”</p> +<p>Her companion regarded her curiously. “Well, +well!” he ejaculated, finally. “Losing at cards +doesn’t agree with your temper.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316' name='page_316'></a>316</span></div> +<p>“Nor being worsted by Saint-Prosper with yours!” +she retorted quickly.</p> +<p>Mauville looked virulent, but Susan, feeling that +she had retaliated in ample measure, recovered her +usual equanimity of temper and placed a conciliatory +hand sympathetically on his arm.</p> +<p>“We have both had a good deal to try us, haven’t +we? But how stupid men are!” she added suddenly. +“As if you could not find other consolation!”</p> +<p>He directed toward her an inquiring glance.</p> +<p>“Some time ago, while I was acting in London,” resumed +Susan, thoughtfully, “the leading lady refused +to receive the attentions of a certain odious English +lord. She was to make her appearance in a piece +upon which her reputation was staked. Mark what +happened! She was hissed! Hissed from the stage! +My lord led this hostile demonstration and all his +hired claqueurs joined in. She was ruined; ruined!” +concluded Susan, smiling amiably.</p> +<p>“You are ingenious, Mistress Susan––not to say a +trifle diabolical. Your plan––”</p> +<p>She opened her eyes widely. “I have suggested no +plan,” she interrupted, hurriedly.</p> +<p>“Well, let us sit down and I will tell you about a +French officer who––But here is a quiet corner, +Mistress Susan, and if you will promise not to repeat +it, I will regale you with a bit of interesting gossip.”</p> +<p>“I promise––they always do!” she laughed.</p> +<p>For such a frivolous lady, Susan was an excellent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317' name='page_317'></a>317</span> +listener. She, who on occasions chattered like a magpie, +was now silent as a mouse, drinking in the other’s +words with parted lips and sparkling eyes. First +he showed her the letter François had brought him. +Unmarked by postal indications, the missive had evidently +been intrusted to a private messenger of the +governor whose seal it bore. Dated about three years +previously, it was written in a somewhat illegible, +but not unintelligible, scrawl, the duke’s own handwriting.</p> +<p>“I send you, my dear marquis,” began the duke, “a +copy of the secret report of the military tribunal appointed +to investigate the charges against your kinsman, +Lieut. Saint-Prosper, and regret the finding of +the court should have been one of guilty of treason.</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper and Abd-el-Kader met near the +tomb of a marabout. From him the French officer +received a famous ruby which he thrust beneath his +zaboot––the first fee of their compact. That night +when the town lay sleeping, a turbaned host, armed +with yataghans, stole through the flowering cactuses. +Sesame! The gate opened to them; they swarmed +within! The soldiers, surprised, could render little resistance; +the ruthless invaders cut them down while +they were sleeping or before they could sound the +alarm. The bravest blood of France flowed lavishly in +the face of the treacherous onslaught; blood of men +who had been his fastest friends, among whom he had +been so popular for his dauntless courage and devil-may-care +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318' name='page_318'></a>318</span> +temerity! But a period, fearfully brief, and +the beloved tri-color was trampled in the dust; the barbarian +flag of the Emir floated in its place.</p> +<p>“All these particulars, and the part Saint-Prosper +played in the terrible drama, Abd-el-Kader, who is +now our prisoner, has himself confessed. The necessity +for secrecy, you, my dear Marquis, will appreciate. +The publicity of the affair now would work +incalculable injury to the nation. It is imperative to +preserve the army from the taint of scandal. The nation +hangs on a thread. God knows there is iniquity +abroad. I, who have labored for the honor of France +and planted her flag in distant lands, look for defeat, +not through want of bravery, but from internal causes. +A matter like this might lead to a popular uprising +against the army. Therefore, the king wills it shall +be buried by his faithful servants.”</p> +<p>As Mauville proceeded Susan remained motionless, +her eyes growing larger and larger, until they shone +like two lovely sapphires, but when he concluded she +gave a little sigh of pleasure and leaned back with a +pleased smile.</p> +<p>“Well?” he said, finally, after waiting some moments +for her to speak.</p> +<p>“How piquantly wicked he is!” she exclaimed, +softly.</p> +<p>“Piquantly, indeed!” repeated the land baron, +dryly.</p> +<p>“And he carries it without a twinge! What a petrified +conscience!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319' name='page_319'></a>319</span></div> +<p>“I believe you find him more interesting than ever?” +said Mauville, impatiently.</p> +<p>“Possibly!” Languidly. “An exceptional moral +ailment sometimes makes a man more attractive––like +a––an interesting subject in a hospital, you know! +But I have always felt,” she continued, with sudden +seriousness, “there was something wrong with him. +When I first saw him, I was sure he had had no ordinary +past, but I did not dream it was quite so––what +shall we call it––”</p> +<p>“Unsavory?” suggested her companion.</p> +<p>“That accounts for his unwillingness to talk about +Africa,” went on Susan. “Soldiers, as a rule, you +know, like to tell all about their sanguinary exploits. +But the tented field was a forbidden topic with him. +And once when I asked him about Algiers he was +almost rudely evasive.”</p> +<p>“He probably lives in constant fear his secret will +become known,” said Mauville, thoughtfully. “As a +matter of fact, the law provides that no person is to be +indicted for treason unless within three years after the +offense. The tribunal did not return an indictment; +the three years have just expired. Did he come to +America to make sure of these three years?”</p> +<p>But Susan’s thoughts had flitted to another feature +of the story.</p> +<p>“How strange my marquis should be connected +with the case! What an old compliment-monger he +was! He vowed he was deeply smitten with me.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320' name='page_320'></a>320</span></div> +<p>“And then went home and took to his bed!” added +Mauville, grimly.</p> +<p>“You wretch!” said the young woman, playfully. +“So that is the reason the dear old molly-coddle did +not take me to any of the gay suppers he promised? +Is it not strange Saint-Prosper has not met him?”</p> +<p>“You forget the marquis has been confined to his +room since his brief, but disastrous, courtship of you. +His infatuation seems to have brought him to the +verge of dissolution.”</p> +<p>“Was it not worth the price?” she retorted, rising. +“But I see my sister and Adonis are going, so I must +be off, too. So glad to have met you!”</p> +<p>“You are no longer angry with me?”</p> +<p>“No; you are very nice,” she said. “And you have +forgiven me?”</p> +<p>“Need you ask?” Pressing her hand. “Good evening, +Mistress Susan!”</p> +<p>“Good evening. Oh, by the way, I have an appointment +with Constance to rehearse a little scene +together this evening. Would you mind loaning me +that letter?”</p> +<p>“With pleasure; but remember your promise.”</p> +<p>“Promise?” repeated the young woman.</p> +<p>“Not to tell.”</p> +<p>“Oh, of course,” said Susan.</p> +<p>“But if you shouldn’t––”</p> +<p>“Then?”</p> +<p>“Then you might say the marquis, your friend and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321' name='page_321'></a>321</span> +admirer, gave you the letter. It would, perhaps, be +easier for you to account for it than for me.”</p> +<p>“But if the marquis should learn––” began the +other, half-dubiously.</p> +<p>“He is too ill for anything except the grave.”</p> +<p>“Oh, the poor old dear!”</p> +<p>She looked at the gaming table with its indefatigable +players and then turned to Kate and Adonis who approached +at that moment. “How did you come out, +Adonis?”</p> +<p>“Out,” he said, curtly.</p> +<p>“Lucky in love, unlucky at”––began Kate.</p> +<p>“Then you must be very unlucky in love,” he retorted, +“for you were a good winner at cards.”</p> +<p>“Oh, there are exceptions to that rule,” said Kate +lazily, with a yawn. “I’m lucky at both––in New +Orleans!”</p> +<p>“I have perceived it,” retorted Adonis, bitterly.</p> +<p>“Don’t quarrel,” Susan implored. Regarding the +table once more, she sighed: “I’m so sorry I came!”</p> +<p>But her feet fairly danced as she flew towards the +St. Charles. She entered, airy as a saucy craft, with +“all sails in full chase, ribbons and gauzes streaming +at the top,” and, with a frou-frou of skirts, burst into +Constance’s room, brimful of news and importance. +She remained there for some time, and when she left, +it was noteworthy her spirits were still high. In +crossing the hall, her red stockings became a fitting +color accompaniment to her sprightly step, as she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322' name='page_322'></a>322</span> +moved over the heavy carpet, skirts raised coquettishly, +humming with the gaiety of a young girl who +has just left boarding school.</p> +<p>“A blooming, innocent creature!” growled an up-the-river +planter, surveying her from one of the landings. +“Lord love me, if she were only a quadroon, +I’d buy her!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323' name='page_323'></a>323</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_A_DEBUT_IN_THE_CRESCENT_CITY' id='CHAPTER_IX_A_DEBUT_IN_THE_CRESCENT_CITY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY</h3> +</div> +<p>A versatile dramatic poet is grim Destiny, making +with equal facility tragedy, farce, burletta, masque or +mystery. The world is his inn, and, like the wandering +master of interludes, he sets up his stage in the +court-yard, beneath the windows of mortals, takes out +his figures and evolves charming comedies, stirring +melodramas, spirited harlequinades and moving divertissement. +But it is in tragedy his constructive +ability is especially apparent, and his characters, tripping +along unsuspectingly in the sunny byways, are +suddenly confronted by the terrifying mask and realize +life is not all pleasant pastime and that the Greek +philosophy of retribution is nature’s law, preserving +the unities. When the time comes, the Master of +events, adjusting them in prescribed lines, reaches by +stern obligation the avoidless conclusion.</p> +<p>Consulting no law but his own will, the Marquis +de Ligne had lived as though he were the autocrat of +fate itself instead of one of its servants, and therefore +was surprised when the venerable playwright prepared +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324' name='page_324'></a>324</span> +the unexpected dénouement. In pursuance of +this end, it was decreed by the imperious and incontrovertible +dramatist of the human family that this +crabbed, vicious, antiquated marionette should wend +his way to the St. Charles on a particular evening. +Since the day at the races, the eccentric nobleman +had been ill and confined to his room, but now he +was beginning to hobble around, and, immediately +with returning strength, sought diversion.</p> +<p>“François,” he said, “what is there at the theater +to-night?”</p> +<p>“Comic opera, my lord?”</p> +<p>The marquis made a grimace. “Comic opera outside +of Paris!” he exclaimed, with a shrug of the +shoulders.</p> +<p>“A new actress makes her début at the St. +Charles.”</p> +<p>“Let it be the début, then! Perhaps she will fail, +and that will amuse me.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my lord.”</p> +<p>“And, by the way, François, did you see anything +of a large envelope, a buff-colored envelope, I thought +I left in my secretary?”</p> +<p>“No, my lord.” But François became just a shade +paler.</p> +<p>“It is strange,” said the marquis, half to himself, +“what could have become of it! I destroyed other +papers, but not that. You are sure, François, you did +not steal it?”</p> +<p>By this time the servant’s knees began to tremble, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325' name='page_325'></a>325</span> +and, had the marquis’ eyesight been better, he could +not have failed to detect the other’s agitation. But +the valet assumed a bold front, as he asked:</p> +<p>“Why should I have stolen it?”</p> +<p>“True, why?” grumbled the marquis. “It would +be of no service to you. No; you didn’t take it. I +believe you honest––in this case!”</p> +<p>“Thank you, my lord!”</p> +<p>“After all, what does it matter?” muttered the nobleman +to himself. “What’s in a good name to-day––with +traitors within and traitors without? ’Tis +love’s labor lost to have protected it! We’ve fostered +a military nest of traitors. The scorpions will +be faithful to nothing but their own ends. They’ll +fight for any master.”</p> +<p>Recalled to his purpose of attending the play by +François’ bringing from the wardrobe sundry articles +of attire, the marquis underwent an elaborate toilet, +recovering his good humor as this complicated operation +proceeded. Indeed, by the time it had reached +a triumphant end and the valet set the marquis before +a mirror, the latter had forgotten his dissatisfaction +at the government in his pleasure with himself.</p> +<p>“Too much excitement is dangerous, is it?” he mumbled. +“I am afraid there will be none at all. A stage-struck +young woman; a doll-like face, probably; a +milk-and-water performance! Now, in the old days +actors were artists. Yes, artists!” he repeated, as +though he had struck a chord that vibrated in his memory.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326' name='page_326'></a>326</span></div> +<p>Arriving at the theater, he was surprised at the +scene of animation; the line of carriages; the crowd +about the doors and in the entrance hall! Evidently +the city eagerly sought novelty, and Barnes’ company, +offering new diversion after many weeks of opera, +drew a fair proportion of pleasure-seekers to the portals +of the drama. The noise of rattling wheels and +the banging of carriage doors; the aspect of many +fair ladies, irreproachably gowned; the confusion of +voices from venders hovering near the gallery entrance––imparted +a cosmopolitan atmosphere to the +surroundings.</p> +<p>“You’d think some well-known player was going to +appear, François!” grumbled the marquis, as he +thrust his head out of his carriage. “Looks like a +theater off the Strand! And there’s an orange-girl! +A dusky Peggy!”</p> +<p>The vehicle of the nobleman drew up before the +brilliantly-lighted entrance. Mincingly, the marquis +dismounted, assisted by the valet; within he was met +by a <i>loge</i> director who, with the airs of a Chesterfield, +bowed the people in and out.</p> +<p>“Your ticket, sir!” said this courteous individual, +scraping unusually low.</p> +<p>The marquis waved his hand toward his man, and +François produced the bits of pasteboard. Escorted +to his box, the nobleman settled himself in an easy +chair, after which he stared impudently and inquisitively +around him.</p> +<p>And what a heterogeneous assemblage it was; of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327' name='page_327'></a>327</span> +how many nationalities made up; gay bachelors, representatives +of the western trade and eastern manufacturers; +a fair sprinkling of the military element, +seeking amusement before departing for the front, their +brass buttons and striking new uniforms a grim reminder +of the conflict waging between the United +States and Mexico; cotton brokers, banking agents, +sugar, tobacco and flour dealers; some evidently English +with their rosy complexions, and others French by +their gesticulations! And among the women, dashing +belles from Saratoga, proud beauties from Louisville, +“milliner-martyred” daughters of interior planters, +and handsome creole matrons, in black gowns +that set off their white shoulders!</p> +<p>In this stately assemblage––to particularize for a +moment!––was seated the (erstwhile!) saintly Madame +Etalage, still proud in her bearing, although white +as an angel, and by her side, her carpet knight, an +extravagant, preposterous fop. A few seats in front +of her prattled the lovely <i>ingenue</i>, little Fantoccini, a +biting libeller of other actresses, with her pitiless +tongue. To her left was a shaggy-looking gentleman, +the Addison of New Orleans’ letters, a most tolerant +critic, who never spoke to a woman if he could avoid +doing so, but who, from his philosophical stool, viewed +the sex with a conviction it could do no wrong; a +judgment in perspective, as it were!</p> +<p>The marquis paid little attention to the men; it +was the feminine portion of the audience that interested +him, and he regarded it with a gloating leer, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328' name='page_328'></a>328</span> +expression of a senile satyr. Albeit a little on the +seamy side of life, his rank and wealth were such +that he himself attracted a good deal of attention, +matronly eyes being turned in his direction with not +unkindly purport. The marquis perceived the stir +his presence occasioned and was not at all displeased; +on the contrary, his manner denoted gratification, smiling +and smirking from bud to blossom and from blossom +to bud!</p> +<p>How fascinating it was to revel in the sight of so +much youth and beauty from the brink of the grave +whereon he stood; how young it made him feel again! +He rubbed his withered hands together in childish +delight, while he contemplated the lively charms of +Fantoccini or devoted himself to the no less diverting +scrutiny of certain other dark-haired ladies.</p> +<p>While occupied in this agreeable pastime the nobleman +became dimly conscious the debutante had appeared +and was greeted with the moderate applause +of an audience that is reserving its opinion. “Gad,” +said one of the dandies who was keenly observing the +nobleman, “it’s fashionable to look at the people and +not at the actors!” And he straightway stared at +the boxes, assuming a lackadaisical, languishing air. +Having taken note of his surroundings to his satisfaction, +the marquis at length condescended to turn his +eye-glass deliberately and quizzically to the stage. +His sight was not the best, and he gazed for some time +before discerning a graceful figure and a pure, oval +face, with dark hair and eyes.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329' name='page_329'></a>329</span></div> +<p>“Humph, not a bad stage presence!” he thought. +“Probably plenty of beauty, with a paucity of talent! +That’s the way nowadays. The voice––why, where +have I heard it before? A beautiful voice! What +melody, what power, what richness! And the face––” Here +he wiped the moisture from his glasses––“if +the face is equal to the voice, she has an unusual combination +in an artist.”</p> +<p>Again he elevated the glass. Suddenly his attenuated +frame straightened, his hand shook violently and, +the glasses fell from his nerveless fingers.</p> +<p>“Impossible!” he murmured. But the melody of +those tones continued to fall upon his ears like a voice +from the past.</p> +<p>When the curtain went down on the first act there +was a storm of applause. In New Orleans nothing +was done by halves, and Constance, as Adrienne Lecouvreur, +radiant in youth and the knowledge of success, +was called out several times. The creoles made +a vigorous demonstration; the Americans were as +pleased in their less impulsive way; and in the loges +all the lattices were pushed up, “a compliment to any +player,” said Straws. To the marquis, the ladies +in the <i>loges</i> were only reminiscent of the fashionable +dames, with bare shoulders and glittering jewels, in +the side boxes of old Drury Lane, leaning from their +high tribunals to applaud the Adrienne of twenty years +ago!</p> +<p>He did not sit in a theater in New Orleans now, but +in London town, with a woman by his side who bent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330' name='page_330'></a>330</span> +beneath the storm of words she knew were directed +at her. As in a dream he lingered, plunged in +thought, with no longer the cynical, carping expression +on his face as he looked at the stage, but awed +and wonder-stricken, transported to another scene +through the lapse of years that folded their shadowy +wings and made the past to-day. Two vivid pictures +floated before him as though they belonged to the +present: Adrienne, bright, smiling and happy, as she +rushed into the green room, with the plaudits of the +multitude heard outside; Adrienne, in her last moments, +betrayed to death!</p> +<p>They were applauding now, or was it but the mocking +echo of the past? The curtain had descended, +but went up again, and the actress stood with flowers +showered around her. Save that she was in the springtime +of life, while the other had entered summer’s +season; that her art was tender and romantic, rather +than overwhelming and tragic, she was the counterpart +of the actress he had deserted in London; a +faithful prototype, bearing the mother’s eyes, brow and +features; a moving, living picture of the dead, as +though the grave had rolled back its stone and she +had stepped forth, young once more, trusting and innocent.</p> +<p>The musical bell rang in the wine room, where the +worshipers of Bacchus were assembled, the signal +that the drop would rise again in five minutes. At +the bar the imbibers were passing judgment.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331' name='page_331'></a>331</span></div> +<p>“What elegance, deah boy! But cold––give me +Fantoccini!” cried the carpet knight.</p> +<p>“Fantoccini’s a doll to her!” retorted the worldly +young spark addressed.</p> +<p>“A wicked French doll, then! What do you +think?” Turning to the local Addison.</p> +<p>“Sir, she ‘snatches a grace beyond the reach of +art’!” replied that worthy.</p> +<p>“You ask for a criticism, and he answers in poetry!” +retorted the first speaker.</p> +<p>“’Tis only the expression of the audience!” interposed +another voice.</p> +<p>“Oh, of course, Mr. Mauville, if you, too, take her +part, that is the end of it!”</p> +<p>The land baron’s smile revealed withering contempt, +as with eyes bright with suppressed excitement, and +his face unusually sallow, he joined the group.</p> +<p>“The end of it!” he repeated, fixing his glance upon +the captious dandy. “The beginning, you mean! The +beginning of her triumphs!”</p> +<p>“Oh, have your own way!” answered the disconcerted +critic.</p> +<p>Mauville deliberately turned his back. “And such +dunces sit in judgment!” he muttered to the scholar.</p> +<p>“Curse me, Mauville’s in a temper to-night!” said +the spark in a low voice. “Been drinking, I reckon! +But it’s time for the next act!”</p> +<p>Punches and juleps were hastily disposed of, and the +imbibers quickly sought their places. This sudden +influx, with its accompanying laughter and chattering, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332' name='page_332'></a>332</span> +aroused the marquis from his lethargy. He started +and looked around him in bewilderment. The noise +and the light conversation, however, soon recalled his +mind to a sense of his surroundings, and he endeavored +to recover his self-possession.</p> +<p>Could it be possible it was but a likeness his imagination +had converted into such vivid resemblance? A +sudden thought seized him and he looked around +toward the door of the box.</p> +<p>“François!” he called, and the valet, who had been +waiting his master’s pleasure without, immediately +appeared.</p> +<p>“Sit down, François!” commanded the marquis. +“I am not feeling well. I may conclude to leave soon, +and may need your arm.”</p> +<p>The servant obeyed, and the nobleman, under pretense +of finding more air near the door, drew back his +chair, where he could furtively watch his man’s face. +The orchestra ceased; the curtain rose, and the valet +gazed mechanically at the stage. In his way, François +was as <i>blasé</i> as his master, only, of course, he understood +his position too well to reveal that lassitude and +ennui, the expression of which was the particular privilege +of his betters. He had seen many great actresses +and heard many peerless singers; he had delved after +his fashion into sundry problems, and had earned as +great a right as any of the nobility to satiety and defatigation +in his old age, but unfortunately he was +born in a class which may feel but not reveal, and mask +alike content and discontent.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333' name='page_333'></a>333</span></div> +<p>Again those tones floated out from the past; musical, +soft! The marquis trembled. Did not the man +notice? No; he was still looking gravely before him. +Dolt; did he not remember? Could he not recall the +times beyond number when he had heard that voice; in +the ivy-covered cottage; in the garden of English +roses?</p> +<p>Suddenly the valet uttered an exclamation; the stolid +aspect of his face gave way to an obvious thrill of interest.</p> +<p>“My lord!” he cried.</p> +<p>“An excellent actress, François; an excellent actress!” +said the marquis, rising. “Is that my coat? +Get it for me. What are you standing there for? +Your arm! Don’t you see I am waiting?”</p> +<p>Overwrought and excitable, he did not dare remain +for the latter portion of the drama; better leave before +the last act, he told himself, and, dazed by the reappearance +of that vision, the old man fairly staggered +from the box.</p> +<p>The curtain fell for the last time, and Barnes, with +exultation, stood watching in the wings. She had +triumphed, his little girl; she had won the great, generous +heart of New Orleans. He clapped his hands +furiously, joining in the evidences of approval, and, +when the ovation finally ceased and she approached, +the old manager was so overcome he had not a word +to say. She looked at him questioningly, and he who +had always been her instructor folded her fondly to +his breast.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334' name='page_334'></a>334</span></div> +<p>“I owe it all to you,” she whispered.</p> +<p>“Pooh!” he answered. “You stole fire from +heaven. I am but a theatrical, bombastic, barnstorming +Thespian.”</p> +<p>“Would you spoil me?” she interrupted, tenderly.</p> +<p>“You are your mother over again, my dear! If she +were only here now! But where is Saint-Prosper? +He has not yet congratulated you? He, our good +genius, whose generosity has made all this possible!” +And Barnes half-turned, when she placed a detaining +hand on his arm.</p> +<p>“No, no!”</p> +<p>“Why, my dear, have you and he––”</p> +<p>“Is it not enough that you are pleased?” replied +Constance, hastily, with a glance so shining he forgot +all further remonstrances.</p> +<p>“Pleased!” exclaimed Barnes. “Why, I feel as gay +as Momus! But we’ll sing Te Deum later at the +festive board. Go now and get ready!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335' name='page_335'></a>335</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_LAUGHTER_AND_TEARS' id='CHAPTER_X_LAUGHTER_AND_TEARS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>LAUGHTER AND TEARS</h3> +</div> +<p>A supper was given the company after the performance +by the manager, to which representatives +of the press––artful Barnes!––had been invited. +Of all the merry evenings in the bohemian world, that +was one of the merriest. Next to the young girl sat +the Count de Propriac, his breast covered with a double +row of medals. Of the toasts drunk to Constance, +the manager, poets Straws and Phazma, etc., unfortunately +no record remains. Of the recollections +of the wiry old lady; the impromptu verse of the +rhymsters; the roaring speech of Mr. Barnes; the +song and dainty flower dance by Susan and Kate––only +the bare facts have descended to the chronicler.</p> +<p>So fancy must picture the wreaths of smoke; the +superabundance of flowers, the fragrance of cigars +mingling with the perfume of fading floral beauties; +the pale dark-eyed girl presiding, upon her dusky hair +a crown of laurel, set there, despite her protestations, +by Phazma and Straws; the devotion of the count to +his fair neighbor; the almost superhuman pride of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336' name='page_336'></a>336</span> +noisy Barnes; the attention bestowed by Susan upon +Saint-Prosper, while through his mind wandered the +words of a French song:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Adieu, la cour, adieu les dames;<br /> +Adieu les filles et les femmes––”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Intermixed with this sad refrain the soldier’s +thoughts reverted to the performance, and amidst the +chatter of Susan, he reviewed again and again the details +of that evening. Was this the young girl who +played in school-houses, inns or town halls, he had +asked himself, seated in the rear of the theater? How +coldly critical had been her auditors; some of the +faces about him ironical; the bored, tired faces of men +who had well-nigh drained life’s novelties; the artificially +vivacious faces of women who played at light-heartedness +and gaiety! Yet how free from concern +had she been, as natural and composed as though her +future had not depended upon that night! When she +won an ovation, he had himself forgotten to applaud, +but had sat there, looking from her to the auditors, +to whom she was now bound by ties of admiration +and friendliness.</p> +<p>“Don’t you like her?” a voice next to him had asked.</p> +<p>Like her? He had looked at the man, blankly.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he had replied.</p> +<p>Then the past had seemed to roll between them: the +burning sands; the voices of the troops; the bugle +call! In his brain wild thoughts had surged and +flowed––as they were surging and flowing now.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337' name='page_337'></a>337</span></div> +<p>“Is he not handsome, Constance’s new admirer?” +whispered Susan. “What can he be saying? She +looks so pleased! He is very rich, isn’t he?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know,” answered Saint-Prosper, brusquely.</p> +<p>Again the thoughts surged and surged, and the past +intruded itself! Reaching for his glass, he drank +quickly.</p> +<p>“Don’t you ever feel the effects of wine?” asked the +young woman.</p> +<p>His glance chilled her, it seemed so strange and +steely!</p> +<p>“I believe you are so––so strong you don’t even notice +it,” added Susan, with conviction. “But you +don’t have half as good a time!”</p> +<p>“Perhaps I enjoy myself in my way,” he answered.</p> +<p>“What is your way?” she asked quickly. “You don’t +appear to be wildly hilarious in your pleasures.” And +Susan’s bright eyes rested on him curiously. “But +we were speaking about the count and Constance. +Don’t you think it would be a good match?” she +continued with enthusiasm. “Alas, my titled admirer +got no further than the beginning. But men are +deceivers ever! When they <i>do</i> reach the Songs of +Solomon, they pass on to Exodus!”</p> +<p>“And leave the fair ones to Lamentations,” said +Straws, who had caught her last remarks.</p> +<p>“Or Revelations!” added Phazma.</p> +<p>At the sound of their laughter, Constance looked +coldly their way, until a remark from the count at her +right, and, “As I was saying, my dear,” from the old +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338' name='page_338'></a>338</span> +lady at her left, engrossed the young girl’s attention +once more. But finally the great enemy of joy––the +grim guardian of human pleasure––the reaper whose +iron hands move ever in a circle, symbolical of eternity––finally, +Time reminded Barnes that the hour had +surely arrived when the curtain should descend upon +these festivities. So he roared out a last blithe farewell, +and the guests departed one by one, taking with +them flowers in memory of the occasion, until all had +left save Constance, the count, Saint-Prosper and the +manager. Barnes was talking somewhat incoherently, +holding the soldier by the coat and plunging into successive +anecdotes about stage folk, while Saint-Prosper, +apparently listening, observed the diplomat and +Constance, whose conversation he could overhear.</p> +<p>“As I said to the Royal Infanta of Spain, flattery +flies before truth in your presence, Mademoiselle,” +sighed the count. And then raising her hand to his +lips, “<i>Ah, ma chere Mademoiselle, que je vous adore!</i>” +he whispered.</p> +<p>She withdrew it hastily, and, ogling and gesticulating, +he bowed himself out, followed by the manager.</p> +<p>Leaning against the chair, her figure outlined by +the glow from the crystal chandelier, her face in +shadow, the hand the diplomat had pressed to his lips +resting in the exposed light on the mahogany, the +gaiety went out of her face, and the young girl wearily +brushed the hair from her brow. As if unaware of +the soldier’s presence, she glanced absently at the table +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339' name='page_339'></a>339</span> +in its wrecked glory, and, throwing her lace wrap over +her arm, was moving toward the door, when he spoke.</p> +<p>“Miss Carew!”</p> +<p>She paused, standing with clasped hands before +him, while the scarf slipped from her arm and fell at +her feet.</p> +<p>“May I not also tell you how glad I am––that you +succeeded to-night?”</p> +<p>“I dislike congratulations!” she said, indifferently.</p> +<p>He looked at her quickly, but her eyes expressed +only apathy. In his a sudden gleam of light appeared.</p> +<p>“From me, you mean?” The light became brighter.</p> +<p>She did not answer. His self-control was fast +ebbing.</p> +<p>“You underestimate your favors, if you fancy they +are easily forgotten!”</p> +<p>A crimson flush extended to her brow; the unconcern +died out of her eyes.</p> +<p>“I do not understand,” she answered, slowly.</p> +<p>“When a woman says ‘I do not understand,’ she +means ‘I wish to forget’.”</p> +<p>Her wide-open glance flashed ominously to his; +she clasped and unclasped her fingers.</p> +<p>“Forget what?” she said, coldly.</p> +<p>“Nameless nothings!” he returned. “A smile––a +glance––nothing to you, perhaps, but”––the set expression +of his face giving way to abrupt passion!––“everything +to me! Perhaps I had not meant to say this, +but it seems as though the words must come out to-night. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340' name='page_340'></a>340</span> +It may be”––his voice vibrating with strange +earnestness––“for once I want to be myself. For +weeks we have been––friends––and then suddenly +you begin to treat me––how? As though I no longer +existed! Why did you deceive me––let me drift on? +Because I was mute, did you think I was blind? Why +did I join the strollers––the land baron accused me of +following you across the country. He was right; I +was following you. I would not confess it to myself +before. But I confess it now! It was a fool’s +paradise,” he ended, bitterly.</p> +<p>She shrank back before his vehement words; something +within her appeared violated; as though his +plea had penetrated the sanctity of her reserve.</p> +<p>“Would it not be well to say nothing about deception?” +she replied, and her dark eyes swept his face. +Then, turning from him abruptly, she stepped to the +window, and, drawing aside the lace curtains mechanically, +looked out.</p> +<p>The city below was yet teeming with life, lights +gleaming everywhere and shadowy figures passing. +Suddenly out of the darkness came a company of +soldiers who had just landed, marching through the +streets toward the camping ground and singing as +they went.</p> +<p>The chorus, like a mighty breath of patriotism, +filled her heart to overflowing. It seemed as though +she had heard it for the first time; had never before +felt its potency. All the tragedy of war swept before +her; all that inspiring, strange affection for country, +kith and kin, suddenly exalted her.</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-340.jpg' alt='' title='' width='364' height='556' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341' name='page_341'></a>341</span></div> +<p>Above the tramping of feet, the melody rose and fell +on the distant air, dying away as the figures vanished +in the gloom. With its love of native land, its expression +of the unity of comradeship and ties stronger than +death, the song appeared to challenge an answer; +and, when the music ceased, and only the drum-beats +still seemed to make themselves heard, she raised her +head without moving from her position and looked +at him to see if he understood. But though she +glanced at him, she hardly saw him. In her mind +was another picture––the betrayed garrison; the soldiers +slain!––and the horror of it threw such a film +over her gaze that he became as a figure in some distressing +dream.</p> +<p>An inkling of her meaning––the mute questioning +of her eyes––the dread evoked by that revolting +vision of the past––were reflected in his glance.</p> +<p>“Deceived you?” he began, and his voice, to her, +sounded as from afar. “How––what––”</p> +<p>“Must it be––could it be put into words?”</p> +<p>The deepest shadows dwelt in her eyes; shadows he +could not penetrate, although he still doggedly, yet +apprehensively, regarded her! Watching her, his +brow grew darker.</p> +<p>“Why not?” he continued, stubbornly.</p> +<p>Why? The dimness that had obscured her vision +lifted. Now she saw him very plainly, indeed; tall +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342' name='page_342'></a>342</span> +and powerful; his face, harsh, intense, as though by +the vigor of physical and mental force he would override +any charge or imputation.</p> +<p>Why? She drew herself up, as he quickly searched +her eyes, bright with the passions that stirred her +breast.</p> +<p>“You told me part of your story that day in the +property wagon,” she began, repugnance, scorn and +anger all mingling in her tones. “Why did you not +tell me the rest?”</p> +<p>His glance, too, flashed. Would he still profess +not to understand her? His lips parted; he spoke +with an effort.</p> +<p>“The rest?” he said, his brow lowering.</p> +<p>“Yes,” she answered quickly; “the stain upon your +name!––the garrison sold!––the soldiers killed!––murdered!––”</p> +<p>She had turned to him swiftly, fiercely, with her last +words, but before the look of sudden shame and dread +on his face, her eyes abruptly fell as though a portion +of his dishonor had inexplicably touched her. He +made no attempt to defend himself––motionless he +stood an instant––then, without a word, he moved +away. At the threshold he paused, but she did not +look up––could not! A moment; an eternity!</p> +<p>“Why don’t you go?” she cried. “Why don’t you +go?”</p> +<p>The door opened, closed; she was alone.</p> +<p>Pale as the dying lilies on the table, she stepped +toward the threshold, when Barnes, chipper and still +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343' name='page_343'></a>343</span> +indefatigable, entered by another door. He was too +inspired with festal intoxication to observe her agitation.</p> +<p>“What, my dear!” he exclaimed cheerily. “Has +he gone? Did you make up your little differences? +Did you settle your quarrel before he leaves for Mexico?”</p> +<p>“For Mexico!” she repeated, mechanically.</p> +<p>“Of course. He has his commission in the army +and leaves early in the morning. But you look tired, +my dear. I declare you are quite pale”––pinching her +cheek––“rest will bring back the roses, though.”</p> +<p>Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck.</p> +<p>“Why, why, what’s this?” he said, patting her head.</p> +<p>“I only care for you,” she whispered. “My dear! +My dear!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344' name='page_344'></a>344</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_THE_PASSING_OF_A_FINE_GENTLEMAN' id='CHAPTER_XI_THE_PASSING_OF_A_FINE_GENTLEMAN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN</h3> +</div> +<p>“‘Perhaps she will fail, and that will amuse me,’” +ruminated François on his high seat next to the coachman, +repeating the marquis’ words, as they drove +home after the nobleman’s precipitous retreat from +the theater. “Well, he didn’t look as though he had +been particularly amused. But no wonder he was +startled! It even”––reviewing the impression first +made upon him at sight of the actress––“sent a shiver +through me!” Here the carriage drew up sharply +before the marquis’ home, and François, hastily +alighting, threw open the door.</p> +<p>“Eh? What? Are we here?” muttered the marquis, +starting from the corner where he had been reclining.</p> +<p>He arose with some difficulty; traversed the sidewalk +and the shell-strewn path to the house which +loomed darkly before them; paused at the foot of the +stairs where he breathed heavily, complaining of the +oppressiveness of the air; and finally, with the assistance +of the valet, found himself once more in his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345' name='page_345'></a>345</span> +room, the sick chamber he had grown to detest! +Here alone––having dismissed the servant as soon as +possible––he moved restlessly to and fro, pondering +deeply. Since the moment when he had seen and +recognized his daughter, all the buoyancy which had +given his wasted figure a sort of galvanic vitality +seemed to vanish. It was like the exhaustion of a +battery, the collapse of the sustaining power.</p> +<p>“That resemblance can not be coincidence!” he +thought. “Oh, errors of the past, you come home in +our old age when the limbs are faltering and life is +failing!”</p> +<p>Going to the <i>secrétaire</i>, he took out a box that +had not been opened in years, and, with trembling +fingers, turned over many papers. He shivered, and, +thinking it was cold, stirred the fire. Returning to +the secretary, he took from the box a package +tied with a ribbon still, after the lapse of these +many years, slightly fragrant, and he breathed that +perfume, so faint, so subtle, while recollections smote +him like a knife.</p> +<p>Its scent was familiar to him; it seemed to bring +life to the dead, and for the moment in his mind’s +eye he saw her glowing figure, the love of his youth, +with flashing, revengeful eyes and noble mien. He +cowered over the desk, as if shrinking from an avenging +spirit, while the perfume, like opium, filled his +brain with strange fantasies. He strove to drown remembrance, +but some force––it seemed not his own!––drove +him irresistibly to untie that ribbon, to scrutinize +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346' name='page_346'></a>346</span> +many old theater programs and to gaze upon a +miniature in ivory depicting a woman in the loveliness +of her charms, but whose striking likeness to +the young actress he had just seen filled his heart +with strange fear. Some power––surely it could not +have been his will which rebelled strenuously!––impelled +him to open those letters and to read them +word for word. The tenderness of the epistles fell +on his heart as though to scorch it, and he quivered +like a guilty wretch. His eyes were fascinated by +these words in her last letter: “Should you desert +me and your unborn child, your end will be miserable. +As I believe in retribution, I am sure you will reap as +you have sown.”</p> +<p>Suddenly the reader in a frenzy threw the letter to +the floor and trampled on it. He regarded the face +in the miniature with fear and hatred, and dashing it +into the drawer, called down maledictions on her. +He ceased abruptly, weak and wavering.</p> +<p>“I am going insane,” he said, laughing harshly. +“Fool! To let that woman’s memory disturb me. +So much for her dire prophecy!” And he snapped +his fingers and dropped the letter in the fire.</p> +<p>“What can her curse avail?” he said aloud. “She +is gone, turned to ashes like that paper and there is +no life after this one. All then is nothing––emptiness––a +blank! I need rest. It is this cursed dyspepsia +which has made me nervous. Something to compose +me, and then to bed!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347' name='page_347'></a>347</span></div> +<p>In spite of soothing powders, however, he passed +a restless night and arose unrefreshed, but ordered +his valet to bring one of his lightest suits, and, having +dressed, he set a white flower upon his coat, while +the servant proceeded to apply various pigments to +the wrinkled face, until it took on a mocking semblance +to the countenance of a man fifteen years +younger. The marquis leered at himself in the pier-glass +and assumed a jauntiness of demeanor he was +far from feeling.</p> +<p>“I do not look tired or worried, François?”</p> +<p>“Not at all, my lord,” replied the obsequious valet. +“I never saw you, my lord, appear so young and well.”</p> +<p>“Beneath the surface, François, there is age and +weakness,” answered the marquis in a melancholy +tone.</p> +<p>“It is but a passing indisposition, my lord,” asserted +the servant, soothingly.</p> +<p>“Perhaps. But, François”––peering around––“as +I look over my shoulder, do you know what I see?”</p> +<p>The almost hideous expression of the roué’s face +alarmed the servant.</p> +<p>“No, my lord, what is it?”</p> +<p>“A figure stands there in black and is touching me. +It is the spirit of death, François. You can not see +it, but there it is––”</p> +<p>“My lord, you speak wildly.”</p> +<p>“I have seen some strange things, François. The +dead have arisen. And I have received my warning. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348' name='page_348'></a>348</span> +Soon I shall join those dark specters which once gaily +traversed this bright world. A little brandy and soda, +François.”</p> +<p>The servant brought it to him. The marquis leered +awfully over his shoulder once more. “Your health, +my guest!” he exclaimed, laughing harshly. “But +my hat, François; I have business to perform, important +business!”</p> +<p>He ambled out of the room. On the street he +was all politeness, removing his hat to a dark brunette +who rolled by in her carriage, and pausing to +chat with another representative of the sex of the +blond type. Then he gaily sauntered on, until reaching +the theater he stopped and made a number of inquiries. +Who was the manager of Constance Carew? +Where was he to be found? “At the St. Charles +hotel?” He was obliged to Monsieur, the ticket-seller, +and wished him good-day.</p> +<p>Entering the hotel, he sent his card to Barnes, requesting +an interview, and the manager, overcome +by the honor of such a visit, responded with alacrity. +The customary formalities over, the nobleman congratulated +Barnes on the performance and led the +conversation to the young actress.</p> +<p>“Pardon my curiosity,” he said, with apparent carelessness, +“but I’m sure I remember an actress of the +same name in London––many years ago?”</p> +<p>“Her mother, undoubtedly,” replied the manager, +proudly.</p> +<p>“She was married, was she not, to––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349' name='page_349'></a>349</span></div> +<p>“A scoundrel who took her for his wife in one +church and repudiated the ties through another denomination!”</p> +<p>“Ah, a French-English marriage!” said the marquis, +blandly. “An old device! But what was this +lover’s name?”</p> +<p>“This husband’s, my lord!”</p> +<p>“Lover or husband, I fancy it is all the same to her +now,” sneered the caller. “She has passed the point +where reputation matters.”</p> +<p>“Her reputation is my concern, Monsieur le Marquis!”</p> +<p>“You knew her?” asked the nobleman, as though +the conversation wearied him. “And she was faithful +to his memory? No scandals––none of those little +affairs women of her class are prone to? There”––as +Barnes started up indignantly––“spare me your +reproaches! I’m too feeble to quarrel. Besides, what +is it to me? I was only curious about her––that is +all! But she never spoke the name of her husband?”</p> +<p>“Not even to her own child!”</p> +<p>“She does not know her father’s name?” repeated +the marquis. “But I thank you; Mademoiselle Constance +is so charming I must needs call to ask if she +were related to the London actress! Good-day, Monsieur! +You are severe on the lover. Was it not the +fashion of the day for the actresses to take lovers, or +for the fops to have an opera girl or a comedienne? +Did your most popular performers disdain such diversions?” +he sneered. “<i>Pardie</i>, the world has suddenly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350' name='page_350'></a>350</span> +become moral! A gentleman can no longer, it would +seem, indulge in gentlemanly follies.”</p> +<p>Mumbling about the decadence of fashion, the marquis +departed, his manner so strange the manager +gazed after him in surprise.</p> +<p>With no thought of direction, his lips moving, talking +to himself in adynamic fashion, the nobleman +walked mechanically on until he reached the great +cathedral. The organ was rolling and voices arose +sweet as those of seraphim. He hesitated at the portal +and then laughed to himself. “Well has Voltaire +said: ‘Pleasure has its time; so, too, has wisdom. +Make love in thy youth, and in old age, attend to thy +salvation.’” He repeated the latter words, but, although +he paused at the threshold and listened, he +did not enter.</p> +<p>As he stood there, uncertain and trembling, a figure +replete with youth and vigor approached, and, glancing +at her, an exclamation escaped him that caused her +to pause and turn.</p> +<p>“You are not well,” she said, solicitously. “Can +I help you?”</p> +<p>“It is nothing, nothing!” answered the marquis, +ashy pale at the sight of her and the proximity of that +face which regarded him with womanly sympathy. +“Go away.”</p> +<p>“At least, let me assist you. You were going to +the cathedral? Come!”</p> +<p>His hand rested upon her strong young arm; he felt +himself too weak to resist, so, together––father and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351' name='page_351'></a>351</span> +daughter!––they entered the cathedral. Side by side +they knelt––he to keep up the farce, fearing to undeceive +her––while yet only mocking words came to +the old man’s heart, as the bitterness of the situation +overwhelmed him. She was a daughter in whom a +prince might have found pride, but he remained there +mute, not daring to speak, experiencing all the tortures +of remorse and retribution. Of what avail had +been ambition? How had it overleaped content and +ease of mind! Into what a nest of stings and thorns +his loveless marriage had plunged him! And now +but the black shadow remained; he walked in the darkness +of unending isolation. So he should continue +to walk straight to the door of death.</p> +<p>He scarcely heard the organ or the voice of the +priest. The high altar, with its many symbols, suggested +the thousands that had worshiped there and +gone away comforted. Here was abundant testimony +of the blessings of divine mercy in the numerous +costly gifts and in the discarded crutches, and here +faith had manifested itself for generations.</p> +<p>The marquis’ throat was hoarse; he could have +spoken no words if he had tried. He laughed in his +heart at the gifts of the grateful ones; those crosses +of ivory and handsome lamps were but symbols of +barbarism and superstition. The tablets, with their +inscriptions, <i>“Merci”</i> and <i>“Ex voto,”</i> were to him +absurd, and he gibed at the simple credulity of the +people who could thus be misled. All these evidences +of thanksgiving were but cumulative testimony that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352' name='page_352'></a>352</span> +men and women are like little children, who will be +pleased over fairy tales or frightened over ghost +stories. The promise of paradise, but the fairy tale +told by priests to men and women; the threats of punishment, +the ghost stories to awe them! A malicious +delight crept into his diseased imagination that he +alone in the cathedral possessed the extreme divination, +enabling him to perceive the emptiness of all +these signs and symbols. He labored in a fever of +mental excitement and was only recalled to himself +as his glance once more rested upon the young girl.</p> +<p>He became dimly conscious that people were moving +past them, and he suddenly longed to cry out, +“My child!” but he fought down the impulse. There +could be no turning back now at the eleventh hour; +the marquis was a philosopher, and did not believe +that, in a twinkling of an eye, a man may set behind +all that has transpired and regard it as naught. Something +within held him from speaking to her––perhaps +his own inherent sense of the consistency of things; +his appreciation of the legitimate finale to a miserable +order of circumstances! Even pride forbade departure +from long-established habit. But while this +train of thought passed through his mind, he realized +she was regarding him with clear, compassionate +eyes, and he heard her voice:</p> +<p>“Shall we go now? The services are over.”</p> +<p>He obeyed without question.</p> +<p>“Over!”</p> +<p>Those moments by her side would never return! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353' name='page_353'></a>353</span> +They were about to part to meet no more on earth. He +leaned heavily upon her arm and his steps were faltering. +Out into the warm sunshine they passed, the +light revealing more plainly the ravages of time in +his face.</p> +<p>“You must take a carriage,” she said to the old +man.</p> +<p>“Thank you, thank you,” he replied. “Leave me +here on the bench. I shall soon be myself. I am +only a little weak. You are good to an old man. +May I not”––asking solely for the pleasure of hearing +her speak––“may I not know the name of one +who is kind to an old man?”</p> +<p>“My name is Constance Carew.”</p> +<p>He shook as with the palsy. “A good name, a +good name!” he repeated. “I remember years ago +another of that name––an actress in London. A very +beautiful woman, and good! But even she had her detractors +and none more bitter than the man who +wronged her. You––you resemble her! But there, +don’t let me detain you. I shall do very well here. +You are busy, I dare say.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I should be at rehearsal,” she replied regretfully.</p> +<p>“At rehearsal!” he repeated. “Yes!––yes!––. But +the stage is no place for you!” he added, suddenly. +“You should leave it––leave it!”</p> +<p>She looked at him wonderingly. “Is there nothing +more I can do for you?”</p> +<p>“Nothing! Nothing! Except––no, nothing!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354' name='page_354'></a>354</span></div> +<p>“You were about to ask something?” she observed +with more sympathy.</p> +<p>“If you would not think me presuming––if you +would not deem it an offense––you remind me of one +I loved and lost––it is so long ago since I felt her +kiss for the last time––I am so near the grave––”</p> +<p>With tears in her eyes, she bent her head and her +fresh young lips just touched his withered brow.</p> +<p>“Good-by,” she said. “I am so sorry for you!” +And she was gone, leaving him sitting there motionless +as though life had departed.</p> +<p>A rattling cab that clattered noisily past the cabildo +and calaboza, and swung around the square, aroused +the marquis. He arose, stopped the driver, and entered +the rickety vehicle.</p> +<p>“The law office of Marks and Culver,” said the +marquis.</p> +<p>The man lashed his horse and the attenuated quadruped +flew like a winged Pegasus, soon drawing up +before the attorneys’ office. Fortunately Culver was +in, and, although averse to business on any day––thinking +more of his court-yard and his fountain +than of his law books––this botanist-solicitor made +shift to comply with the marquis’ instructions and +reluctantly earned a modest fee. He even refused to +express surprise at my lord’s story; one wife in London, +another in Paris; why, many a southern gentleman +had two families––quadroons being plentiful, +why not? Culver unobtrusively yawned, and, with +fine courtesy, bowed the marquis out.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355' name='page_355'></a>355</span></div> +<p>Slowly the latter retraced his steps to his home; +his feet were heavy as lead; his smile was forced; +he glanced frequently over his shoulder, possessed by +a strange fantasy.</p> +<p>“I think I will lie down a little,” he said to his valet. +“In this easy chair; that will do. I am feeling well; +only tired. How that mass is repeated in my mind! +That is because it is Palestrina, François; not because +it is a vehicle to salvation, employed by the gibbering +priests. Never let your heart rule your head, +boy. Don’t mistake anything for reality. ‘What +have you seen in your travels?’ was asked of Sage +Evemere. ‘Follies!’ was the reply. ‘Follies, follies +everywhere!’ We never live; we are always in the +expectation of living.”</p> +<p>He made an effort to smile which was little more +than a grimace.</p> +<p>“A cigar, François!”</p> +<p>“My lord, are you well?––”</p> +<p>The marquis flew into a rage and the valet placed +an imported weed in his master’s hand.</p> +<p>“A light, François!”</p> +<p>The valet obeyed. For a moment the strong cigar +seemed to soothe the old man, although his hand +shook like an aspen as he held it.</p> +<p>“Now, bring me my Voltaire,” commanded the +marquis. “The volume on the table, idiot! Ah! here +is what I wish: ‘It takes twenty years to bring man +from the state of embryo, and from that of a mere +criminal, as he is in his first infancy, to the point when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356' name='page_356'></a>356</span> +his reason begins to dawn. It has taken thirty centuries +to know his structure; it would take eternity +to know something of the soul; it takes but an instant +to kill him.’ But an instant; but an instant!” +he repeated.</p> +<p>He puffed feebly at the cigar.</p> +<p>“It is cold here, François.”</p> +<p>The servant consulted the thermometer.</p> +<p>“It is five degrees warmer than you are accustomed +to, my lord,” he replied.</p> +<p>“Bring me the thermometer,” commanded the old +man. “You should not lie, François. It is a bad +fault in servants. Leave it to your masters; it is a +polite vice. The privilege of the world’s potentates, +diplomats and great people. Never fall into the rut +of lying, François, or you will soon outlive your usefulness +as a valet.”</p> +<p>“You can see that I speak the truth, my lord,” was +the response, as calm as ever, for nothing disturbed +or ruffled this ideal servant.</p> +<p>He held out the thermometer for the marquis’ inspection +and the latter examined it carefully. The +cigar fell from his fingers to the floor. The attentive +valet picked it up and threw it into the grate.</p> +<p>“I believe, François,” stammered the marquis, +“that the fault lies with me. It is I––I, who am growing +cold like death.”</p> +<p>“Yes, my lord,” answered the calm and imperturbable +servant.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357' name='page_357'></a>357</span></div> +<p>“‘Yes?’ you blockhead!” shrieked the master. “Do +you know what you are saying?”</p> +<p>“Well, no, then, my lord,” responded the unmoved +valet.</p> +<p>“Yes and no!” shouted the marquis in a voice that +was wildly discordant. “What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“Whatever my lord pleases,” was the quiet response.</p> +<p>“<i>Mon Dieu</i>! I’ll discharge you.”</p> +<p>The servant only smiled.</p> +<p>“Why did you smile?”</p> +<p>“Oh, my lord––”</p> +<p>“Was it not that you thought it a good joke for a +dying man to discharge his servant?”</p> +<p>“My lord is quick to catch the humorous side of +anything,” returned François.</p> +<p>“Begone, idiot! You are waiting for my death to +discharge you. I can see it in your eyes. Yet stay, +François, for, if you leave me, I shall be alone. You +will not leave me?”</p> +<p>“As my lord desires,” was François’ response.</p> +<p>“I imagine I should feel better if I had my footbath.”</p> +<p>The servant removed the shoes and silken stockings +from his master’s feet and propped him up in a +chair, throwing a blanket over his shoulders and +heaping more wood upon the fire in the grate.</p> +<p>“More fire, you idiot!” cried the marquis, peevishly. +“Do you not see that I am freezing?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358' name='page_358'></a>358</span></div> +<p>“It is ten degrees above the temperature my lord +always ordered,” retorted François, coolly.</p> +<p>“Ten degrees! Oh, you wish to remind me that +the end is approaching? You do not dare deny it!” +The valet shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“But I am not gone yet.” He wagged his head +cunningly and began to laugh to himself. His mind +apparently rambled, for he started to chant a French +love song in a voice that had long since lost its capacity +for a sustained tone. The words were distinct, +although the melody was broken, and the spectacle +was gruesome enough. As he concluded he +looked at the valet as if for approbation and began +to mumble about his early love affairs.</p> +<p>“Bah, François,” he said shrilly, “I’ll be up to-morrow +as gay as ever. <i>Vive l’amour! vive la joie!</i> +It was a merry life we led, eh, François?”</p> +<p>“Merry indeed, my lord.”</p> +<p>“It kept you busy, François. There was the little +peasant girl on the Rhine. What flaxen hair she had +and eyes like the sky! Yet a word of praise––a little +flattery––”</p> +<p>“My lord was irresistible,” said the valet with mild +sarcasm.</p> +<p>“Let me see, François, what became of her?”</p> +<p>“She drowned herself in the river.”</p> +<p>“That is true. I had forgotten. Well, life is measured +by pleasures, not by years, and I was the prince +of coxcombs. Up at ten o’clock; no sooner on account +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359' name='page_359'></a>359</span> +of the complexion; then visits from the tradespeople +and a drive in the park to look at the ladies. +It was there I used to meet the English actress. +’Twas there, with her, I vowed the park was a garden +of Eden! What a scene, when my barrister +tried to settle the case! Fortunately a marriage in +England was not a marriage in France. I saw her +last night, François”––with an insane look––“in the +flesh and blood; as life-like as the night before we +took the stage for Brighton!” Suddenly he shrieked +and a look of terror replaced the vain, simpering expression.</p> +<p>“There, François!” Glancing with awe behind him. +And truly there stood a dark shadow; a gruesome +presence. His face became distorted and he lapsed +into unconsciousness.</p> +<p>The valet gazed at him with indifference. Then he +went to an inner room and brought a valise which he +began packing carefully and methodically. After he +had completed this operation he approached the dressing +table and took up a magnificent jeweled watch, +which he examined for a moment before thrusting +it into his pocket. A snuff box, set with diamonds, +and several rings followed. François with the same +deliberation opened a drawer and took out a small +box which he tried to open, and, failing, forced the +lid with the poker. At this, my lord opened his eyes, +and, in a weak voice, for his strength had nearly deserted +him, demanded:</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360' name='page_360'></a>360</span></div> +<p>“What are you doing, François?”</p> +<p>“Robbing you, my lord,” was the slow and dignified +response.</p> +<p>The marquis’ eyes gleamed with rage. He endeavored +to call out, but his voice failed him and he +fell back, trembling and overcome.</p> +<p>“Thief! Ingrate!” he hissed, hoarsely.</p> +<p>“I beg you not to excite yourself, my lord,” said +the stately valet. “You are already very weak and +it will hasten the end.”</p> +<p>“Is this the way you repay me?”</p> +<p>“My lord will not need these things soon.”</p> +<p>“Have you no gratitude?” stammered the marquis, +whose physical and mental condition was truly pitiable.</p> +<p>“Gratitude for having been called ‘idiot,’ ‘dog,’ and +‘blockhead’ nearly all my life! I am somewhat lacking +in that quality, I fear.”</p> +<p>“Is there no shame in you?”</p> +<p>“Shame?” repeated François, as he proceeded to +ransack another drawer. “There might have been +before I went into your service, my lord. Yes; once +I felt shame for you. It was years ago, in London, +when you deserted your beautiful wife. When I saw +how she worshiped you and what a noble woman she +was, I confess I felt ashamed that I served one of the +greatest blackguards in Europe––”</p> +<p>“Oh, you scoundrel––” exclaimed the marquis, his +face becoming a ghastly hue.</p> +<p>“Be calm, my lord. You really are in need of all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361' name='page_361'></a>361</span> +your energy. For years I have submitted to your +shameful service. I have been at the beck and call +of one of the greatest roués and villains in France. +Years of such association would somewhat soil any +nature. Another thing, my lord, I must tell you, +since you and I are settling our last accounts. For +years I have endured your miserable King Louis +Philippe. A king? Bah! He fled from the back +door! A coward, who shaved his whiskers for a disguise.”</p> +<p>“No more, rascal!”</p> +<p>“Rascal yourself, you worn-out, driveling breath +of corruption! It is so pleasant to exercise a gentleman’s +privilege of invective! Ah, here is the purse. +<i>Au revoir</i>, my lord. A pleasant dissolution!”</p> +<p>But by this time the marquis was speechless, and +François, taking the valise in hand, deferentially left +the room. He locked the door behind him and thrust +the key into his pocket.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362' name='page_362'></a>362</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_IN_THE_OLD_CEMETERY' id='CHAPTER_XII_IN_THE_OLD_CEMETERY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>IN THE OLD CEMETERY</h3> +</div> +<p>The engagement at the new St. Charles was both +memorable and profitable, The Picayune, before the +fifties, an audacious sheet, being especially kind to +the players. “This paper,” said a writer of the +day, “was as full of witticisms as one of Thackeray’s +dreams after a light supper, and, as for Editors +Straws and Phazma, they are poets who eat, +talk and think rhyme.” The Picayune contained a +poem addressed to Miss Carew, written by Straws in +a cozy nook in the veranda at the Lake End, with his +absinthe before him and the remains of an elaborate +repast about him. It was then quite the fashion to +write stanzas to actresses; the world was not so prosaic +as it is now, and even the president of the United +States, John Quincy Adams, penned graceful verses +to a fair ward of Thalia.</p> +<p>One noon, a few days after the opening performance, +several members of the company were late for +rehearsal and Barnes strode impatiently to and fro, +glancing at his watch and frowning darkly. To +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363' name='page_363'></a>363</span> +avenge himself for the remissness of the players, he +roared at the stage carpenters who were constructing +a balcony and to the supers who were shifting flats +to the scenery room. The light from an open door +at the back of the stage dimly illumined the scene; +overhead, in the flies, was intense darkness; while in +front, the auditorium yawned like a chasm, in no wise +suggestive of the brilliant transformation at night.</p> +<p>“Ugh!” said Susan, standing in one of the entrances. +“It is like playing to ghosts! Fancy performing +to an audience of specters! Perhaps the +phantoms of the past really do assemble in their old +places on occasions like this. Only you can’t hear +them applaud or laugh.”</p> +<p>“Are you looking for admirers among ghosts?” remarked +Hawkes, ironically.</p> +<p>“Don’t,” she returned, with a little shiver.</p> +<p>“So, ladies and gentlemen, you are all here at last?” +exclaimed Barnes, interrupting this cheerful conversation. +“Some of you are late again to-day. It must +not happen again. Go to Victor’s, Moreau’s, or Miguel’s, +as much as you please. If you have a headache +or a heartache in consequence, that is your own +affair, but I am not to be kept waiting the next day.”</p> +<p>“Victor’s, indeed!” retorted the elastic old lady. +“As if––”</p> +<p>“No one supposed, Madam, that at your age”––began +the manager.</p> +<p>“At my age! If you think––”</p> +<p>“Are you all ready?” interrupted Barnes, hastily, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364' name='page_364'></a>364</span> +knowing he would be worsted in any argument with +this veteran player. “Then clear the stage! Act +first!” And the rehearsal began.</p> +<p>If the audience were specters, the performers +moved, apparently without rhyme or reason, mere +shadows on the dimly lighted stage; enacting some +semblance to scenes of mortal life; their jests and +gibes, unnatural in that comparatively empty place; +their voices, out of the semi-darkness, like those of +spirits rehearsing acts of long ago. In the evening +it would all become an amusing, bright-colored reality, +but now the barrenness of the scenes was forcibly +apparent.</p> +<p>“That will do for to-day,” said the manager at the +conclusion of the last act. “To-morrow, ladies and +gentlemen, at the same time. And any one who is +late––will be fined!”</p> +<p>“Changing the piece every few nights is all work +and no play,” complained Susan.</p> +<p>“It will keep you out of mischief, my dear,” replied +Barnes, gathering up his manuscripts.</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know about that!” returned Miss +Susan, with a defiant toss of the head, as she moved +toward the dressing-room where they had left their +wraps. It was a small apartment, fairly bright and +cheery, with here and there a portrait against the +wall. Above the dressing-table hung a mirror, diamond-scratched +with hieroglyphic scrawls, among +which could be discerned a transfixed heart, spitted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365' name='page_365'></a>365</span> +like a lark on an arrow, and an etching of Lady Gay +Spanker, with cork-screw curls. Taglioni, in pencil +caricature, her limbs “divinely slender,” gyrated on +her toes in reckless abandon above this mute record +of names now forgotten.</p> +<p>“What lovely roses, Constance!” exclaimed Susan, +as she entered, bending over a large bouquet on one +of the chairs. “From the count, I presume?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” indifferently answered the young girl, who +was adjusting her hat before the mirror.</p> +<p>“How attentive he is!” cooed Susan, her tones +floating in a higher register. “Poor man! Enjoy +yourself while you may, my dear,” she went on. +“When youth is gone, what is left? Women should +sow their wild oats as well as men. I don’t call them +wild oats, though, but paradisaical oats. The Elysian +fields are strewn with them.”</p> +<p>As she spoke, her glance swept her companion +searchingly, and, in that brief scrutiny, Susan observed +with inward complacency how pale the other +was, and how listless her manner! Their common +secret, however, made Susan’s outward demeanor +sweetly solicitous and gently sympathetic. Her mind, +passing in rapid review over recent events, dwelt not +without certain satisfaction upon results. True, every +night she was still forced to witness Constance’s +success, which of itself was wormwood and gall to +Susan, to stand in the wings and listen to the hateful +applause; but the conviction that the sweets of popular +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366' name='page_366'></a>366</span> +favor brought not what they were expected to +bring, was, in a way, an antidote to Susan’s dissatisfaction.</p> +<p>A little knowledge is a dangerous thing and can +sometimes be made annoying; in Susan’s case it was +a weapon sharpened with honeyed phrase and consolatory +bearing, for she was not slow to discover +nor to avail herself of the irritating power this knowledge +gave her. Constance’s pride and reticence, however, +made it difficult for Susan to discern when her +shafts went true. Moreover, although harboring no +suspicion of Susan’s dissimulation, she instinctively +held aloof from her and remained coldly unresponsive. +Perhaps in the depths of Susan’s past lurked +something indefinable which threw its shadow between +them, an inscrutable impediment; and her inability +to penetrate the young actress’ reserve, however +she might wound her, awakened Susan’s resentment. +But she was too world-wise to display her irritation. +She even smiled sweetly now, as confidante to +confidante, and, turning to her impulsively, said:</p> +<p>“Let me help you on with your cloak, dear?”</p> +<p>Out of the quiet, deserted theater, isolated from +external din, to the busy streets, where drays went +thundering by, and industry manifested itself in resounding +clatter, was a sudden, but not altogether +unwelcome, change to Constance. Without waiting +for the manager, who paused at the rear entrance to +impress his final instructions upon a stolid-looking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367' name='page_367'></a>367</span> +property-man, she turned quickly into the noisy thoroughfares.</p> +<p>On and on her restlessness led her, conscious of the +clangor of vehicles and voices and yet remote from +them; past those picturesque suggestions of the one-time +Spanish rulers in which the antiquarian could +detect evidence of remote Oriental infusion; past the +silken seductions of shops, where ladies swarmed and +hummed like bees around the luscious hive; past the +idlers’ resorts, from whence came the rat-a-tat of +clinking billiard balls and the louder rumble of +falling ten-pins.</p> +<p>In a window of one of these places, a club with +a reputation for exclusiveness, a young man was +seated, newspaper in hand, a cup of black coffee on a +small table before him, and the end of a cigar smoking +on the tray where he had placed it. With a yawn, +he had just thrown aside the paper and was reaching +for the thick, dark beverage––his hand thin and nervous––when, +glancing without, he caught sight of the +actress in the crowd. Obeying a sudden impulse, he +arose, picking up his hat which lay on a chair beside +him.</p> +<p>“Yo’ order am ready in a moment, Mr. Mauville,” +said a colored servant, hurrying toward the land +baron as the latter was leaving.</p> +<p>“I’ve changed my mind and don’t want it,” replied +the other curtly.</p> +<p>And sauntering down the steps of the club with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368' name='page_368'></a>368</span> +ill-concealed impatience, he turned in the direction +the young girl had taken, keeping her retreating figure +in view; now, so near her in the crowded street, +he could almost touch her; then, as they left the devious +ways, more distant, but ever with his eyes bent +upon her. He had almost spoken, when in the throng +he approached within arm’s length, but something––he +knew not what––restrained him, and a press of +people separated them. Only for a moment, and +then he continued the questionable pleasure of following +her.</p> +<p>Had she turned, she would probably have seen her +pursuer, but absorbed in thought, she continued +on her way, unconscious of his presence. On and on +she hurried, until she reached the tranquil outskirts +and lingered before the gate of one of the cemeteries. +At the same time the land baron slackened his footsteps, +hesitating whether to advance or turn back. +After a moment’s indecision, she entered the cemetery; +her figure, receding in the distance, was becoming +more and more indistinct, when he started forward +quickly and also passed through the gate.</p> +<p>The annual festival of the dead, following All +Saint’s day, was being observed in the burial ground. +This commemoration of those who have departed in +the communion––described by Tertullian in the second +century as an “apostolic tradition,” so old was +the sacrifice!––was celebrated with much pomp and +variety in the Crescent City. In the vicinity of the +cemetery gathered many colored <i>marchandes</i>, their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369' name='page_369'></a>369</span> +heads and shoulders draped in shawls and fichus of +bright, diversified hues; before them, perambulating +booths with baskets of molasses candy or <i>pain-patate</i>. +Women, dressed in mourning, bore to the tomb flowers +and plants, trays of images, wreaths, crosses, anchors +of dried immortelles and artificial roses. Some +were accompanied by priests and acolytes with censers, +the former intoning the service:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Fidelium Deus omnium conditor––</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>A solemn peace fell upon the young girl as she entered +and she seemed to leave behind her all disturbing +emotions, finding refuge in the supreme tranquillity +of this ancient city of the dead. She was +surrounded by a resigned grief, a sorrow so dignified +that it did not clash with the sweeter influences of +nature. The monotonous sound of the words of the +priests harmonized with the scene. The tongue of a +nation that had been resolved into the elements was +fitting in this place, where time and desolation had +left their imprint in discolored marble, inscriptions +almost effaced, and clambering vines.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>––Animabus famulorum––</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>To many the words so mournfully intoned brought +solace and surcease from sorrow. The sisters of charity +moved among the throng with grave, pale faces, +mere shadows of their earthly selves, as though they +had undergone the first stage of the great metamorphosis +which is promised. To them, who had already +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370' name='page_370'></a>370</span> +buried health, vitality and passion, was not +this chant to the dead, this strange intoning of words, +sweeter than the lullaby crooned by a nurse to a child, +more stirring than the patriotic hymn to a soldier, +and fraught with more fervor than the romantic +dream of a lover?</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Ut indulgentiam, quam semper optaverunt––</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>The little orphan children heard and heeded no +more than the butterfly which lighted upon the engraven +words, “Dust to dust,” and poised gracefully, +as it bathed in the sunshine, stretching its wings in +wantonness of beauty.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Piis supplicationibus consequantur––</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Now Constance smiled to see the little ones playing +on the steps of a monument. It was the tomb of +a great jurist, a man of dignity during his mundane +existence, his head crammed with those precepts +which are devised for the temporal well-being of that +fabric, sometimes termed society, and again, civilization. +The poor waifs, with suppressed laughter––they +dared not give full vent to their merriment with +the black-robed sisters not far away––ran around the +steps, unmindful of the inscription which might have +been written by a Johnson, and as unconscious of unseemly +conduct as the insects that hummed in the +grass.</p> +<p>“Hush!” whispered one of the sisters, as a funeral +cortège approached.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371' name='page_371'></a>371</span></div> +<p>The children, wide-eyed in awe and wonder, desisted +in their play.</p> +<p>“It is an old man who died last night,” said a nun +in a low voice to Constance, noticing her look of inquiry.</p> +<p>The silver crucifix shone fitfully ahead, while the +chanting of the priests, winding in and out after the +holy symbol, fell upon the ear. And the young girl +gazed with pity as the remains of the Marquis de +Ligne, her father, were borne by.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>Qui vivis et regnas. Glorificamus te.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372' name='page_372'></a>372</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_AN_INCONGRUOUS_RLE' id='CHAPTER_XIII_AN_INCONGRUOUS_RLE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>AN INCONGRUOUS RÔLE</h3> +</div> +<p>Longer and longer trailed the shadow of a tall tombstone +until, as the sun went down, it merged into the +general twilight like a life lengthening out and out +and finally blending in restful darkness. With that +transition came a sudden sense of isolation and loneliness; +the little burial ground seemed the world; +the sky, its walls and ceiling.</p> +<p>From the neighborhood of the gates had vanished +the dusky venders, trundling their booths and stalls +citywards. As abruptly had disappeared the bearers +of flowers and artificial roses with baskets poised +upon their heads, imparting to their figures dignity +and erectness. The sad-eyed nuns had wended their +way out of the little kingdom of the departed, surrounded +by the laughing children and preceded by the +priests and acolytes. All the sounds and activities +of the day––the merriment of the little ones, the oblations +of the priests, the greetings of friends––were +followed by inertness and languor. Motionless +against the sky spread the branches of the trees, like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373' name='page_373'></a>373</span> +lines etched there; still were the clambering vines that +clasped monolith and column.</p> +<p>But suddenly that death-like lull in nature’s animation +and unrest was abruptly broken, and an uproarious +vociferation dispelled the voiceless peace.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“For Jack ashore’s a Crœsus, lads,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With a Jill for every Jack––”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>sang a hoarse voice as its owner came staggering +along one of the walks of the cemetery; for all his +song, no blue-water sailor-man, but a boisterous denizen +of the great river, a raftsman or a keel-boatman, +who had somehow found himself in the burial ground +and now was beating aimlessly about. How this rollicking +waif of the grog shop came to wander so far +from the convivial haunts of his kind and to choose +this spot for a ramble, can only be explained by the +vagaries of inebriety.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“With a Jill in your wake,<br /> +A fair port you’ll make––”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>he continued, when his eye fell upon the figure of a +woman, some distance ahead, and fairly discernible +in the gathering twilight. Immediately the song +ceased and he steadied himself, gazing incredulously +after the form that had attracted his attention.</p> +<p>“Hello!” he said. “Avast, my dear!” he called +out.</p> +<p>Echoing in that still place, his harsh tones produced +a startling effect, and the figure before him moved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374' name='page_374'></a>374</span> +faster and faster, casting a glance behind her at the +man from the river, who with snatches of song, +started in uncertain but determined pursuit. As the +heavy footsteps sounded nearer, she increased her +pace, with eyes bent upon the distant gate; darker +seemed to grow the way; more menacing the shadows +outstretched across the path. Louder crunched +the boots on the shell walk; more audible became the +words of the song that flowed from his lips, when the +sound of a sudden and violent altercation replaced +the hoarse-toned cadence, an altercation that was of +brief duration, characterized by longshoreman oaths, +and followed by silence; and then a figure, not that +of the tuneful waterman, sprang to the side of the +startled girl.</p> +<p>“Miss Carew!” exclaimed a well-remembered voice.</p> +<p>Bewildered, breathing quickly, she gazed from +Edward Mauville, who thus unexpectedly accosted +her, to the prostrate form, lying motionless on the +road. The rude awakening from her day-dream in +the hush of that peaceful place, and the surprising sequence +had dazed her senses, and, for the moment, +it seemed something tragic must have happened.</p> +<p>“Is he dead?” she asked quickly, unable to withdraw +her glance from the immovable figure, stretched +out in the dim light on the path.</p> +<p>“No fear!” said Mauville, quietly, almost thoughtfully, +although his eyes were yet bright from the encounter. +“You can’t kill his kind,” he added, contemptuously. +“Brutes from coal barges, or raftsmen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375' name='page_375'></a>375</span> +from the head waters! He struck against a stone +when he fell, and what with that, and the liquor in +him, will rest there awhile. He’ll come to without +remembering what has happened.”</p> +<p>Turning moodily, the land baron walked slowly +down the road, away from the gate; she thought he +was about to leave her, when he paused, as though +looking for something, stooped to the ground, and +returned, holding out a garment.</p> +<p>“You dropped your wrap, Miss Carew,” he said, +awkwardly. “The night is cold and you will need +it.” She offered no resistance when he placed it over +her shoulders; indeed, seemed unconscious of the attention.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think we had better go?” he went on. +“It won’t hurt him”––indicating the motionless body––“to +stay here––the brute!”</p> +<p>But as he spoke, with some constraint, her eyes, +full of doubts, met his, and he felt a flush mantle his +face. The incongruity of his position appealed forcibly +to him. Had he not been watching and following +her himself? Seeing her helpless, alone, in the silent +spot, where she had unconsciously lingered too long, +had he not been almost on the point of addressing her? +Moved by vague desires, had he not already started +impetuously toward her, when the man from the river +had come rollicking along and insinuated himself after +his fashion in the other’s rôle?</p> +<p>And at the sight––the fleeing girl, the drunken, +profane waterman!––how his heart had leaped and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376' name='page_376'></a>376</span> +his body had become steel for the encounter; an excess +of vigor for a paltry task! Jack, as he called +himself, might have been a fighting-man earlier in +the day, but now he had gone down like straw. +When the excitement of this brief collision was over, +however, the land baron found his position as unexpected +as puzzling.</p> +<p>As these thoughts swiftly crossed his mind, he +could not forbear a bitter laugh, and she, walking +more quickly toward the gate, regarded him with inquiry, +not perhaps unmingled with apprehension. +A picture of events, gone by, arose before her like +a menacing shadow over the present. He interpreted +her glance for what it meant, and angry that she +doubted him, angry with himself, said roughly:</p> +<p>“Oh, you haven’t anything to fear!”</p> +<p>Her answering look was so gentle, so sad, an unwonted +feeling of compunction seized him; he repented +of his harshness, and added less brusquely:</p> +<p>“Why did you remain so late?”</p> +<p>“I did not realize how late it had become.”</p> +<p>“Your thoughts must have been very absorbing!” +he exclaimed quickly, his brow once more overcast.</p> +<p>Not difficult was it for him to surmise upon whom +her mind had been bent, and involuntarily his jaw set +disagreeably, while he looked at her resentfully. In +that light he could but dimly discern her face. Her +bonnet had fallen from her head; her eyes were bent +before her, as though striving to penetrate the gathering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377' name='page_377'></a>377</span> +darkness. With his sudden spell of jealousy +came the temptation to clasp her in his arms in that +silent, isolated place, but the figure of the sailor came +between him and the desire, while pride, the heritage +of the gentleman, fought down the longing. This +self-conquest was not accomplished, however, without +a sacrifice of temper, for after a pause, he observed:</p> +<p>“There is no accounting for a woman’s taste!”</p> +<p>She did not controvert this statement, but the start +she gave told him the shaft had sped home.</p> +<p>“An outlaw! An outcast!” exclaimed the patroon, +stung beyond endurance by his thoughts.</p> +<p>Still no reply; only more hurried footsteps! Around +them sounded a gentle rustling; a lizard scrambled +out of their path through the crackling leaves; a bat, +or some other winged creature, suddenly whirred before +them and vanished. They had now approached +the gate, through which they passed and found themselves +on the road leading directly to the city, whose +lights had already begun to twinkle in the dusk.</p> +<p>The cheering rumble of a carriage and the aspect +of the not far-distant town quickened her spirits and +imparted elasticity to her footsteps. Upon the land +baron they produced an opposite effect, for he was +obviously reluctant to abandon the interview, however +unsatisfactory it might be. There was nothing +to say, and yet he was loath to leave her; there was +nothing to accomplish, and yet he wished to remain +with her. For this reason, as they drew near the +city, his mood became darker, like the night around +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378' name='page_378'></a>378</span> +them. Instinctively, she felt the turbulent passions +stirring in his bosom; his sudden silence, his dogged +footsteps reawakened her misgivings. Furtively she +regarded him, but his eyes were fixed straight before +him on the soft luster above the city, the reflection of +the lights, and she knew and mistrusted his thoughts. +Although she found his silence more menacing than +his words, she could think of nothing to say to break +the spell, and so they continued to walk mutely side +by side. An observer, seeing them beneath the cypress, +a lovers’ promenade, with its soft, enfolding +shadows, would have taken them for a well-matched +couple, who had no need for language.</p> +<p>But when they had emerged from that romantic +lane and entered the city, the land baron breathed more +freely. She was now surrounded by movement and +din; the seclusion of the country gave way to the +stir of the city; she was no longer dependent on his +good offices; his rôle of protector had ended when +they left the cypress walk behind them.</p> +<p>His brow cleared; he glanced at her with ill-concealed +admiration; he noticed with secret pride the +attention she attracted from passers-by, the sidelong +looks of approval that followed her through the +busy streets. The land baron expanded into his old +self; he strode at her side, gratified by the scrutiny +she invited; assurance radiated from his eyes like +some magnetic heat; he played at possession wilfully, +perversely. “Why not,” whispered Hope. “A +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379' name='page_379'></a>379</span> +woman’s mind is shifting ever. Her fancy––a breath! +The other is gone. Why––”</p> +<p>“It was not accident my being in the cemetery, Miss +Carew,” said Mauville, suddenly covering her with his +glance. Meeting her look of surprise unflinchingly, +he continued: “I followed you there; through the +streets, into the country! My seeing you first was +chance; my presence in the burial ground the result +of that chance. The inevitable result!” he repeated +softly. “As inevitable as life! Life; what is it? Influences +which control us; forces which bind us! It +is you, or all; you or nothing!”</p> +<p>She did not reply; his voice, vibrating with feeling, +touched no answering chord. Nevertheless, a new, +inexplicable wave of sorrow moved her. It might be +he had cared for her as sincerely as it was possible +for his wayward heart to care for any one. Perhaps +time would yet soften his faults, and temper his rashness. +With that shade of sorrow for him there came +compassion as well; compassion that overlooked the +past and dwelt on the future.</p> +<p>She raised her steady eyes. “Why should it be +‘I or nothing,’ as you put it?” she finally answered +slowly. “Influences may control us in a measure, but +we may also strive for something. We can always +strive.”</p> +<p>“For what? For what we don’t want? That’s the +philosophy of your moralists, Miss Carew,” he exclaimed. +“That’s your modern ethics of duty. Playing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380' name='page_380'></a>380</span> +tricks with happiness! The game isn’t worth the +candle. Or, if you believe in striving,” he added, +half resentfully, half imploringly, “strive to care for +me but a little. But a little!” he said again. “I who +once wanted all, and would have nothing but all, am +content to ask, to plead, for but a little.”</p> +<p>“I see no reason,” she replied, wearily, yet not unkindly, +“why we should not be friends.”</p> +<p>“Friends!” he answered, bitterly. “I do not beg +for a loaf, but a crumb. Yet you refuse me that! I +will wait! Only a word of encouragement! Will +you not give it?”</p> +<p>She turned and looked into his eyes, and, before +she spoke, he knew what her answer would be.</p> +<p>“How can I?” she said, simply. “Why should I +promise something I can never fulfil?”</p> +<p>He held her glance as though loath to have it leave +him.</p> +<p>“May I see you again?” he asked, abruptly.</p> +<p>She shook her head. His gaze fell, seeing no softening +in her clear look.</p> +<p>“You are well named,” he repeated, more to himself +than to her. “Constance! You are constant in your +dislikes as well as your likes.”</p> +<p>“I have no dislike for you,” she replied. “It seems +to have been left behind me somewhere.”</p> +<p>“Only indifference, then!” he said, dully.</p> +<p>“No; not indifference!”</p> +<p>“You do care what––may become of me?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381' name='page_381'></a>381</span></div> +<p>“You should do so much––be so much in the world,” +she answered, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“<i>Sans peur et sans reproche!</i>” he cried, half-amused, +half-cheerlessly. “What a pity I met you––too +late!”</p> +<p>They were now at the broad entrance of the brilliantly-lighted +hotel. Several loungers, smoking their +after-dinner cigars, gazed at the couple curiously.</p> +<p>“Mauville’s a lucky dog,” said one.</p> +<p>“Yes; he was born with a silver spoon,” replied +the person addressed.</p> +<p>As he passed through the envious throng, the +land baron had regained his self-command, although +his face was marked with an unusual pallor. In his +mind one thought was paramount––that the walk begun +at the burial-ground was drawing to an end; their +last walk; the finale of all between them! Yet he +could call to mind nothing further to say. His story +had been told; the conclusion reached. She, too, had +spoken, and he knew she would never speak differently. +Bewildered and unable to adjust his new and +strange feelings, it dawned upon him he had never +understood himself and her; that he had never really +known what love was, and he stood abashed, confronted +by his own ignorance. Passion, caprice, fancy, +he had seen depth in their shallows, but now looked +down and discerned the pebbly bottom. All this and +much more surged through his brain as he made his +way through the crowd, and, entering the corridor of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382' name='page_382'></a>382</span> +the hotel, took formal leave of the young girl at the +stairway.</p> +<p>“Good-night, Miss Carew,” he said, gravely.</p> +<p>“Good-night,” she replied. And then, on the steps, +she turned and looked down at him, extending her +hand: “Thank you!”</p> +<p>That half-timid, low “thank you!” he knew was +all he would ever receive from her. He hardly felt +the hand-clasp; he was hardly conscious when she +turned away. A heavier hand fell upon his shoulder.</p> +<p>“You sly dog!” said a thick voice. “Well, a judge +of a good horse is a judge of a handsome woman! +We’re making up a few bets on the horses to-morrow. +Colonel Ogelby will ride Dolly D, and I’m to ride my +Gladiator. It’ll be a gentlemen’s race.”</p> +<p>“Aren’t we gentlemen?” growled a professional +turfsman.</p> +<p>“Gad! it’s the first time I ever heard a jockey pretend +to be one!” chuckled the first speaker. “What +do you say, Mauville?”</p> +<p>“What do I say?” repeated the land baron, striving +to collect his thoughts. “What––why, I’ll make it +an even thousand, if you ride your own horse, +you’ll––”</p> +<p>“Win?” interrupted the proud owner.</p> +<p>“No; fall off before he’s at the second quarter!”</p> +<p>“Done!” said the man, immediately.</p> +<p>“Huzza!” shouted the crowd.</p> +<p>“That’s the way they bet on a gentlemen’s race!” +jeered the gleeful jockey.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383' name='page_383'></a>383</span></div> +<p>“Drinks on Gladiator!” exclaimed some one. And +as no southern gentleman was ever known to refuse +to drink to a horse or a woman, the party carried +the discussion to the bar-room.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;margin-bottom:20px;'>BOOK III</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:larger;'>THE FINAL CUE</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='chsp' style='padding-top:0'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_387' name='page_387'></a>387</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_OVERLOOKING_THE_COURTYARD' id='CHAPTER_I_OVERLOOKING_THE_COURTYARD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD</h3> +</div> +<p>“In the will of the Marquis de Ligne, probated +yesterday, all of the property, real and personal, is +left to his daughter, Constance,” wrote Straws in his +paper shortly after the passing of the French nobleman. +“The document states this disposition of property +is made as ‘an act of atonement and justice to +my daughter, whose mother I deserted, taking advantage +of the French law to annul my marriage in +England.’ The legitimacy of the birth of this, his +only child, is thereupon fully acknowledged by the +marquis after a lapse of many years and long after +the heretofore unrecognized wife had died, deserted +and forgotten. Thrown on her own resources, the +young child, with no other friend than Manager +Barnes, battled with the world; now playing in taverns +or barns, like the players of interludes, the strollers +of old, or ‘vagabonds’, as the great and mighty +Junius, from his lofty plane, termed them. The story +of that period of ‘vagrant’ life adds one more chapter +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_388' name='page_388'></a>388</span> +to the annals of strolling players which already include +such names as Kemble, Siddons and Kean.</p> +<p>“From the Junius category to a public favorite of +New Orleans has been no slight transition, and now, +to appear in the rôle of daughter of a marquis and +heiress to a considerable estate––truly man––and +woman––play many parts in this brief span called +life! But in making her sole heir the marquis +specifies a condition which will bring regrets to many +of the admirers of the actress. He robs her of her +birthright from her mother. The will stipulates that +the recipient give up her profession, not because it is +other than a noble one, but ‘that she may the better +devote herself to the duties of her new position and +by her beneficence and charity remove the stain left +upon an honored name by my second wife, the +Duchesse D’Argens’.”</p> +<p>The marquis’ reference to “charity” and “beneficence” +was in such ill-accord with his character that +it might be suspected an adroit attorney, in drawing +up the document, had surreptitiously inserted it. His +proud allusion to his honored name and slurring suggestion +of the taint put upon it by his second wife +demonstrated the marquis was not above the foibles +of his kind, overlooking his own light conduct and +dwelling on that of his noble helpmate. It was the +final taunt, and, as the lady had long since been laid +in God’s Acre, where there is only silence divine, it +received no answer, and the world was welcome to +digest and gorge it and make the most of it.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_389' name='page_389'></a>389</span></div> +<p>But although the marquis and his lady had no +further interest in subsequent events, growing out of +their brief sojourn on earth, the contents of the will +afforded a theme of gossip for the living and molded +the affairs of one in new shape and manner. On the +same day this public exposition appeared, Barnes and +the young actress were seated in the law office of +Marks and Culver, a room overlooking a court-yard, +brightened by statues and urns of flowers. A plaster +bust of Justinian gazed benignly through the window +at a fountain; a steel engraving of Jeremy Bentham +watched the butterflies, and Hobbes and John Austin, +austere in portraiture, frowned darkly down upon the +flowering garden. While the manager and Constance +waited for the attorney to appear, they were discussing, +not for the first time, the proviso of the will to +which Straws had regretfully alluded.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said Barnes, folding the newspaper which +contained Straws’ article and placing it in his pocket; +“you should certainly give up the stage. We must +think of the disappointments, the possible failure, the +slender reward. There was your mother––such an +actress!––yet toward the last the people flocked to a +younger rival. I have often thought anxiously of your +future, for I am old––yes, there is no denying it!––and +any day I may leave you, dependent solely upon yourself.”</p> +<p>“Do not speak like that,” she answered, tenderly. +“We shall be together many, many years.”</p> +<p>“Always, if I had my way,” he returned, heartily.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_390' name='page_390'></a>390</span></div> +<p>“But with this legacy you are superior to the fickle +public. In fact, you are now a part of the capricious +public, my dear,” he added in a jocular tone, “and +may applaud the ‘heavy father,’ myself, or prattle +about prevailing styles while the buskined tragedian +is strutting below your box. Why turn to a blind +bargain? Fame is a jade, only caught after our illusions +are gone and she seems not half so sweet as +when pursuing her in our dreams!”</p> +<p>But as he spoke, with forced lightness, beneath +which, however, the young girl could readily detect +the vein of anxiety and regret, she was regarding him +with the clear eyes of affection. His face, seamed +with many lines and bearing the deeply engraved +handwriting of time, spoke plainly of declining years; +every lineament was eloquent with vicissitudes endured; +and as she discerningly read that varied past of +which her own brief career had been a part, there +entered her mind a brighter picture of a tranquil life +for him at last, where in old age he could exchange +uncertainty and activity for security and rest. How +could she refuse to do as he desired? How often +since fate had wrought this change in her life had she +asked herself the question?</p> +<p>Her work, it is true, had grown dearer to her than +ever; of late she had thrown herself into her task +with an ardor and earnestness lifting each portrayal +to a higher plane. Is it that only with sorrow comes +the fulness of art; that its golden gates are never +swung entirely open to the soul bearing no burden?</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_391' name='page_391'></a>391</span></div> +<p>Closed to ruder buffetings, is it only to the sesame of +a sad voice those portals spring magically back? But +for his sake she must needs pause on the threshold +of attainment, and stifle that ambition which of itself +precluded consideration of a calm, uneventful existence. +She was young and full of courage, but the +pathos of his years smote her heart; something inexplicable +had awakened her fears for him; she believed +him far from well of late, although he laughed +at her apprehensions and protested he had never been +better in his life.</p> +<p>Now, reading the anxiety in his face as he watched +her, she smiled reassuringly, her glance, full of love, +meeting his.</p> +<p>“Everything shall be as you wish,” she said, softly. +“You know what is best!”</p> +<p>The manager’s face lighted perceptibly, but before +he could answer, the door opened, and Culver, the +attorney, entered. With ruddy countenance and +youthful bearing, in antithesis to the hair, silvered +with white, he was one of those southern gentlemen +who grow old gracefully. The law was his taskmaster; +he practised from a sense of duty, but ever +held that those who rushed to court were likely +to repeat the experience of Voltaire, who had twice +been ruined: once when he lost a law suit; the second +time, when he won one! Nevertheless, people +persisted in coming to Culver wantonly welcoming +unknown ills.</p> +<p>“Well, Miss Carew,” he now exclaimed, after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_392' name='page_392'></a>392</span> +warmly greeting his visitors, “have you disburdened +yourself of prejudice against this estate? Wealth +may be a little hardship at first, but soon you won’t +mind it.”</p> +<p>“Not a bit!” spoke up Barnes. “It’s as easy to get +used to as––poverty, and we’ve had plenty of that!”</p> +<p>“You know the other condition?” she said, half-defiantly, +half-sadly. “You are to be with me always.”</p> +<p>“How can you teach an old dog new tricks?” protested +Barnes. “How can you make a fine man about +town out of a ‘heavy father?’”</p> +<p>“The ‘heavy father’ is my father. I never knew any +other. I am glad I never did.”</p> +<p>“Hoity-toity!” he exclaimed scoffingly, but pleased +nevertheless.</p> +<p>“You can’t put me off that way,” she said, decisively, +with a sudden flash in her eyes he knew too well +to cross. “Either you leave the stage, too, or––”</p> +<p>“Of course, my dear, of course––”</p> +<p>“Then it’s all settled you will accept the encumbrance +to which you have fallen heir,” resumed +Culver. “Even if there had been no will in your favor, +the State of Louisiana follows the French law, +and the testator can under no circumstances alienate +more than half his property, if he leave issue or descendants. +Had the old will remained, its provisions +could not have been legally carried out.”</p> +<p>“The old will?” said Barnes. “Then there was another +will?”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_393' name='page_393'></a>393</span></div> +<p>“One made before he was aware of your existence, +Miss Carew, in favor of his ward, Ernest Saint-Prosper.”</p> +<p>“Ernest Saint-Prosper!”</p> +<p>Constance’s cheeks flamed crimson, and her quick +start of surprise did not escape the observant lawyer. +Barnes, too, looked amazed over this unexpected intelligence.</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper was the marquis’ ward?” he cried.</p> +<p>The attorney transferred his gaze from the expressive +features of his fair client to the open countenance +of the manager. “Yes,” he said.</p> +<p>“And would have inherited this property but for +Constance?”</p> +<p>“Exactly! But you knew him, Mr. Barnes?”</p> +<p>“He was an occupant of the chariot, sir,” replied +the manager, with some feeling. “We met in the +Shadengo Valley; the company was in sore straits, +and––and––to make a long story short!––he joined +our band and traversed the continent with us. And +so he was the marquis’ ward! It seems almost incredible!”</p> +<p>“Yes,” affirmed Culver; “when General Saint-Prosper, +his father, died, Ernest Saint-Prosper, who +was then but a boy, became the marquis’ ward and a +member of his household.”</p> +<p>“Well, well, how things do come about!” ruminated +Barnes. “To think he should have been the prospective +heir, and Constance, the real one!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_394' name='page_394'></a>394</span></div> +<p>“Where is he now?” asked the attorney, thoughtfully.</p> +<p>“He has gone to Mexico; enlisted! But how do +you know he––”</p> +<p>“Had expectations? The marquis told me about +a quarrel they had had; he was a staunch imperialist; +the young man as firm a republican! What would +be the natural outcome? They parted in bitter anger.”</p> +<p>“And then the marquis made him his heir?” exclaimed +the manager, incredulously. “How do you +reconcile that?”</p> +<p>The attorney smiled. “Through the oddity of my +client! ‘Draw up my will,’ said the marquis to me +one day, ‘leaving all my property to this republican +young dog. That will cut off the distant relatives +who made the sign of the cross behind my back as +though I were the evil one. They expect it all; he +expects nothing! It will be a rare joke. I leave +them my affection––and the privilege of having masses +said for my soul.’ The marquis was always of a +satirical temperament.”</p> +<p>“So it seems,” commented the manager. “But he +changed his mind and his will again?”</p> +<p>“After he met Miss Carew.”</p> +<p>“Met me!” exclaimed Constance, aroused from a +maze of reflection.</p> +<p>“Near the cathedral! He walked and talked with +you.”</p> +<p>“That poor old man––”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_395' name='page_395'></a>395</span></div> +<p>“And then came here, acknowledged you as his +daughter, and drew up the final document.”</p> +<p>“That accounts for a call I had from him!” cried +Barnes, telling the story of the marquis’ visit. +“Strange, I did not suspect something of the truth at +the time,” he concluded, “for his manner was certainly +unusual.”</p> +<p>A perplexed light shone in the girl’s eyes; she +clasped and unclasped her hands quickly, turning to +the lawyer.</p> +<p>“Their quarrel was only a political difference?” she +asked at length.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the other, slowly. “Saint-Prosper refused +to support the fugitive king. Throughout the +parliamentary government, the restoration under +Louis XVIII, and the reign of King Charles X, the +marquis had ever a devout faith in the divine right +of monarchs. He annulled his marriage in England +with your mother to marry the Duchesse D’Argens, a +relative of the royal princess. But Charles abdicated +and the duchesse died. All this, however, is painful +to you, Miss Carew?”</p> +<p>“Only such as relates to my mother,” she replied +in a clear tone. “I suppose I should feel grateful for +this fortune, but I am afraid I do not. Please go +on.”</p> +<p>Culver leaned back in his chair, his glance bent +upon a discolored statue of Psyche in the court-yard. +“Had the marquis attended to his garden, like Candide, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_396' name='page_396'></a>396</span> +or your humble servant, and eschewed the company +of kings he might have been as care-free as he +was wretched. His monarchs were knocked down +like nine-pins. Louis XVIII was a man of straw; +Charles X, a feather-top, and Louis Philippe, a toy +ruler. The marquis’ domestic life was as unblest as +his political career. The frail duchesse left him a +progeny of scandals. These, the only offspring of +the iniquitous dame, were piquantly dressed in the +journals for public parade. Fancy, then, his delight +in disinheriting his wife’s relatives, and leaving you, +his daughter, his fortune and his name!”</p> +<p>“His name?” she repeated, sadly. With averted +face she watched the fountain in the garden. “If he +had given it to my mother,” she continued, “but +now––I do not care for it. Her name is all I want.” +Her voice trembled and she exclaimed passionately: +“I should rather Mr. Saint-Prosper would keep the +property and I––my work! After denying my mother +and deserting her, how can I accept anything from +him?”</p> +<p>“Under the new will,” said Culver, “the estate does +not revert to Mr. Saint-Prosper in any event. But +you might divide it with him?” he added, suddenly.</p> +<p>“How could I do that?” she asked, without looking +up.</p> +<p>“Marry him!” laughed the attorney.</p> +<p>But the jest met with scant response, his fair client +remaining motionless as a statue, while Barnes gazed +at her furtively. Culver’s smile gradually faded; uncertain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_397' name='page_397'></a>397</span> +how to proceed, realizing his humor had somehow +miscarried, he was not sorry when the manager +arose, saying:</p> +<p>“Well, my dear, it is time we were at the theater.”</p> +<p>“Won’t you accept this nosegay from my garden, +Miss Carew?” urged the lawyer in a propitiatory tone +as they were leaving.</p> +<p>And the attorney not only accompanied them to the +door, but down-stairs to the street, where he stood +for a moment watching them drive down the thoroughfare. +Then he slowly returned, breathing heavily––invidious +contradiction of his youthful assumption!––and +shaking his head, as he mounted to his +room.</p> +<p>“Culver, you certainly put your foot in it that time!” +he muttered. “How she froze at my suggestion! Has +there been some passage of arms between them? Apparently! +But here am I, pondering over romances +with all this legal business staring me in the face!” +His glance swept a chaos of declarations, bills, affidavits +and claims. “Confound the musty old courthouse +and the bustling Yankee lawyers who set such +a disturbing pace! There is no longer gentlemanly +leisure in New Orleans.”</p> +<p>He seated himself with a sigh before a neglected +brief. In the distance the towers of the cathedral +could be seen, reminding the attorney of the adjacent +halls of justice in the scraggy-looking square, +with its turmoil, its beggars, and apple women in the +lobbies; its ancient, offensive smell, its rickety stairs, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_398' name='page_398'></a>398</span> +its labyrinth of passages and its Babel of tongues. +Above him, however, the plaster bust of Justinian, out +of those blank, sightless eyes, continued the contemplation +of the garden as though turning from the +complex jurisprudence of the ancients and moderns +to the simple existence of butterflies and flowers.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_399' name='page_399'></a>399</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_ONLY_A_SHADOW' id='CHAPTER_II_ONLY_A_SHADOW'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>ONLY A SHADOW</h3> +</div> +<p>There is an aphorism to the effect that one can not +spend and have; also, a saying about the whirlwind, +both of which in time came home to the land baron. +For several generations the Mauville family, bearing +one of the proudest names in Louisiana, had held +marked prestige under Spanish and French rule, while +extensive plantations indicated the commercial ascendency +of the patroon’s ancestors. The thrift of his forefathers, +however, passed lightly over Edward Mauville. +Sent to Paris by his mother, a widow, who +could deny him nothing, in the course of a few years he +had squandered two plantations and several hundred +negroes. Her death placed him in undisputed possession +of the residue of the estate, when finding the exacting +details of commerce irksome, in a moment of +weakness, he was induced to dispose of some of his +possessions to Yankee speculators who had come in +with the flood of northern energy. Most of the money +thus realized he placed in loose investments, while the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_400' name='page_400'></a>400</span> +remainder gradually disappeared in indulging his +pleasures.</p> +<p>At this critical stage in his fortunes––or misfortunes––the +patroon’s legacy had seemed timely, and +his trip to the North followed. But from a swarm of +creditors, to a nest of anti-renters, was out of the +frying-pan into the fire, hastening his return to the +Crescent City, where he was soon forced to make an +assignment of the remaining property. A score of +hungry lawyers hovered around the sinking estate, +greedily jealous lest some one of their number should +batten too gluttonously at this general collation. It +was the one topic of interest in the musty, dusty courthouse +until the end appeared with the following announcement +in the local papers:</p> +<p>“<i>Annonce! Vente importante de Nègres!</i> Mauville +estate in bankruptcy!”</p> +<p>And thereafter were specified the different lots of +negroes to be sold.</p> +<p>Coincident with these disasters came news from the +North regarding his supposedly immense interests in +New York State. A constitutional convention had +abolished all feudal tenures and freed the fields from +baronial burdens. At a breath––like a house of cards––the +northern heritage was swept away and about +all that remained of the principality was the worthless +ancient deed itself, representing one of the largest +colonial grants.</p> +<p>But even the sale of the negroes and his other +merchandise and property failed to satisfy his clamorous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_401' name='page_401'></a>401</span> +creditors or to pay his gambling debts. Those +obligations at cards it was necessary to meet, so he +moved out of his bachelor apartments, turned over +his expensive furnishings and bric-à-brac to the gamblers +and snapped his fingers at the over-anxious constables +and lawyers.</p> +<p>As time went by evidence of his reverses insidiously +crept into his personal appearance. He who had been +the leader now clung to the tail-ends of style, and it +was a novel sensation when one day he noticed a friend +scrutinizing his garments much in the same critical +manner that he had himself erstwhile affected. This +glance rested casually on the hat; strayed carelessly to +the waistcoat; wandered absently to the trousers, down +one leg and up the other; superciliously jumped over +the waistcoat and paused the infinitesimal part of a +second on the necktie. Mauville learned in that moment +how the eye may wither and humble, without +giving any ostensible reason for offense. The attitude +of this mincing fribble, as he danced twittingly away, +was the first intimation Mauville had received that he +would soon be relegated to the ranks of gay adventurers +thronging the city. He who had watched his +estates vanish with an unruffled countenance now became +disconcerted over the width of his trousers and +the shape of his hat.</p> +<p>His new home was in the house of an aged +quadroon who had been a servant in his family many +years ago––how long no one seemed to remember!––and +who had been his nurse before she had received +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_402' name='page_402'></a>402</span> +her freedom. She enjoyed the distinction of being +feared in the neighborhood; her fetishes had a power +no other witch’s possessed, and many of the negroes +would have done anything to have possessed these +infallible charms, save crossing her threshold to get +them. Mauville, when he found fortune slipping +away from him and ruin staring him in the face, had +been glad to transfer his abode to this unhallowed +place; going into hiding, as it were, until the storm +should blow by, when he expected to emerge, confident +as ever.</p> +<p>But inaction soon chafed his restless nature, and +drove him forth in spite of himself from the streets +in that quarter of the town where the roofs of various-colored +houses formed strange geometrical figures +and the windows were bright with flaring head-dresses, +beneath which looked out curious visages of ebony. +Returning one day from such a peregrination, he determined +to end a routine of existence so humiliating +to his pride.</p> +<p>Pausing before a doorway, the land baron looked +this way and that, and seeing only the rotating eyes +of a pickaninny fastened upon him, hurried through +the entrance. Hanging upon the walls were red and +green pods and bunches of dried herbs of unquestionable +virtue belonging to the old crone’s pharmacopœia. +Mauville slowly ascended the dark stairs +and reached his retreat, a small apartment, with furniture +of cane-work and floor covered with sea-grass; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_403' name='page_403'></a>403</span> +the ceiling low and the windows narrow, opening upon +a miniature balcony that offered space for one and no +more.</p> +<p>“Is dat yo’, honey?” said an adoring voice on the +landing.</p> +<p>“Yes, auntie,” replied the land baron, as an old +crone emerged from an ill-lighted recess and stood +before him.</p> +<p>Now the light from the doorway fell upon her, and +surely five score years were written on her curiously +wrinkled face––five score, or more, for even the negroes +did not profess to know how old she was. Her +bent figure, watery eyes and high shrill voice bore +additional testimony to her age.</p> +<p>“Yo’s home earlier dan usual, dearie?” she resumed. +“But yo’ supper’s all ready. Sit down here.”</p> +<p>“I’m not hungry, auntie,” he returned.</p> +<p>“Not hungry, honey?” she cried, laughing shrilly. +“Yo’ wait!” And she disappeared into an adjoining +room, soon to emerge with a steaming platter, which +she set on the snow-white cover of the little table. +Removing the lid from the dish, she hobbled back a +few steps to regard her guest with triumphant expectation. +“Dat make yo’ eat.”</p> +<p>“What a cook you are, mammy!” he said, lightly. +“You would give a longing tooth to satiety.”</p> +<p>“De debil blow de fire,” she answered, chuckling.</p> +<p>“Then the devil is a <i>chef de cuisine</i>. This sauce +is bewitching.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_404' name='page_404'></a>404</span></div> +<p>“Yo’ like it?” Delighted.</p> +<p>“Tis a spell in itself. Confess, mammy, Old Nick +mixed it?”</p> +<p>“No, he only blow de fire,” she reiterated, with a +grin.</p> +<p>“Any one been to see me, mammy?”</p> +<p>“Only dat Mexican gemmen; dat gemmen been +here befo’ who take yo’ message about de troops; +when dey go from New Orleans; how many dey +am!”</p> +<p>“You know that, auntie?” he asked quickly. “You +know that I––”</p> +<p>“Yes, honey,” she answered, shaking her head. +“Yo’ be berry careful, Mar’s’r Edward.”</p> +<p>“What did he want?” said the land baron, quickly.</p> +<p>“He gib me dis.” And the crone handed her visitor +a slip of paper on which a few words were +written. “What dat mean?”</p> +<p>“It means I am going away, mammy,” pushing +back his chair.</p> +<p>“Gwine away!” she repeated. “When’s yo’ gwine?”</p> +<p>“To-morrow; perhaps to-night even; down the +river, auntie!” Rising and surveying himself in a +mirror.</p> +<p>“How long yo’ gwine away foh?”</p> +<p>“Perhaps forever, auntie!”</p> +<p>“Not foh good, Mar’s’r Edward? Not foh good?” +He nodded and she broke into loud wailings. “Yo’s +gwine and yo’ old mammy’ll see yo’ no moh––no moh! +I knows why yo’s gwine, Mar’s’r Edward. I’s heard +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_405' name='page_405'></a>405</span> +yo’ talkin’ about her in yo’ sleep. But yo’ stay and +yo’ mammy has a love-charm foh yo’; den she’s yo’s, +foh suah.”</p> +<p>This offer, coming from one of her uncanny reputation, +would have been accepted with implicit faith +by most of the dwellers in that locality, superstitious +to the last degree, but Mauville laughed carelessly.</p> +<p>“Pshaw, mammy! Do you think I would fly from +a woman? Do I look as though I needed a charm?”</p> +<p>“No; she mus’ worship yo’!” cried the infatuated +crone.</p> +<p>Then a change passed over her puckered face and +she lifted her arms despairingly, rocking her body to +and fro, while she mumbled unintelligible words which +would have caused the negroes to draw away from +her with awe, for the spell was on her. But the land +baron only regarded her carelessly as she muttered +something pertaining to spells and omens.</p> +<p>“Come, auntie,” he said impatiently at last, “you +know I don’t believe in this tom-foolery.”</p> +<p>She turned to him vehemently. “Don’t go whar +yo’ thinkin’ ob gwine, honey,” she implored. “Yo’ll +nebber come back, foh suah––foh suah! I see yo’ +lyin’ dar, honey, in de dark valley––whar de mists +am risin’––and I hears a bugle soundin’––and de +tramp of horses. Dey am all gone, honey––and de mists +come back––but yo’ am dar––lying dar––de mountains +around yo’––yo’ am dar fo’ebber and ebber and––” +Here she broke into wild sobbing and moaning, tossing +her white hair with her trembling withered arms, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_406' name='page_406'></a>406</span> +a moving picture of an inspired dusky sibyl. Mauville +shrugged his shoulders.</p> +<p>“We’re losing time, mammy,” he exclaimed. “Stop +this nonsense and go pack a few things for me. I +have some letters to write.”</p> +<p>The old woman reluctantly obeyed, and the land +baron penned a somewhat lengthy epistle to his one-time +master in Paris, the Abbé Moneau, whose disapproval +of the Anglo-Saxon encroachments––witness +Louisiana!––and zeal for the colonization of the Latin +races are matters of history. Having completed his +epistle, the land baron placed it in the old crone’s hand +to mail with: “If that man calls again, tell him I’ll +meet him to-night,” and, leaving the room, shot +through the doorway, once more rapidly walking +down the shabby thoroughfare. The aged negro +woman stumbled out upon the balcony and gazed after +the departing figure still moaning softly to herself +and shaking her head in anguish.</p> +<p>“Fo’ebber and ebber,” she repeated in a wailing +tone. Below a colored boy gazed at her in wonderment.</p> +<p>“What debblement am she up to now?” he said to +a girl seated in a doorway. “When de old witch +am like dat––”</p> +<p>“Come in dar, yo’ black imp!” And a vigorous +arm pulled the lad abruptly through the opening. +“Ef she sees yo’, she can strike yo’ dead, foh suah!”</p> +<p>The crone could no longer distinguish Mauville––her +eyes were nearly sightless––but she continued to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_407' name='page_407'></a>407</span> +look in the direction he had taken, sobbing as before: +“Fo’ebber and ebber! Fo’ebber and ebber!”</p> +<p>Once more upon a fashionable thoroughfare, the +land baron’s footstep relaxed and he relapsed into his +languorous, indolent air. The shadows of twilight +were darkening the streets and a Caribbee-scented +breeze was wafted from the gulf across the city. It +swept through the broad avenues and narrow highways, +and sighed among the trees of the old garden. +Seating himself absently on one of the public +benches, Mauville removed his hat to allow the cool +air to fan his brow. Presently he moved on; up +Canal Street, where the long rows of gas lights now +gleamed through the foliage; thence into a side thoroughfare, +as dark as the other street was bright, pausing +before a doorway, illumined by a single yellow +flame that flickered in the draft and threatened to +leave the entrance in total obscurity. Mounting two +flights of stairs, no better lighted than the hall below, +the land baron reached a doorway, where he paused +and knocked. In answer to his summons a slide was +quickly slipped back, and through the aperture floated +an alcoholic breath.</p> +<p>“Who is it?”</p> +<p>“A Knight of the Golden Square,” said the caller, +impatiently. “Open the door.”</p> +<p>The man obeyed and the land baron was admitted +to the hall of an organization which had its inception +in Texas; a society not unlike the Secret Session +Legation of the Civil War, having for its object the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_408' name='page_408'></a>408</span> +overthrow of the government, the carrying of mails +and despatches and other like business. Here was +gathered a choice aggregation of Mexican sympathizers, +a conclave hostile to the North. Composed of +many nationalities, the polished continental adventurer +rubbed shoulders with the Spanish politicians; +the swarthy agents of Santa Anna brushed against the +secret enemies of northern aggression. A small bar, +unpretentious but convenient, occupied a portion of +one end of the room, and a brisk manipulator of juleps +presided over this popular corner.</p> +<p>Half-disdainfully, the land baron mingled with the +heterogeneous assembly; half-ironically, his eye +swept the group at the bar––the paid spy, the needy +black-sheep; the patriot, the swashbuckler; men with +and without a career. As Mauville stepped forward, a +quiet, dark-looking man, obviously a Mexican, not +without a certain distinguished carriage, immediately +approached the newcomer.</p> +<p>“You have come? Good!” he said, and drew Mauville +aside. They conversed in low tones, occasionally +glancing about them at the others.</p> +<p>In the hall below the rhythm of a waltz now made +itself heard, and the land baron, having received certain +papers which committed him to a hazardous service, +prepared to leave.</p> +<p>“Here’s luck!” said a man on his left, raising his +glass. At these words several of the company +turned.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_409' name='page_409'></a>409</span></div> +<p>“Send it south!” roared a Texan Furioso, emptying +his tumbler.</p> +<p>“Send it south!” echoed the others, and “south” the +fragrant juleps were “sent,” as the land baron unceremoniously +tore himself away from the group.</p> +<p>“They say the floods are rising,” said the man with +whom Mauville had conferred, at the door.</p> +<p>“All the better if the river’s running wild!” answered +the other. “It will be easier running the +guard.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” returned the Mexican, extending his hand, +with a smile; “in this case, there’s safety in danger!”</p> +<p>“That’s reassuring!” replied the land baron, lightly, +as he descended the stairs.</p> +<p>On reaching the floor below he was afforded a +view through an open door into a large room, lighted +with many lamps, where a quadroon dance, or “society +ball,” was in progress. After a moment’s hesitation +he entered and stood in the glare, watching the +waltzers. Around the wall were dusky chaperons, +guarding their charges with the watchfulness of old +dowagers protecting their daughters from the advances +of younger sons. Soft eyes flashed invitingly, +graceful figures passed, and the revelry momentarily +attracted Mauville, as he followed the movements of +the waltzers and heard the strains of music. Impulsively +he approached a young woman whose complexion +was as light as his own and asked her to dance. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_410' name='page_410'></a>410</span> +The next moment they were gliding to the dreamy +rhythm around the room.</p> +<p>By a fatal trick of imagination, his thoughts wandered +to the dark-haired girl he had met in the Shadengo +Valley. If this now were she, the partner he +had so unceremoniously summoned to his side. How +light were her feet; what poetry of motion was her +dancing; what pleasure the abandonment to which +she had resigned herself! Involuntarily he clasped +more tightly the slender waist, and the dark eyes, +moved by that palpable caress, looked not unkindly into +his own. But at the glance he experienced a strange +repulsion and started, as if awakening from a fevered +sleep, abruptly stopping in the dance, his arm falling to +his side. The girl looked at him half-shyly, half-boldly, +and the very beauty of her eyes––the deep, +lustrous orbs of a quadroon––smote him mockingly. +He felt as though some light he sought shone far beyond +his ken; a light he saw, but could never reach; +ever before him, but always receding.</p> +<p>“Monsieur is tired?” said the girl, in a puzzled +tone.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he answered bluntly, leading her to a seat. +“Good-night.”</p> +<p>“Good-night,” she replied, following his retreating +figure with something like regret.</p> +<p>The evening bells, distinct and mysterious, were +sounding as he emerged from New Orleans’ <i>Mabille</i>, +and their crystalline tones, rising and falling on the +solemn night, brought to mind his boyhood. Pictures +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_411' name='page_411'></a>411</span> +long forgotten passed before him, as his footsteps led +him far from the brightly-lighted streets to a sequestered +thoroughfare that lay peacefully on the confines +of the busy city; a spot inviting rest from the +turmoil yonder and in accord with the melancholy +vibrations of the bells. He stood, unseen in the +shadow of great trees, before a low rambling mansion; +not so remote but that the perfume from the +garden was wafted to him over the hedge.</p> +<p>“A troubadour!” he said scornfully to himself. +“Edward Mauville sighing at a lady’s window like +some sentimental serenader! There’s a light yonder. +Now to play my despairing part, I must watch for her +image. If I were some one else, I should say my heart +beats faster than usual. She comes––the fair lady! +Now the curtain’s down. All that may be seen is her +shadow. So, despairing lover, hug that shadow to +your breast!”</p> +<p>He plucked a rose from a bush in her garden, laughing +at himself the while for doing so, and as he moved +away he repeated with conviction:</p> +<p>“A shadow! That is all she ever could have been +to me!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_412' name='page_412'></a>412</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_FROM_GARRET_TO_GARDEN' id='CHAPTER_III_FROM_GARRET_TO_GARDEN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>FROM GARRET TO GARDEN</h3> +</div> +<p>“Celestina, what do you think this is?” Waving +something that crackled in mid air.</p> +<p>“A piece of paper,” said Celestina from her place +on the hearth.</p> +<p>“Paper!” scoffed Straws. “It’s that which Horace +calls a handmaid, if you know how to use it; a mistress, +if you do not––money! It is––success, the +thing which wrecks more lives than cyclones, fires and +floods! We were happy enough before this came, +weren’t we, Celestina?”</p> +<p>The girl nodded her head, a look of deep anxiety +in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Oh, why did the critics so damn the book it fairly +leaped to popularity!” went on the bard. “Why did +they advise me to learn a trade? to spoil no more +reams of paper? To spoil reams of paper and get +what––this little bit in return!”</p> +<p>“Is it so very much money?” asked Celestina.</p> +<p>“An enormous amount––one thousand dollars! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_413' name='page_413'></a>413</span> +And the worst of it is, my publishers write there may +be more to come.”</p> +<p>“Well,” said the child, after a long, thoughtful +pause, “why don’t you give it away?”</p> +<p>“Hum! Your suggestion, my dear––”</p> +<p>“But, perhaps, no one would take it?” interrupted +Celestina.</p> +<p>“Perhaps they wouldn’t!” agreed Straws, rubbing +his hands. “So, under the circumstances, let us consider +how we may cultivate some of the vices of the +rich. It is a foregone conclusion, set down by the +philosophers, that misery assails riches. The philosophers +were never rich and therefore they know. Besides, +they are unanimous on the subject. It only +remains to make the best of it and cultivate the vanities +of our class. Where shall I begin? ‘Riches betray +man into arrogance,’ saith Addison. Therefore +will I be arrogant; while you, my dear, shall be +proud.”</p> +<p>“That will be lovely!” assented Celestina, as a matter +of habit. She went to the bed and began smoothing +the sheets deftly.</p> +<p>“My dear!” expostulated Straws. “You mustn’t +do that.”</p> +<p>“Not make the bed!” she asked, in surprise.</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Nor bring your charcoal?”</p> +<p>“No.”</p> +<p>“Nor wash your dishes?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_414' name='page_414'></a>414</span></div> +<p>Celestina dropped on the floor, a picture of misery.</p> +<p>“Too bad, isn’t it?” commented Straws. “But it +can’t be helped, can it?”</p> +<p>“No,” she said, shaking her head, wofully; “it +can’t be helped! But why––why did you publish it?”</p> +<p>“Just what the critics asked, my dear! Why? +Who knows? Who can tell why the gods invented +madness? But it’s done; for bad, or worse!”</p> +<p>“For bad, or worse!” she repeated, gazing wistfully +toward the rumpled bed.</p> +<p>“If somebody tells you fine feathers don’t make fine +birds, don’t believe him,” continued the poet. “It’s +envy that speaks! But what do you suppose I have +here?” Producing a slip of paper from his vest +pocket. “No; it’s not another draft! An advertisement! +Listen: ‘Mademoiselle de Castiglione’s select +seminary. Young ladies instructed in the arts of the +<i>bon ton</i>. Finesse, repose, literature! Fashions, etiquette, +languages! P. S. Polkas a specialty!’ Celestina, +your destiny lies at Mademoiselle de Castiglione’s. +They will teach you to float into a drawing +room––but you won’t forget the garret? They will instruct +you how to sit on gilt chairs––you will think +sometimes of the box, or the place by the hearth? You +will become a mistress of the piano––‘By the Coral +Strands I Wander,’ ‘The Sweet Young Bachelor’––but +I trust you will not learn to despise altogether +the attic pipe?”</p> +<p>“You mean,” said Celestina, slowly, her face expressing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_415' name='page_415'></a>415</span> +bewilderment, “I must go away somewhere?”</p> +<p>Straws nodded. “That’s it; somewhere!”</p> +<p>The girl’s eyes flashed; her little hands clenched. +“I won’t; I won’t!”</p> +<p>“Then that’s the end on’t!” retorted the bard. “I +had bought you some new dresses, a trunk with your +name on it, and had made arrangements with Mademoiselle +de Castiglione (who had read ‘Straws’ +Strophes’), but perhaps I could give the dresses away +to some other little girl who will be glad to drink at +the Pierian––I mean, the Castiglione––spring.”</p> +<p>Celestina’s eyes were an agony of jealousy; not +that she was mercenary, or cared for the dresses, but +that Straws should give them to another little girl. +Her pride, however, held her in check and she drew +herself up with composure.</p> +<p>“That would be nice––for the other little girl!” she +said.</p> +<p>“The only difficulty is,” resumed Straws, “there +isn’t any other little girl.”</p> +<p>At that, Celestina gave a glad cry and flew to him, +throwing her arms around his neck.</p> +<p>“Oh, I will go anywhere you want!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Get on your bonnet then––before you change your +mind, my dear!”</p> +<p>“And aunt?” asked Celestina, lingering doubtfully +on the threshold.</p> +<p>“Your aunt, as you call that shriveled-up shrew, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_416' name='page_416'></a>416</span> +consented at once,” answered Straws. “Her parental +heart was filled with thanksgiving at the prospect of +one less mouth to fill. Go and say good-by, however, +to the old harridan; I think she has a few conventional +tears to shed. But do not let her prolong her +grief inordinately, and meet me at the front door.”</p> +<p>A few moments later, Straws and the child, hand-in-hand, +started on their way to the Castiglione temple +of learning and culture. If Celestina appeared +thoughtful, even sad, the poet was never so merry, +and sought to entertain the abstracted girl with sparkling +chit-chat about the people they met in the +crowded streets. A striking little man was a composer +of ability, whose operas, “Cosimo,” “Les Pontons +de Cadiz,” and other works had been produced +at the Opéra Comique in Paris. He was now director +of the French opera in New Orleans and had +brought out the charming Mademoiselle Capriccioso +and the sublime Signor Staccato. The lady by his +side, a dark brunette with features that were still beautiful, +was the nimble-footed Madame Feu-de-joie, +whose shapely limbs and graceful motions had delighted +two generations and were like to appeal to a +third. Men who at twenty had thrown Feu-de-joie +posies, now bald but young as ever, tossed her roses.</p> +<p>“I don’t like that lady,” said Celestina, emphatically, +when the dancer had passed on, after petting her +and kissing her on the cheek.</p> +<p>“Now, it’s curious,” commented the bard, “but your +sex never did.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_417' name='page_417'></a>417</span></div> +<p>“Do men like her?” asked the child, with premature +penetration.</p> +<p>“They did; they do; they will!” answered Straws, +epigrammatically.</p> +<p>“Do you like her?”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s different! Poets, you know, are the +exception to any rule.”</p> +<p>“Why?”</p> +<p>“Because––Really, my dear, you ask too many +questions!”</p> +<p>Although Straws and Celestina had left the house +early in the day, it was noon before they reached the +attractive garden, wherein was sequestered the “select +seminary.”</p> +<p>In this charming prison, whose walls were overrun +with flowering vines, and whose cells were pretty +vestal bowers, entered the bard and the young girl, to +be met on the front porch by the wardeness herself, a +mite of a woman, with wavy yellow hair, fine complexion +and washed-out blue eyes. Sensitive almost +to shyness, Mademoiselle de Castiglione appeared +more adapted for the seclusion of the veil in the +Ursuline Church than for the varied responsibilities of +a young ladies’ institute. At the approach of the +poet, she turned, looked startled, but finally came forward +bravely.</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ve read it again, Mr. Straws!” she exclaimed, +impetuously.</p> +<p>“What?” he returned, sternly, pausing at the foot +of the steps.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_418' name='page_418'></a>418</span></div> +<p>“Your––your lovely Strophes!” she continued, timidly.</p> +<p>The bard frowned. “All great men profess to +scowl at flattery,” thought Straws. “She will have +but a poor opinion of me, if I do not appear an +offended Hector!”</p> +<p>“Mademoiselle, I excessively dislike compliments,” +he began aloud, but having gone thus far, his courage +and lack of chivalry failed him in the presence of her +dismay; he forgot his greatness, and hastened to add, +with an ingratiating smile: “Except when delivered +by such a charming person!”</p> +<p>“Oh, Mr. Straws!”</p> +<p>“This, Mademoiselle,” resumed the bard, “is the +young girl I spoke about. Her mother,” he added in +a low voice, “was a beautiful quadroon; her father”––here +Straws mentioned a name. The wardeness +flushed furiously. “Father died; always meant to +make it right; didn’t; crime of good intentions! +Virago of an aunt; regular termagant; hates the girl! +Where was a home to be found for her? Where”––gazing +around him––“save this––Eden? Where a +mother––save in one whose heart is the tenderest?”</p> +<p>Diplomatic Straws! Impulsively the wardeness +crossed to Celestina; her blue eyes beamed with sentiment +and friendliness. “I will give her my personal +attention,” she said. And then to the young girl: +“We will be friends, won’t we?”</p> +<p>“Yes,” replied Celestina, slowly, after a moment’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_419' name='page_419'></a>419</span> +discreet hesitation. She was glad the other did not +kiss her like Feu-de-joie.</p> +<p>“I always like,” said the wardeness, “to feel my +little girls are all my little friends.”</p> +<p>“Mademoiselle,” exclaimed the bard, “I’ll––I’ll dedicate +my next volume of poems to you!”</p> +<p>“Really, Mr. Straws!”</p> +<p>“For every kindness to her, you shall have a verse,” +he further declared.</p> +<p>“Then your dedication would be as long as +Homer!” she suddenly flashed out, her arm around +the child.</p> +<p>Straws looked at her quickly. It was too bad of +him! And that borrowed Don Juan smile! Nothing +could excuse it.</p> +<p>Castiglione busied herself with Celestina’s ribbons. +“Whoever did tie that bow-knot?” she observed.</p> +<p>“Good-by, Celestina,” said Straws.</p> +<p>Celestina put her arms gravely about his neck and +he pressed his lips to her cheek. Then he strode +quickly toward the gate. Just before passing out, +he looked back. The wardeness had finished adjusting +the ribbon and was contemplatively inspecting +it. Celestina, as though unconscious of the attention, +was gazing after the poet, and when he turned into +the road, her glance continued to rest upon the gate.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_420' name='page_420'></a>420</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_THE_BEST_OF_LIFE' id='CHAPTER_IV_THE_BEST_OF_LIFE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>“THE BEST OF LIFE”</h3> +</div> +<p>On a certain evening about a month later, the tropical +rains had flooded the thoroughfares, until St. +Charles Street needed but a Rialto and a little imagination +to convert it into a watery highway of another +Venice, while as for Canal Street, its name was as +applicable as though it were spanned by a Bridge of +Sighs. In the narrow streets the projecting eaves +poured the water from the roof to the sidewalks, deluging +the pedestrians. These minor thoroughfares +were tributary to the main avenues and gushed their +rippling currents into them, as streams supply a +river, until the principal streets flowed swiftly with +the dirty water that choked their gutters. The rain +splashed and spattered on the sidewalks, fairly flooding +out the fruit venders and street merchants who +withstood the deluge for a time and then were forced +to vanish with their portable stores. The cabby, +phlegmatic to wind and weather, sat on his box, shedding +the moisture from his oil-skin coat and facing a +cloud of steam which presumably concealed a horse.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_421' name='page_421'></a>421</span></div> +<p>The dark night and the downpour made the <i>cafés</i> +look brighter. Umbrellas flitted here and there, skilfully +piloted beneath swinging signs and low balconies, +evading awning posts and high hats as best +they might. There were as many people out as usual, +but they were hurrying to their destinations, even the +languid creole beauty, all lace and alabaster, moved +with the sprightliness of a maid of Gotham.</p> +<p>Straws, editor and rhymster, was seated on the +semi-Oriental, semi-French gallery of the little <i>café</i>, +called the Veranda, sipping his absinthe, smoking a +cheroot and watching the rain drip from the roof of +the balcony, spatter on the iron railing and form a +shower bath for the pedestrians who ventured from +beneath the protecting shelter. Before him was paper, +partly covered with well-nigh illegible versification, +and a bottle of ink, while a goose-quill, tool of the +tuneful Nine, was expectantly poised in mid air.</p> +<p>“Confound it!” he said to himself. “I can’t write +in the attic any more, since Celestina has gone, and +apparently I can’t write away from it. Since she +left, the dishes haven’t been washed; my work has +run down at the heels, and everything is going to the +dogs generally. And now this last thing has upset +me quite. ‘In the twinkling of an eye,’ says the +sacred Book. But I must stop thinking, or I’ll never +complete this poem. Now to make my mind a blank; +a fitting receptacle to receive inspiration!”</p> +<p>The bard’s figure swayed uncertainly on the stool. +In the lively race through a sonnet, it was often, of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_422' name='page_422'></a>422</span> +late, a matter of doubt with Straws, whether Bacchus +or Calliope would prevail at the finish, and to-night +the jocund god had had a perceptible start. “Was +ever a poet so rhyme-fuddled?” muttered the impatient +versifier. “An inebriating trade, this poetizing!”––and +he reached for the absinthe. “If I am +not careful, these rhymes will put me under the +table!”</p> +<p>“Nappy, eh?” said a voice at his elbow, as a dripping +figure approached, deposited his hat on one chair +and himself in another. The newcomer had a long, +Gothic face and a merry-wise expression.</p> +<p>The left hand of the poet waved mechanically, imposing +silence; the quill dived suddenly to paper, +trailed twice across it, and then was cast aside, as +Straws looked up.</p> +<p>“Yes,” he replied to the other’s interrogation. “It’s +all on account of Celestina’s leaving me. You ought +to see my room. Even a poet’s soul revolts against +it. So what can I do, save make my home amid +convivial haunts?” The poet sighed. “And you, +Phazma; how are you feeling?”</p> +<p>“Sober as a judge!”</p> +<p>“Then you shall judge of this last couplet,” exclaimed +Straws quickly. “It has cost me much effort. +The editor wanted it. It seemed almost too sad a +subject for my halting muse. There are some things +which should be sacred even from us, Phazma. But +what is to be done when the editor-in-chief commands? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_423' name='page_423'></a>423</span> +‘Ours not to reason why!’ The poem is a +monody on the tragedy at the theater.”</p> +<p>“At the St. Charles?” said Phazma, musingly. “As +I passed, it was closed. It seemed early for the performance +to be over. Yet the theater was dark; all +the lights had gone out.”</p> +<p>“More than the lights went out,” answered Straws, +gravely; “a life went out!”</p> +<p>“I don’t exactly––Oh, you refer to Miss Carew’s +farewell?”</p> +<p>“No; to Barnes’!”</p> +<p>“Barnes’!” exclaimed his surprised listener.</p> +<p>“Yes; he is dead; gone out like the snuff of a candle! +Died in harness, before the footlights!”</p> +<p>“During the performance!” cried the wondering +Phazma. “Why, only this afternoon I met him, apparently +hale and hearty, and now––you tell me he +has paid the debt of nature?”</p> +<p>“As we must all pay it,” returned Straws. “He +acted as if he were dazed while the play was in +progress and I could not but notice it, standing in the +wings. The prompter spoke of it to me. ‘I don’t +know what is the matter with Mr. Barnes,’ he said, +‘I have had to keep throwing him his lines.’ Even +Miss Carew rallied him gently between acts on his +subdued manner.</p> +<p>“‘This is our last performance together,’ he said +absently. She gave him a reproachful look and he +added, quickly: ‘Do I appear gloomy, my dear? I +never felt happier.’</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_424' name='page_424'></a>424</span></div> +<p>“At the end of the second act he seemed to arouse +himself, when she, as Isabella, said: ‘I’ll fit his mind +to death, for his soul’s rest.’ He gazed at her long +and earnestly, his look caressing her wherever she +moved. Beginning the prison scene with spirit, he +had proceeded to,</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“‘Reason thus with life;<br /> +If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing<br /> +That none but fools would keep––’</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>When suddenly he threw up his arms and fell upon +the stage, his face toward the audience. With a cry +I shall never forget, Miss Carew rushed to him and +took his head in her arms, gazing at him wildly, and +calling to him piteously. The curtain went down, +but nothing could be done, and life quickly ebbed. +Once, only, his lips moved: ‘Your mother––there!––where +the play never ends!’ and it was over.”</p> +<p>“It is like a romance,” said Phazma, finally, at the +conclusion of this narration.</p> +<p>“Say, rather, reality! The masque is over! In +that final sleep Jack Pudding lies with Roscius; the +tragedian does not disdain the mummer, and beautiful +Columbine, all silver spangles and lace, is company +for the clown. ’Tis the only true republic, +Phazma; death’s Utopia!”</p> +<p>“But to think he should have died with those words +of the poet on his lips?”</p> +<p>“A coincidence!” answered Straws. “No more notable +than the death of Edmund Kean, who, when he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_425' name='page_425'></a>425</span> +reached the passage ‘Farewell, Othello’s occupation’s +gone!’ fell back unconscious; or that of John Palmer, +who, after reciting ‘There is another and a better +world,’ passed away without a pang.”</p> +<p>A silence fell between the two poets; around them +shadows appeared and vanished. Phazma finished +his syrup and arose.</p> +<p>“Don’t go,” said Straws. “My own thoughts are +poor company. Recite some of your madrigals, that’s +a good fellow! What a wretched night! These +rain-drops are like the pattering feet of the invisible +host. Some simple song, Phazma!”</p> +<p>“As many as you please!” cried his flattered brother-bard. +“What shall it be?”</p> +<p>“One of your Rhymes for Children. Your ‘Boy’s +Kingdom,’ beginning:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“When I was young, I dreamed of knights<br /> +And dames with silken trains.”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>“Thou shalt have it, <i>mon ami</i>!”</p> +<p>And Phazma gaily caught up the refrain, while +Straws beat time to the tinkling measures.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>The last entry in the date-book, or diary, of Barnes +seems curiously significant as indicating a knowledge +that his end was near. For the first time in the volume +he rambles on in a reminiscent mood about his +boyhood days:</p> +<p>“The first bit of good fortune I ever enjoyed was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_426' name='page_426'></a>426</span> +when as a lad in sweeping a crossing in the neighborhood +of the Strand I found a bright, shining sovereign. +How tightly I grasped it in my little fist that +night when I slept in a doorway! I dared not trust +it in my pocket. The next night I walked to the +ticket-seller at Drury Lane, and demanded a seat +down stairs. ‘Gallery seats sold around the corner,’ +said this imposing gentleman with a prodigious +frown, and, abashed, I slunk away. My dream of +being near the grand people vanished and I climbed +once more to my place directly under the roof.</p> +<p>“My next bit of good fortune happened in this +wise. Sheridan, the playwright-orator, attracted my +attention on Piccadilly one day, and, for the delight of +gazing upon him, I followed. When he stopped, I +stopped; when he advanced, I did likewise. I felt +that I was treading in the footsteps of a king. Suddenly +he paused, wheeled about and confronted me, +a raw-boned, ragged, awkward lad of fourteen. +‘What one of my creditors has set you following me?’ +he demanded. ‘None, sir,’ I stammered. ‘I only +wanted to look at the author of “The Rivals.”’ He +appeared much amused and said: ‘Egad! So you +are a patron of the drama, my boy?’ I muttered +something in the affirmative. He regarded my appearance +critically. ‘I presume you would not be +averse to genteel employment, my lad?’ he asked. +With that he scribbled a moment and handed me a +note to the property man of Drury Lane. My heart +was too full; I had no words to thank him. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_427' name='page_427'></a>427</span> +tears were in my eyes, which, noting, he remarked, +with an assumption of sternness: ‘Are you sure, boy, +you are not a bailiff in disguise?’ At this I laughed +and he left me. The note procured me an engagement +as errand boy at the stage-door and later I +rose to the dignity of scene-shifter. How truly typical +of this man’s greatness, to help lift a homeless +lad out of the gutters of London town!</p> +<p>“But I am rambling on as though writing an autobiography, +to be read when I am gone––”</p> +<p>Here the entry ceases and the rest of the pages in +the old date-book are blank.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_428' name='page_428'></a>428</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_LAWYERS_TIDINGS' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_LAWYERS_TIDINGS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE LAWYER’S TIDINGS</h3> +</div> +<p>The sudden and tragic death of Constance’s foster-father––which +occurred virtually as narrated by +Straws––set a seal of profound sadness on the heart +of the young girl. “Good sir, adieu!” she had said +in the nunnery scene and the eternal parting had +shortly followed. Her affection for the old manager +had been that of a loving daughter; the grief she +should have experienced over the passing of the marquis +was transferred to the memory of one who had +been a father through love’s kinship. In the far-away +past, standing at the bier of her mother, the +manager it was who had held her childish hand, consoling +her and sharing her affliction, and, in those +distant but unforgotten days of trouble, the young +girl and the homeless old man became all in all to each +other.</p> +<p>Years had rolled by; the child that prattled by his +side became the stately girl, but the hand-clasp at that +grave had never been relinquished. She could not +pretend to mourn the death of the marquis, her own +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_429' name='page_429'></a>429</span> +father; had he not ever been dead to her; as dead as +the good wife (or bad wife) of that nobleman; as dead +as Gross George, and all the other honored and dishonored +figures of that misty past? But Barnes’ death +was the abrupt severing of ties, strengthened by years +of tender association, and, when his last summons +came, she felt herself truly alone.</p> +<p>In an old cemetery, amid the crumbling bricks, +Barnes was buried, his sealed tomb above ground +bearing in its inscription the answer to the duke’s +query: “Thy Best of Life is Sleep.” After the +manager’s death and Constance’s retirement from the +stage, it naturally followed that the passengers of the +chariot became separated. Mrs. Adams continued to +play old woman parts throughout the country, remaining +springy and buoyant to the last. Susan +transferred herself and her talents to another stock +company performing in New Orleans, while Kate +procured an engagement with a traveling organization. +Adonis followed in her train. It had become +like second nature to quarrel with Kate, and at the +mere prospect of separation, he forthwith was driven +to ask her for her hand, and was accepted––on probation, +thus departing in leading strings. Hawkes, +melancholy as of old, drifted into a comic part in a +“variety show,” acquiring new laurels as a dry comedian +of the old school. But he continued to live alone +in the world, mournfully sufficient unto himself.</p> +<p>Constance remained in New Orleans. There the +old manager had found his final resting place and she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_430' name='page_430'></a>430</span> +had no definite desire to go elsewhere. Adrift in +the darkness of the present, the young girl was too +perplexed to plan for the future. So she remained +in the house Barnes had rented shortly before his +death. An elderly gentlewoman of fallen fortunes, +to whom this semi-rural establishment belonged, Constance +retained as a companion, passing her time quietly, +soberly, almost in solitude. This mansion, last +remnant of its owner’s earthly estate, was roomy and +spacious, nestling among the oranges and inviting +seclusion with its pretentious wall surrounding the +grounds.</p> +<p>The old-fashioned gentlewoman, poor and proud, +was a fitting figure in that ancient house, where in former +days gay parties had assembled. But now the +principal callers at the old house were the little fat +priest, with a rosy smile, who looked after the aged +lady’s soul, of which she was most solicitous in these +later days, and the Count de Propriac, who came ostensibly +to see the elderly woman and chat about genealogy +and extraction, but was obviously not unmindful +of the presence of the young girl nor averse to seeking +to mitigate her sorrow. Culver, the lawyer, too, +came occasionally, to talk about her affairs, but often +her mind turned impatiently from figures and markets +to the subtle rhythm of Shakespeare. She regretted +having left the stage, feeling the loneliness of this +simple existence; yet averse to seeking diversion, and +shunning rather than inviting society. As the inert +hours crept by, she longed for the forced wakefulness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_431' name='page_431'></a>431</span> +and stir of other days––happy days of insecurity; +fleeting, joyous days, gone now beyond recall!</p> +<p>But while she was striving to solve these new +problems of her life they were all being settled for +her by Fate, that arrogant meddler. Calling one morning, +Culver, nosegay in hand, was obliged to wait +longer than usual and employed the interval in casually +examining his surroundings––and, incidentally, +himself. First, with the vanity of youngish old gentlemen, +he gazed into a tall mirror, framed in the fantastic +style of the early Venetians; a glass which had +belonged to the marquis and had erstwhile reflected +the light beauty of his noble spouse. Pausing about +as long as it would have taken a lady to adjust a curl, +he peeped into a Dutch cabinet of ebony and mother-of-pearl +and was studying a charming creature painted +on ivory, whose head like that of Bluebeard’s wife was +subsequently separated from her lovely shoulders, +when a light footstep behind him interrupted his +scrutiny. Turning, he greeted the young girl, and, +with stately gallantry, presented the nosegay.</p> +<p>“How well you are looking!” he said. “Though +there might be a little more color, perhaps, like some +of these flowers. If I were a doctor, I should prescribe: +Less cloister; more city!”</p> +<p>She took the flowers, meeting his kindly gaze with +a faint smile.</p> +<p>“Most patients would like such prescriptions,” he +went on. “I should soon become a popular society +physician.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_432' name='page_432'></a>432</span></div> +<p>But although he spoke lightly, his manner was +partly forced and he regarded her furtively. Their +brief acquaintance had awakened in him an interest, +half-paternal, half-curious. Women were an unknown, +but beautiful quantity; from the vantage point +of a life of single blessedness, he vaguely, but quixotically +placed them in the same category with flowers, +and his curiosity was no harsher than that of a +gardener studying some new variety of bud or blossom. +Therefore he hesitated in what he was about +to say, shifting in his chair uneasily when they were +seated, but finally coming to the point with:</p> +<p>“Have you read the account of the engagement between +the Mexican and the American forces at Vera +Cruz?”</p> +<p>“No; not yet,” she admitted.</p> +<p>“Nor the list of––of casualties?” he continued, hesitatingly.</p> +<p>“The casualties!” she repeated. “Why––”</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper has no further interest in the marquis’ +sous,” he said quickly.</p> +<p>She gazed straight before her, calm and composed. +This absence of any exhibition of feeling reassured +the attorney.</p> +<p>“He is––dead?” she asked quietly.</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“How did he die?”</p> +<p>“Gallantly,” replied the caller, now convinced she +had no interest in the matter, save that of a mere +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_433' name='page_433'></a>433</span> +acquaintance. “His death is described in half a column. +You see he did not live in vain!”</p> +<p>“Was he––killed in battle?”</p> +<p>“In a skirmish. His company was sent to break up +a band of guerilla rancheros at Antigua. They ambushed +him; he drove them out of the thicket but +fell––You have dropped your flowers. Allow me!––at +the head of his men.”</p> +<p>“At the head of his men!” She drew in her breath.</p> +<p>“There passed the last of an ill-fated line,” said the +lawyer, reflectively. “Poor fellow! He started with +such bright prospects, graduating from the military +college with unusual honors. Ambitious, light-hearted, +he went to Africa to carve out a name in the +army. But fate was against him. The same ship +that took him over carried back, to the marquis, the +story of his brother’s disgrace––”</p> +<p>“His brother’s disgrace!” she exclaimed.</p> +<p>Culver nodded. “He sold a French stronghold in +Africa, Miss Carew.”</p> +<p>Had the attorney been closely observing her he +would have noticed the sudden look of bewilderment +that crossed her face. She stared at him with her +soul in her eyes.</p> +<p>“Ernest Saint-Prosper’s––brother?”</p> +<p>The turmoil of her thoughts held her as by a spell; +in the disruption of a fixed conclusion her brain was +filled with new and poignant reflections. Unconsciously +she placed a nervous hand upon his arm.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_434' name='page_434'></a>434</span></div> +<p>“Then Ernest Saint-Prosper who was––killed in +Mexico was not the traitor?”</p> +<p>“Certainly not!” exclaimed Culver, quickly, “Owing +to the disgrace, I am sure, more than to any other +reason, he bade farewell to his country––and now lies +unmourned in some mountain ravine. It is true the +marquis quarreled with him, disliking not a little the +young man’s republican ideas, but––my dear young +lady!––you are ill?”</p> +<p>“No, no!” she returned, hastily, striving to maintain +her self-possession. “How––do you know this?”</p> +<p>“Through the marquis, himself,” he replied, somewhat +uneasy beneath her steady gaze. “He told me +the story in order to protect the estate from any possible +pretensions on the part of the traitor. The renegade +was reported dead, but the marquis, nevertheless +remained skeptical. He did not believe in the +old saw about the devil being dead. ‘<i>Le diable</i> lives +always,’ he said.”</p> +<p>The visitor observed a perceptible change in the +young girl, just what he could not define, but to him +it seemed mostly to lie in her eyes where something +that baffled him looked out and met his glance.</p> +<p>“His brother was an officer in the French army?” +she asked, as though forcing herself to speak.</p> +<p>“Yes; ten years older than Ernest Saint-Prosper, +he had already made a career for himself. How +eagerly, then, must the younger brother have looked +forward to meeting him; to serving with one who, +in his young eyes, was all that was brave and noble! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_435' name='page_435'></a>435</span> +What a bitter awakening from the dream! It is not +those we hate who can injure us most––only those we +love can stab us so deeply!”</p> +<p>Mechanically she answered the lawyer, and, when +he prepared to leave, the hand, given him at parting, +was as cold as ice.</p> +<p>“Remember,” he said, admonishingly; “less cloister, +more city!”</p> +<p>Some hours later, the old lady, dressed in her heavy +silk and brocade and with snow-white hair done up in +imposing fashion, rapped on Constance’s door, but +received no answer. Knocking again, with like result, +she entered the room, discovering the young girl +on the bed, her cheeks tinted like the rose, her eyes +with no gleam of recognition in them, and her lips +moving, uttering snatches of old plays. Taking her +hand, the old lady found it hot and dry.</p> +<p>“Bless me!” she exclaimed. “She is down with a +fever.” And at once prepared a simple remedy which +soon silenced the babbling lips in slumber, after which +she sent for the doctor.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_436' name='page_436'></a>436</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_COUNCIL_OF_WAR' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_COUNCIL_OF_WAR'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE COUNCIL OF WAR</h3> +</div> +<p>“Adjutant, tell Colonel Saint-Prosper I wish to see +him.”</p> +<p>The adjutant saluted and turned on his heel, while +General Scott bent over the papers before him, studying +a number of rough pencil tracings. Absorbed in his +task, the light of two candles on the table brought +into relief, against the dark shadows, a face of rugged +character and marked determination. Save for a +slight contraction of the brow, he gave no evidence +of the mental concentration he bestowed upon the +matter in hand, which was to lead to the culmination +of the struggle and to vindicate the wisdom and boldness +of his policy.</p> +<p>“You sent for me, General?”</p> +<p>An erect, martial figure stood respectfully at the +entrance of the tent.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the General, pushing the papers from +him. “I have been studying your drawings of the +defensive works at San Antonio Garita and find them +entirely comprehensive. A council of officers has +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_437' name='page_437'></a>437</span> +been called, and perhaps it will be as well for you to +remain.”</p> +<p>“At what time shall I be here, General?”</p> +<p>“It is about time now,” answered the commander-in-chief, +consulting his watch. “You have quite recovered +from your wounds?” he added, kindly.</p> +<p>“Yes, thank you, General.”</p> +<p>“I see by the newspapers you were reported dead. +If your friends read that it will cause them needless +anxiety. You had better see that the matter is corrected.”</p> +<p>“It is hardly worth while,” returned the young +man, slowly.</p> +<p>The commanding general glanced at him in some +surprise. “A strange fellow!” he thought. “Has he +reasons for wishing to be considered dead? However, +that is none of my business. At any rate, he is +a good soldier.” And, after a moment, he continued: +“Cerro Gordo was warm work, but there is warmer +yet in store for us. Only Providence, not the Mexicans, +can stop us. But here are the officers,” as +General Pillow, Brevet-General Twiggs and a number +of other officers entered.</p> +<p>The commander-in-chief proceeded to give such information +as he had, touching the approaches to the +city. Many of the officers favored operating against +San Antonio Garita, others attacking Chapultepec. +Saint-Prosper, when called on, stated that the ground +before the San Antonio gate was intersected by many +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_438' name='page_438'></a>438</span> +irrigating ditches and that much of the approach was +under water.</p> +<p>“Then you would prefer storming a fortress to taking +a ditch?” said one of the generals, satirically.</p> +<p>“A series of ditches,” replied the other.</p> +<p>“Colonel Saint-Prosper is right,” exclaimed the commanding +general. “I had already made up my mind. +Let it be the western gate, then.”</p> +<p>And thus was brought to a close one of the most +memorable councils of war, for it determined the fate +of the City of Mexico.</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper looked older than when seen in +New Orleans, as though he had endured much in that +brief but hard campaign. His wound had incapacitated +him for only a few months, and in spite of the +climate and a woful lack of medical attendance and +nourishing supplies, his hardy constitution stood him +in such stead he was on his feet and in the saddle, +while his comrades languished and died in the fierce +heat of the temporary hospitals. His fellow-officers +knew him as a fearless soldier, but a man reticent +about himself, who made a confidant of no one. Liked +for his ready, broad military qualities, it was a matter +of comment, nevertheless, that no one knew anything +about him except that he had served in the +French army and was highly esteemed by General +Scott as a daring and proficient engineer.</p> +<p>One evening shortly before the skirmish of Antigua, +a small Mexican town had been ransacked, +where were found cattle, bales of tobacco, pulque and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_439' name='page_439'></a>439</span> +wine. At the rare feast which followed a veteran +drank to his wife; a young man toasted his sweetheart, +and a third, with moist eyes, sang the praises +of his mother. In the heart of the enemy’s land, +amid the uncertainties of war, remembrance carried +them back to their native soil, rugged New +England, the hills of Vermont, the prairies of Illinois, +the blue grass of Kentucky.</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper!” they cried, calling on him, when +the festivities were at their height.</p> +<p>“To you, gentlemen,” he replied, rising, glass in +hand. “I drink to your loved ones!”</p> +<p>“To your own!” cried a young man, flushed with +the wine.</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper gazed around that rough company, +brave hearts softened to tenderness, and, lifting his +canteen, said, after a moment’s hesitation:</p> +<p>“To a princess on a tattered throne!”</p> +<p>They looked at him in surprise. Who was this adventurer +who toasted princesses? The Mexican war +had brought many soldiers of fortune and titled gentlemen +from Europe to the new world, men who took +up the cause more to be fighting than that they cared +what the struggle was about. Was the “tattered +throne” Louis Philippe’s chair of state, torn by the mob +in the Tuileries? And what foreign princess was the +lady of the throne? But they took up the refrain +promptly, good-naturedly, and a chorus rolled out:</p> +<p>“To the princess!”</p> +<p>Little they knew she was but a poor stroller; an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_440' name='page_440'></a>440</span> +“impudent, unwomanish, graceless monster,” according +to Master Prynne.</p> +<p>After leaving the commanding general’s tent, Saint-Prosper +retired to rest in that wilderness which had +once been a monarch’s pleasure grounds. Now overhead +the mighty cypresses whispered their tales of +ancient glory and faded renown; the wind waved those +trailing beards, hoary with age; a gathering of venerable +giants, murmuring the days when the Aztec monarch +had once held courtly revels under the grateful +shadows of their branches. The moaning breeze +seemed the wild chant of the Indian priest in honor +of the war-god of Anahuac. It told of battles to come +and conflicts which would level to the dust the descendants +of the conquerors of that ill-starred country. +And so the soldier finally fell asleep, with that +requiem ringing in his ears.</p> +<p>When daybreak again penetrated the mountain recesses +and fell upon the valley, Saint-Prosper arose +to shake off a troubled slumber. An unhealthy mist +hung over the earth, like a miasma, and the officer +shivered as he walked in that depressing and noxious +atmosphere. It lay like a deleterious veil before the +glades where myrtles mingled with the wild limes. +It concealed from view a cross, said to have been +planted by Cortez––the cross he worshiped because +of its resemblance to the hilt of a sword!––and enveloped +the hoary trees that were old when Montezuma +was a boy or when Marina was beloved by the mighty +free-booter.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_441' name='page_441'></a>441</span></div> +<p>The shade resting on the valley appeared that of a +mighty, virulent hand. Out of the depths arose a +flock of dark-hued birds, soaring toward the morbific +fog; not moving like other winged creatures, with +harmony of motion, but rising without unity, and +filling the vale with discordant sounds. Nowhere +could these sable birds have appeared more unearthly +than in the “dark valley,” as it was called by the +natives, where the mists moved capriciously, yet remained +persistently within the circumference of this +natural cauldron, now falling like a pall and again +hovering in mid air. Suddenly the uncanny birds vanished +among the trees as quickly as they had arisen, +and there was something mysterious about their unwarranted +disappearance and the abrupt cessation of +clamorous cries.</p> +<p>While viewing this somber scene, Saint-Prosper +had made his way to a little adobe house which the +natives had built near the trail that led through the +valley. As he approached this hut he encountered a +dismal but loquacious sentinel, tramping before the +partly opened door.</p> +<p>“This is chilly work, guard?” said the young man, +pausing.</p> +<p>“Yis, Colonel,” replied the soldier, apparently grateful +for the interruption; “it’s a hot foight I prefer to +this cool dooty.”</p> +<p>“Whom are you guarding?” continued the officer.</p> +<p>“A spy, taken in the lines a few days ago. He’s +to be executed this morning at six. But I don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_442' name='page_442'></a>442</span> +think he will moind that, for it’s out of his head he is, +with the malaria.”</p> +<p>“He should have had medical attendance,” observed +the officer, stepping to the door.</p> +<p>“Faith, they’ll cure him at daybreak,” replied the +guard. “It’s a medicine that niver fails.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper pushed open the door. The interior +was so dim that at first he could not distinguish the +occupant, but when his eyes became accustomed to the +darkness, he discovered the figure of the prisoner, +who was lying with his back toward him on the ground +of the little hut with nothing but a thin blanket beneath +him. The only light revealing the barren details of +this Indian residence sifted through the small doorway +or peered timorously down through a narrow +aperture in the roof that served for a chimney. As +Saint-Prosper gazed at the prostrate man, the latter +moved uneasily, and from the parched lips fell a few +words:</p> +<p>“Lock the doors, Oly-koeks! Hear the songsters, +Mynheer Ten Breecheses! Birds of prey, you Dutch +varlet! What do you think of the mistress of the +manor? The serenading anti-renters have come for +her.” Then he repeated more slowly: “The squaw +Pewasch! For seventeen and one-half ells of duffels! +A rare principality for the scornful minx! +Lord! how the birds sing now around the manor––screech +owls, cat-birds, bobolinks!”</p> +<p>The soldier started back, vivid memories assailing +his mind. Who was this man whose brain, independent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_443' name='page_443'></a>443</span> +of the corporeal shell, played waywardly with +scenes, characters and events, indissolubly associated +with his own life?</p> +<p>“Do you know, Little Thunder, the Lord only rebuked +the Pharisees?” continued the prostrate man. +“Though the Pharisee triumphs after all! But it was +the stroller I wanted, not the principality.”</p> +<p>He stirred quickly, as if suddenly aware of the +presence of another in the hut, and, turning, lifted +his head in a startled manner, surveying the figure +near the doorway with conflicting emotions written +on his pallid countenance. Perhaps some fragment +of a dream yet lingered in his brain; perhaps he was +confused at the sight of a face that met his excited +look with one of doubt and bewilderment, but only +partial realization of the identity of the intruder came +to him in his fevered condition.</p> +<p>Arising deliberately, his body, like a machine, obeying +automatically some unconscious power, he confronted +the officer, who recognized in him, despite his +thin, worn face and eyes, unnaturally bright, the once +pretentious land baron, Edward Mauville. Moving +toward the door, gazing on Saint-Prosper as though +he was one of the figures of a disturbing phantasm, +he reached the threshold, and, lifting his hand above +his head, the prisoner placed it against one of the supports +of the hut and stood leaning there. From the +creation of his mind’s eye, as he doubtlessly, half-conscious +of his weakness, designated the familiar +form, he glanced at the sentinel and shook as though +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_444' name='page_444'></a>444</span> +abruptly conscious of his situation. Across the valley +the soldiers showed signs of bestirring themselves, the +smoke of many fires hovering earthward beneath the +mist. Drawing his thin frame proudly to its full +height, with a gesture of disdain for physical weakness, +and setting his keen, wild eyes upon the soldier, Mauville +said in a hollow tone:</p> +<p>“Is that really you, Mr. Saint-Prosper? At first +I thought you but a trick of the imagination. Well, +look your fill upon me! You are my Nemesis come +to see the end.”</p> +<p>“I am here by chance, Edward Mauville; an officer +in the American army!”</p> +<p>“And I, a spy in the Mexican army. So are we +authorized foes.”</p> +<p>Rubbing his trembling hands together, his eyes +shifted from the dark birds to the mists, then from the +phantom forests back to the hut, finally resting on +his shabby boots of yellow leather. The sunlight +penetrating a rift in the mist settled upon him as he +moved feebly and uncertainly through the doorway +and seated himself upon a stool. This sudden glow +brought into relief his ragged, unkempt condition, the +sallowness of his face, and his wasted form, and Saint-Prosper +could not but contrast pityingly this cheerless +object, in the garb of a ranchero, with the prepossessing, +sportive heir who had driven through the +Shadengo Valley.</p> +<p>Apparently now the sun was grateful to his bent, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_445' name='page_445'></a>445</span> +stricken figure, and, basking in it, he recalled his distress +of the previous night:</p> +<p>“This is better. Not long ago I awoke with chattering +teeth. ‘This,’ I said, ‘is life; a miasma, cold, +discomfort,’ Yes, yes; a fever, a miasma, with phantoms +fighting you––struggling to choke you––but +now”––he paused, and fumbling in his pocket, drew +out a cigarette case, which he opened, but found +empty. A cigar the other handed him he took mechanically +and lighted with scrupulous care. Near +at hand the guard, more cheerful under the prospect +of speedy relief from his duties, could be heard humming +to himself:</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'><span class='indent2'> </span>“Oh, Teady-foley, you are my darling,<br /> +You are my looking-glass night and morning––”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>Watching the smoker, Saint-Prosper asked himself +how came Mauville to be serving against his own +country, or why he should have enlisted at all, this +pleasure-seeking man of the world, to whom the hardships +of a campaign must have been as novel as distasteful.</p> +<p>“Are you satisfied with your trial?” said the soldier +at length.</p> +<p>“Yes,” returned Mauville, as if breaking from a reverie. +“I confess I am the secret agent of Santa Anna +and would have carried information from your lines. +I am here because there is more of the Latin than the +Anglo-Saxon in me. Many of the old families”––with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_446' name='page_446'></a>446</span> +a touch of insane pride––“did not regard the +purchase of Louisiana by the United States as a transaction +alienating them from other ties. Fealty is not +a commercial commodity. But this,” he added, scornfully, +“is something you can not understand. You +soldiers of fortune draw your swords for any master +who pays you.”</p> +<p>The wind moaned down the mountain side, and the +slender trees swayed and bent; only the heavy and +ponderous cactus remained motionless, a formidable +monarch receiving obeisance from supple courtiers. +Like cymbals, the leaves clashed around this armament +of power with its thousand spears out-thrust in +all directions.</p> +<p>The ash fell from the cigar as Mauville held the +weed before his eyes.</p> +<p>“It is an hour-glass,” he muttered. “When +smoked––Oh, for the power of Jupiter to order four +nights in one, the better to pursue his love follies! +Love follies,” he repeated, and, as a new train of +fancy was awakened, he regarded Saint-Prosper venomously.</p> +<p>“Do you know she is the daughter of a marquis?” +said Mauville, suddenly.</p> +<p>“Who?” asked the soldier.</p> +<p>“The stroller, of course. You can never win her,” +he added, contemptuously. “She knows all about that +African affair.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper started violently, but in a moment +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_447' name='page_447'></a>447</span> +Mauville’s expression changed, and he appeared +plunged in thought.</p> +<p>“The last time I saw her,” he said, half to himself, +“she was dressed in black––her face as noonday––her +hair black as midnight––crowning her with languorous +allurement!”</p> +<p>He repeated the last word several times like a man +in a dream.</p> +<p>“Allurement! allurement!” and again relapsed into +a silence that was half-stupor.</p> +<p>By this time the valley, with the growing of the day, +began to lose much of its evil aspect, and the eye, +tempted through glades and vistas, lingered upon gorgeous +forms of inflorescence. The land baron slowly +blew a wreath of smoke in the air––a circle, mute +reminder of eternity!––and threw the end of the +cigar into the bushes. Looking long and earnestly +at the surrounding scene, he started involuntarily. +“The dark valley––whar de mists am risin’––I see +yo’ da, honey––fo’ebber and fo’ebber––”</p> +<p>As he surveyed this prospect, with these words +ringing in his ears, the brief silence was broken by +a bugle call and the trampling of feet.</p> +<p>“The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall arise,” +said the prisoner, turning and facing the soldiers +calmly. “You have come for me?” he asked, quietly.</p> +<p>“Yes,” said the officer in command. “General Scott +has granted your request in view of certain circumstances, +and you will be shot, instead of hanged.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_448' name='page_448'></a>448</span></div> +<p>The face of the prisoner lighted wonderfully. He +drew himself erect and smiled with some of the assumption +of the old insolence, that expression Saint-Prosper +so well remembered! His features took on +a semblance to the careless, dashing look they had +borne when the soldier crossed weapons with him at +the Oaks, and he neither asked nor intended to give +quarter.</p> +<p>“I thank you,” he observed, courteously. “At least, +I shall die like a gentleman. I am ready, sir! Do +not fasten my hands. A Mauville can die without +being tied or bound.”</p> +<p>The officer hesitated: “As to that––” he began.</p> +<p>“It is a reasonable request,” said Saint-Prosper, in +a low tone.</p> +<p>Mauville abruptly wheeled; his face, dark and sinister, +was lighted with envenomed malignity; an unnaturally +clear perception replaced the stupor of his +brain, and, bending toward Saint-Prosper, his eye +rested upon him with such rancor and malevolence +the soldier involuntarily drew away. But one word +fell from the land baron’s lips, low, vibrating, full of +inexpressible bitterness. “Traitor!”</p> +<p>“Come, come!” interrupted the officer in command +of the execution party; “time is up. As I was told +not to fasten your hands, you shall have your wish. +Confess now, that is accommodating?”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” returned Mauville carelessly, relapsing +into his old manner. “You are an obliging fellow! +I would do as much for you.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_449' name='page_449'></a>449</span></div> +<p>“Not much danger of that,” growled the other. +“But we’ll take the will for the deed. Forward, +march!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>After the reverberations, carried from rock to rock +with menacing reiteration, had ceased, the stillness +was absolute. Even the song-bird remained frightened +into silence by those awful echoes. Then the +sun rested like a benediction on the land and the white +cross of Cortez was distinctly outlined against the blue +sky. But soon the long roll of drums followed this +interval of quiet.</p> +<p>“Fall in!” “Attention; shoulder arms!” And the +sleeping spirit of the Aztec war-god floated in the +murmur which, increasing in volume, arose to tumultuous +shout.</p> +<p>“On to Chapultepec! On to Chapultepec!” came +from a thousand throats; arms glistened in the sun, +bugles sounded resonant in the air, and the pattering +noise of horses’ hoofs mingled with the stentorian +voices of the rough teamsters and the cracking of the +whips. Like an irresistible, all-compelling wave, the +troops swept out of the valley to hurl themselves +against castle and fortress and to plant their colors in +the heart of the capital city.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_450' name='page_450'></a>450</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_MOUNT' id='CHAPTER_VII_A_MEETING_ON_THE_MOUNT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>A MEETING ON THE MOUNT</h3> +</div> +<p>Clothed at its base in a misty raiment of purple, the +royal hill lifted above the valley an Olympian crest +of porphyritic rock into the fathomless blue. Here +not Jupiter and his court looked serenely down upon +the struggling race, “indifferent from their awful +height,” but a dark-hued god, in Aztec vestments, +gazed beyond the meadows to the floating flower beds, +the gardens with their baths, and the sensuous dancing +girls. All this, but a panorama between naps, +soon faded away; the god yawned, drew his +cloak of humming bird feathers more closely about +him and sank back to rest. An uproar then disturbed +his paleozoic dreams; like fluttering spirits of the garish +past, the butterflies arose in the forest glades; +and the voices of old seemed to chant the Aztec psalm: +“The horrors of the tomb are but the cradle of the +sun, and the dark shadows of death the brilliant lights +for the stars.” Even so they had chanted when the +early free-booters burst upon the scene and beheld +the valley with its frame-work of mountains and two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_451' name='page_451'></a>451</span> +guardian volcanoes, the Gog and Magog of the table-land.</p> +<p>Now again, from the towering column of Montezuma’s +cypress, to the city marked by spires, the +thunder rolled and echoed onward even to the pine-clad +cliffs and snow-crowned summits of the rocky +giants. Puffs of smoke dotted the valley beneath +the mount, and, as the answering reports reverberated +across space, nature’s mortars in the inclosure of +mountains sent forth threatening wreaths of white +in sympathy with the eight-inch howitzers and sixteen-pounders +turned upon the crest of the royal hill.</p> +<p>When the trees were yet wet with their bath of +dew the booming of artillery and the clattering of +small arms dispelled that peace which partook of no +harsher discord than the purling of streams and the +still, small voices of the forest. Through the groves +where the spirit of Donna Marina––the lost love of +the marauder––was said to wander, shrieked the round +shot, shells and grape. Through tangled shrubberies, +bright with flowers and colored berries, pierced the +discharge of canister; the air, fragrant at the dawn +with orange blossom and starry jessamine, was +noisome with suffocating, sulphurous fumes, and, beneath +the fetid shroud, figures in a fog heedlessly +trampled the lilies, the red roses and “flowers of the +heart.”</p> +<p>From the castle on the summit––mortal trespass +upon the immortal pale of the gods!––the upward +shower was answered by an iron downpour, and two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_452' name='page_452'></a>452</span> +storming parties, with ladders, pick-axes and crows, +advanced, one on each side of the hill, to the attack. +Boom! boom! before one of the parties, climbing and +scrambling to the peak, belched the iron missives of +destruction from the concealed mouths of heavy guns, +followed by the rattling shower from small arms.</p> +<p>Surprised, they paused, panting from the swift +ascent, some throwing themselves prone upon the +earth, while the grape and canister passed harmlessly +over them, others seeking such shelter as rocks, trees +and shrubs afforded. Here and there a man fell, but +was not suffered to lie long exposed to the fire of the +redoubt which, strongly manned, held them in check +midway to the summit. Doggedly their comrades +rescued the wounded and quickly conveyed them to +the rear.</p> +<p>“They’ve set out their watch-dogs,” remarked the +general commanding the assault on that side of the +hill, to one of his officers, as he critically surveyed +the formidable defense through the tangled shrubbery. +“Here is a battery we hadn’t reckoned on.”</p> +<p>“It was to be expected, sir,” responded the officer. +“They were sure to have some strong point we +couldn’t locate.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” grumbled the general; “in such a jumble of +foliage and rocks it would take an eagle’s eye to pick +out all their miserable ambuscades.”</p> +<p>“I have no doubt, sir, the men are rested now,” +ventured the other.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_453' name='page_453'></a>453</span></div> +<p>“No doubt they are,” chuckled the general, still +studying the situation, glancing to the right and the +left of the redoubt. “The more fighting they get the +more they want. They are not so band-boxy as they +were, but remind me of an old, mongrel dog I once +owned. He wasn’t much to look at––but I’ll tell you +the story later.” A sudden quick decision appearing +on his face. Evidently the working of his mind had +been foreign to his words.</p> +<p>“Saint-Prosper,” he said, “I suppose the boys on the +other side are going up all the time? I promised +our troops the honor of pulling down that flag. I’m +a man of my word; go ahead and take the batteries +and”––stroking his long gray goatee––“beat Pillow to +the top.”</p> +<p>A word; a command; they rushed forward; not a +laggard in the ranks; not a man who shirked the +leaden shower; not one who failed to offer his breast +openly and fearlessly to the red death which to them +might come when it would. Unwaveringly over +rocks, chasms and mines, they followed the tall figure +of their leader; death underfoot, death overhead! +What would courage avail against concealed mines? +Yet like a pack of hounds that reck naught while the +scent is warm, they pressed forward, ever forward; +across the level opening, where some dropped out of +the race, and over the ramparts! A brief struggle; +confusion, turmoil; something fearful occurring that +no eye could see in its entirety through the smoke; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_454' name='page_454'></a>454</span> +afterwards, a great shout that announced to the palace +on the mount the fate of the intermediary batteries!</p> +<p>But there was sharper and more arduous work to +come; this, merely a foretaste of the last, fierce stand +of the besieged; a stand in which they knew they were +fighting for everything, where defeat meant the second +conquest of Mexico! From the batteries the assailants +had captured to the foot of the castle seemed but a +little way to them in their zeal; no one thought of +weariness, or the toil of the ascent. But one determination +possessed them––to end it all quickly; to +carry everything before them! Their victory at the +redoubt gave them such sudden, wild confidence that +castles seemed no more than ant-hills––to be trampled +on! Instinctively every man felt sure of the day and +already experienced the glory of conquering that historic +hill; that invincible fortress! Over the great +valley, so beautiful in its physical features, so inspiring +in its associations, should hang the stars of +the North, with the stars of heaven!</p> +<p>The scaling ladders were brought up and planted +by the storming party; the first to mount were hurled +back, killed or wounded, to the rocks below, but others +took their places; a lodgment was effected, and, like +the water bursting over a dike, a tide of besiegers +found ingress.</p> +<p>Under a galling fire, with shouts that rang above +the noise of rifles, they drove the masses of the enemy +from their guns; all save one, not a Mexican from his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_455' name='page_455'></a>455</span> +fair skin, who stood confidently beside his piece, an +ancient machine, made of copper and strengthened +by bands of iron. A handsome face; dead to morality, +alive to pleasure; the face of a man past thirty, +the expression of immortal one-and-twenty! A figure +from the pages of Ovid, metamorphosed to a gunner +of Santa Anna! The bright radiance from a +cloudless sky, the smoke having drifted westward +from the summit, fell upon him and his gun.</p> +<p>With inscrutable calmness, one hand fondling the +breech, he regarded the fleeting figures and the +hoarse-throated pursuers; then, as if to time the opportunity +to the moment, he bent over the gun.</p> +<p>“I wonder if this first-born can still bark!” he muttered.</p> +<p>But an instant’s hesitation, friend and foe being +fairly intermingled, was fatal to his purpose; the +venerable culverin remained silent, and the gunner +met hand-to-hand a figure that sprang from the incoming +host. Simultaneously the rapid firing of a +new wave of besiegers from the other side of the castle +threw once more a pall of smoke over the scene, +and, beneath its mantle, the two men were like figures +struggling in a fog, feeling rather than seeing each +other’s blade, divining by touch the cut, pass or aggressive +thrust.</p> +<p>“Faugh!” laughed the gunner. “They’ll kill us +with smoke.”</p> +<p>The discharge of small arms gradually ceased; the +fresh breeze again cleared the crest of the mount, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_456' name='page_456'></a>456</span> +showing the white walls of the structure which had +been so obstinately defended; the valley, where the +batteries now lay silent, having spoken their thundering +prologue, and the alien flag, the regimental colors of +the invaders, floating from the upper walls. Below +on the road toward the city, a band of white across +the table land, successive spots of smoke momentarily +appeared and were succeeded, after a considerable +interval, by the rub-a-dub of rifles. From the disenchanting +distance the charge of a body of men, in the +attempt to dislodge a party entrenched in a ditch, lost +the tragic aspect of warfare, and the soldiers who +fell seemed no larger than the toy figures of a nursery +game.</p> +<p>With the brightening of the summit to the light +of day, eagerly the two combatants near the copper +gun gazed for the first time into each other’s eyes, +and, at that trenchant glance, a tremor crossed the +features of the gunner, and his arm, with its muscles +of steel, suddenly became inert, powerless.</p> +<p>“<i>Mon Dieu!</i>––’Tis Ernest––little Ernest!” he exclaimed, +wonderingly.</p> +<p>For all that his opponent’s sword, ominously red +from the fierce first assault at the wall, was at his +breast, he made no effort to oppose its threatening +point, when a grape-shot, swifter than the blade, +fairly struck the gunner. With blood streaming +from his shoulder, he swayed from side to side, passing +his hand before his eyes as one who questions +oracular evidence, and then sank to the earth with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_457' name='page_457'></a>457</span> +an arm thrown over the tube of copper. Above his +bronzed face the light curls waved like those of a +Viking; though his clothes were dyed with the sanguinary +hue and his chest rose and fell with labored +breathing, it was with an almost quizzical glance he +regarded the other who stood as if turned to stone.</p> +<p>“That was not so easily done, Ernest,” he said, not +unkindly, “but surprise broke down my guard.”</p> +<p>“Before God, it was not I!” cried the soldier, starting +from a trance.</p> +<p>“And if it were!” With his free arm he felt his +shoulder. “I believe you are right,” he observed, +coolly. “Swords break no bones.”</p> +<p>“I will get a surgeon,” said the other, as he turned.</p> +<p>“What for? To shake his head? Get no one, or +if––for boyish days!––you want to serve me, lend me +your canteen.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper held it to his lips, and he drank +thirstily.</p> +<p>“That was a draught in an oasis. I had the desert +in my throat––the desert, the wild desert! What a +place to meet! But they caught Abd-el-Kader, and +there was nothing for it but to flee! Besides, I am +a rolling stone.”</p> +<p>To hear him who had betrayed his country and +shed the blood of his comrades, characterize himself by +no harsher term was an amazing revelation of the +man’s character.</p> +<p>The space around them had become almost deserted; +here and there lay figures on the ground among +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_458' name='page_458'></a>458</span> +which might be distinguished a sub-lieutenant and +other students of the military college, the castle having +been both academy and garrison. Their tuition +barely over, so early had they given up their lives +beneath the classic walls of their <i>alma mater</i>! The +exhilarating cheering and shouting had subsided; the +sad after-flavor succeeded the lust of conquest.</p> +<p>“Yes,” continued the gunner, though the words +came with an effort. “First, it was the desert. What +a place to roll and rove! I couldn’t help it for the +life of me! When I was a boy I ran away from +school; a lad, I ran away from college! If I had been +a sailor I would have deserted the ship. After they +captured the prophet, I deserted the desert. So, hey +for Mexico, a hilly place for a rolling stone!”</p> +<p>He gasped, held his hand to his shoulder and +brought it away covered with red. But that Saint-Prosper +knelt swiftly, sustaining and supporting him, +he would have slid to the ground. He smiled––sweetly +enough––on the stern soldier and placed his +moist and stained hand caressingly on that of his +companion. Seeing them thus, it was not difficult to +trace a family likeness––a similarity in their very +dissimilarity. The older was younger; the younger, +older. The gunner’s hair was light, his face wild as +a gerfalcon beneath; the other’s dark, with a countenance, +habitually repressed, but now, at the touch of +that dishonored hand, grown cold and harsh; yet despite +the total difference of expression, the hereditary +resemblance could not be stamped out. Even the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_459' name='page_459'></a>459</span> +smile of the wounded man was singularly like that of +his brother––a rare transformation that seldom failed +to charm.</p> +<p>“That’s my story,” he said, smiling now, as though +all the problems of life and death could be thus dismissed. +“As the prophet said: ‘I have urged my +camel through every desert!’ You see I know my +Koran well. But how came you here, Ernest? I +thought you were in Africa, colonizing––us!”</p> +<p>“It was impossible to stay there long,” replied +Saint-Prosper, slowly.</p> +<p>“There’s that cloud of smoke again,” muttered the +wounded man, apparently oblivious to the other’s response. +As he spoke he withdrew his hand from that +of his brother. At that moment the tropic sun was +bathing him in its light and the white walls shone +with luster. “No; it’s like the desert; the dark hour +before the sand-storm.” Upon his brow the perspiration +gathered, but his lip curled half-scornfully, +half-defiantly. “Turn me toward the valley, Ernest. +There’s more space; more light!”</p> +<p>The soldier, an automaton in passive compliance, +placed him where he commanded the outlook cityward; +the open plain, protected by the breast-works +of mountains; the distant spires trembling on the +horizon; the lakes which once marked the Western +Venice, a city of perfume and song. Striking a body +of water, the sun converted it into a glowing shield, +a silver escutcheon of the land of silver, and, in contrast +with this polished splendor, the shadows, trailing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_460' name='page_460'></a>460</span> +on the far-away mountains, were soft, deep and +velvety. But the freedom of the outlook afforded the +wounded man little comfort.</p> +<p>“The storm!” he said.</p> +<p>A change passed over his face, as of a shadow +drawn before it. He groped helplessly with his hand.</p> +<p>“Feel in my burnoose, Ernest. A bag––around my +neck––open it!”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper thrust his hand within the coat, shuddering +at the contact with the ebbing life’s blood, and +drew forth a leather bag which he placed in the +other’s trembling fingers. With an effort, breathing +laboriously, and staring hard, as though striving to +penetrate a gathering film, the wounded man finally +managed to display the contents of the bag, emptying +them in his palm, where they glinted and gleamed in +the sun’s rays. Sapphires, of delicate blue; emeralds +with vitreous luster; opals of brilliant iridescence––but, +above all, a ruby of perfect color and extraordinary +size, cut <i>en cabachon</i>, and exhibiting a marvelous +star of many rays; the ruby of Abd-el-Kader!</p> +<p>With a venal expression of delight, the gunner regarded +the contents of the bag, feeling the gems one +by one. “The rarest stone––from the Sagyin hills, +Ernest!” he whispered, as his trembling fingers played +with the ruby.</p> +<p>But even as he fondled it, a great pain crossed his +breast; he gripped his shoulder tight with his free +hand, clutching the precious stones hard in his +clenched fist. Thus he remained, how long the other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_461' name='page_461'></a>461</span> +never knew, panting, growing paler, as the veins that +carried life to his heart were being slowly emptied.</p> +<p>His head dropped. “How dark!” he murmured. +“Like a <i>m’chacha</i> where the hashish-smokers dream!”</p> +<p>The younger brother thought his energy was spent +when he looked up sharply.</p> +<p>“The lamp’s out, you Devil Jew!” he cried. “The +pipe, too––spawn of hell!”</p> +<p>And he dropped back like stone, the gems falling +from his hand, which twitched spasmodically on the +ground and then was still. Saint-Prosper bent over +him, but the heart, famished for nourishment, had +ceased to beat; the restless, wayward soul had fled +from its tabernacle of dust. Save for the stain on +his breast and the fixedness of his eyes, he might have +been sleeping.</p> +<p>Mechanically the soldier gathered the sapphires, +emeralds and other gems––flashing testimony of that +thankless past––and, leaning against the wall, gazed +afar to the snow-capped volcanoes. Even as he +looked, the vapors arose from the solfataras of the +“smoking mountain” and a vast shower of cinders +and stones was thrown into the air. Unnoticed +passed the eruption before the gaze of Saint-Prosper, +whose mind in a torpor swept dully back to youth’s +roseate season, recalling the homage of the younger +for the elder brother, a worship as natural as pagan +adoration of the sun. From the sanguine fore-time +to the dead present lay a bridge of darkness. With +honor within grasp, deliberately he had sought dishonor, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_462' name='page_462'></a>462</span> +little recking of shame and murder, and childishly +husbanding green, red and blue pebbles!</p> +<p>Weighing the stones in his hand now, Ernest +Saint-Prosper looked at them long and bitterly. For +these the honor and pride of an old family had been +sold. For these he himself had endured the reflected +disgrace; isolation from comradeship; distrust which +had blighted his military career at the outset. How +different had been the reality from his expectations; +the buoyant hopes of youth; the fond anticipation of +glory, succeeded by stigma and stain! And, as the +miserable, perplexing panorama of these later years +pictured itself in his brain he threw, with a sudden +gesture, the gems far from him, over the wall, out +toward the valley!</p> +<p>Like dancing beams of color, they flashed a moment +in mid air; then mingled their hues with the rainbow +tints of a falling stream. Lost to sight, they +sank in the crystal waters which leaped with a caressing +murmur toward the table-land; only the tiny spectrum, +vivid reminder of their color, still waved and +wavered from rock to rock above a pellucid pool.</p> +<p>“I beg your pardon, Colonel,” said a voice at his +elbow, breaking in upon his reflections; “are you +wounded?”</p> +<p>With drawn features, the officer turned.</p> +<p>“No; I am not wounded.”</p> +<p>“The general directs you to take this message to +the commanding general,” continued the little aide. +“I believe I may congratulate you, sir, for you will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_463' name='page_463'></a>463</span> +have the honor of bearing the news of the victory.” +He handed Saint-Prosper a sealed message. “It’s +been a glorious day, sir, but”––gazing carelessly +around him––“has cost many a brave life!”</p> +<p>“Yes, many a life!” answered the other, placing the +message in his breast and steadfastly regarding for +the last time the figure beneath the gun.</p> +<p>“We ought to be in the City of Mexico in a day or +two, sir,” resumed the aide. “Won’t it be jolly +though, after forced marches and all that sort of +thing! Fandangos; tambourines; cymbals! And +the pulque! What creatures of the moment we are, +sir!” he added, with sudden thoughtfulness. “’Twill +be, after all, like dancing over the graves of our dear +comrades!”</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_464' name='page_464'></a>464</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_A_FAIR_PENITENT' id='CHAPTER_VIII_A_FAIR_PENITENT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>A FAIR PENITENT</h3> +</div> +<p>The reception to General Zachary Taylor, on his return +from Mexico, and the inauguration of the carnival +combined to the observance of a dual festival day +in the Crescent City. Up the river, past the rice +fields, disturbing the ducks and pelicans, ploughed +the noisy craft bearing “Old Rough and Ready” to +the open port of the merry-making town. When near +the barracks, the welcoming cannon boomed, and the +affrighted darkies on the remote plantations shook +with dire forebodings of a Mexican invasion.</p> +<p>The boat rounded at the Place d’Armes, where, +beneath a triumphal arch, General Taylor received +the crown and chaplet of the people––popular applause––and +a salvo of eloquence from the mayor. +With flying colors and nourish of trumpets, a procession +of civic and military bodies was then formed, +the parade finally halting at the St. Charles, where +the fatted calf had been killed and the succulent ox +roasted. Sounding a retreat, the veteran commander +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_465' name='page_465'></a>465</span> +fell back upon a private parlor to recuperate +his forces in anticipation of the forthcoming banquet.</p> +<p>From this stronghold, where, however, not all of +the enemy––his friends––could be excluded, there escaped +an officer, with: “I’ll look around town a little, +General.”</p> +<p>“Look around!” said the commander at the door. +“I should think we had looked around! Well, don’t +fall foul of too many juleps.”</p> +<p>With a laughing response, the young man pushed +his way through the jostling crowd near the door, +traversed the animated corridor, and soon found himself +out on the busy street. Amid the variegated +colors and motley throng, he walked, not, however, +in King Carnival’s gay domains, but in a city of recollections. +The tavern he had just left was associated +with an unforgotten presence; the stores, the windows, +the thoroughfares themselves were fraught +with retrospective suggestion of the strollers.</p> +<p>Even now––and he came to an abrupt standstill––he +was staring at the bill-board of the theater where +she had played, the familiar entrance bedecked with +bunting and festival inscriptions. Before its classic +portals appeared the black-letter announcement of an +act by “Impecunious Jordan, Ethiopian artist, followed +by a Tableau of General Scott’s Capture of the +City of Mexico.” Mechanically he stepped within +and approached the box office. From the little cupboard, +a strange face looked forth; even the ticket +vender of old had been swallowed up by the irony of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_466' name='page_466'></a>466</span> +fate, and, instead of the well-remembered blond +mustache of the erstwhile seller of seats, a dark-bearded +man, with sallow complexion, inquired:</p> +<p>“How many?”</p> +<p>“One,” said Saint-Prosper, depositing a Mexican +piece on the counter before the cubby-hole.</p> +<p>“We’ve taken in plenty of this kind of money to-day,” +remarked the man, holding up the coin. “I +reckon you come to town with old Zach?”</p> +<p>“Yes.” The soldier was about to turn away, when +he changed his mind and observed: “You used to +give legitimate drama here.”</p> +<p>“That was some time ago,” said the man in the box, +reflectively. “The soldiers like vaudeville. Ever hear +Impecunious Jordan?”</p> +<p>“I never did.”</p> +<p>“Then you’ve got a treat,” continued the vender. +“He’s the best in his line. Hope you’ll enjoy it, sir,” +he concluded, with the courtesy displayed toward one +and all of “Old Rough and Ready’s” men that day. +“It’s the best seat left in the house. You come a little +late, you know.” And as the other moved away:</p> +<p>“How different they look before and after! They +went to Mexico fresh as daisies, and come back––those +that do––dead beat, done up!”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-466.jpg' alt='' title='' width='365' height='535' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_467' name='page_467'></a>467</span></div> +<p>Passing through the door, Saint-Prosper was ushered +to his seat in a renovated auditorium; new curtain, +re-decorated stalls, mirrors and gilt in profusion; +the old restfulness gone, replaced by glitter and show. +Amid changed conditions, the derangement of fixed +external form and outline, the sight of a broad face +in the orchestra and the aspect of a colossal form +riveted his attention. This person was neither stouter +nor thinner than before; he perspired neither more +nor less; he was neither older nor younger––seemingly; +he played on his instrument neither better nor +worse. Youth might fade, honors take wing, the +face of nature change, but Hans, Gargantuan Hans, +appeared but a figure in an eternal present! Gazing +at that substantial landmark, the soldier was carried +back in thought over the long period of separation +to a forest idyl; a face in the firelight; the song of +the katydid; the drumming of the woodpecker. +Dreams; vain dreams! They had assailed him before, +but seldom so sharply as now in a place consecrated +to the past.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Look out for the dandies,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Girls, beware;<br /> +Look out for their blandishments,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Dears, take care!<br /> +For they’re always ready––remember this!––<br /> +To pilfer from maids an unwilling kiss.<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>Oh, me! Oh, my! There! There!” (<i>Imaginary slaps.</i>)</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>sang and gesticulated a lady in abbreviated skirts +and low-cut dress, winking and blinking in ironical +shyness, and concluding with a flaunting of her +gown, a toe pointed ceilingward, and a lively “breakdown.” +Then she vanished with a hop, skip and a +bow, reappeared with a ravishing smile and threw a +generous assortment of kisses among the audience, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_468' name='page_468'></a>468</span> +and disappeared with another hop, skip and a bow, +as Impecunious Jordan burst upon the spectators from +the opposite side of the stage.</p> +<p>Even the sight of Hans, a finger-post pointing to +ways long since traversed, could not reconcile the +soldier to his surroundings; the humor of the burnt-cork +artist seemed inappropriate to the place; his grotesque +dancing inadmissible in that atmosphere once +consecrated to the comedy of manners and the stately +march of the classic drama. Where Hamlet had moralized, +a loutish clown now beguiled the time with +some tom-foolery, his wit so broad, his quips were +cannon-balls, and his audience, for the most part soldiers +from Mexico, open-mouthed swallowed the entire +bombardment. But Saint-Prosper, finding the +performance dull, finally rose and went out, not waiting +for the thrilling Tableaux of the Entrance into the +City of Mexico of a hundred American troops (impersonated +by young ladies in tropical attire) and the +submission of Santa Anna’s forces (more young ladies) +by sinking gracefully to their bended knees.</p> +<p>Fun and frolic were now in full swing on the thoroughfares; +Democritus, the rollicker, had commanded +his subjects to drive dull care away and they +obeyed the jovial lord of laughter. Animal spirits +ran high; mischief beguiled the time; mummery +romped and rioted. Marshaled by disorder, armed +with drollery and divers-hued banners, they marched +to the Castle of Chaos, where the wise are fools, the +old are young and topsy-turvy is the order of the day.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_469' name='page_469'></a>469</span></div> +<p>As Saint-Prosper stood watching the versicolored +concourse swarm by, a sudden rush of bystanders to +view Faith on a golden pedestal, looking more like +Coquetry, propelled a dainty figure against the soldier. +Involuntarily he put out his arm which +girded a slender waist; Faith drove simpering by; the +crowd melted like a receding wave, and the lady extricated +herself, breathless as one of the maids in +Lorenzo de Medici’s Songs of the Carnival.</p> +<p>“How awkward!” she murmured. “How––”</p> +<p>The sentence remained unfinished and an exclamation, +“Mr. Saint-Prosper!” punctuated a gleam of +recognition.</p> +<p>“Miss Duran!” he exclaimed, equally surprised, for +he had thought the strollers scattered to the four +winds.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Service, if you please!” Demurely; at the +same time extending her hand with a faint flush. +“Yes; I am really and truly married! But it is so +long since we met, I believe I––literally flew to your +arms!”</p> +<p>“That was before you recognized me,” he returned, +in the same tone.</p> +<p>Susan laughed. “But how do you happen to be +here? I thought you were dead. No; only wounded? +How fortunate! Of course you came with the others. +I should hardly know you. I declare you’re as +thin as a lath and gaunt as a ghost. You look older, +too. Remorse, I suppose, for killing so many poor +Mexicans!”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_470' name='page_470'></a>470</span></div> +<p>“And you”––surveying her face, which had the +freshness of morn––“look younger!”</p> +<p>“Of course!” Adjusting some fancied disorder of +hair or bonnet. “Marriage is a fountain of youth +for”––with a sigh––“old maids. Susan Duran, spinster! +Horrible! Do you blame me?”</p> +<p>“For getting married? Not at all. Who is the +fortunate man?” asked Saint-Prosper.</p> +<p>“A minister; an orthodox minister; a most orthodox +minister!”</p> +<p>“No?” His countenance expressed his sense of +the incongruity of the union. Susan one of the elect; +the meek and lowly yokemate of––“How did it happen?” +he said.</p> +<p>“In a perverse moment, I––went to church,” answered +Susan. “There, I met him––I mean, I saw +him––no, I mean, I heard him! It was enough. All +the women were in love with him. How could I +help it?”</p> +<p>“He must have been very persuasive.”</p> +<p>“Persuasive! He scolded us every minute. Dress +and the devil! I”––casting down her eyes––“interested +him from the first. He––he married me to reform +me.”</p> +<p>“Ah,” commented the soldier, gazing doubtfully +upon Susan’s smart gown, which, with elaborate art, +followed the contours of her figure.</p> +<p>“But, of course, one must keep up appearances, +you know,” she continued. “What’s the use of being +a minister’s wife if you aren’t popular with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_471' name='page_471'></a>471</span> +congregation? At least,” she added, “with part of +them!” And Susan tapped the pavement with a well-shod +boot and showed her white teeth. “If you +weren’t popular, you couldn’t fill the seats––I mean +pews,” she added, evasively. “But you must come +and see me––us, I should say.”</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, I am leaving to-morrow.”</p> +<p>“To-morrow!” repeated Susan, reflectively. The +pupils of her eyes contracted, something they did +whenever she was thinking deeply, and her gaze +passed quickly over his face, striving to read his +impassive features. “So soon? When the carnival +is on! That is too bad, to stay only one day, and not +call on any of your old friends! Constance, I am +sure, would be delighted to see you.”</p> +<p>Many women would have looked away under the +circumstances, but Susan’s eyes were innocently fixed +upon his. Half the pleasure of the assurance was in +the accompanying glance and the friendly smile that +went with it.</p> +<p>But a quiet question, “Miss Carew is living here?” +was all the satisfaction she received.</p> +<p>“Yes. Have you not heard? She has a lovely +home and an embarrassment of riches. Sweet embarrassment! +Health and wealth! What more could +one ask? Although I forgot, she was taken ill +shortly after you left.”</p> +<p>“Ill,” he said, starting.</p> +<p>“Quite! But soon recovered!” And Susan +launched into a narration of the events that had taken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_472' name='page_472'></a>472</span> +place while he was in Mexico, to which he listened +with the composure of a man who, having had his +share of the vagaries of fate, is not to be taken aback +by new surprises, however singular or tragic. Susan +expected an expression of regret––by look or +word––over the loss of the marquis’ fortune, but +either he simulated indifference or passed the matter +by with philosophical fortitude.</p> +<p>“Poor Barnes!” was his sole comment.</p> +<p>“Yes; it was very lonely for Constance at first,” +rattled on Susan. “But I fancy she will find a woman’s +solace for that ailment,” she added meaningly.</p> +<p>“Marriage?” he asked soberly.</p> +<p>“Well, the engagement is not yet announced,” said +Susan, hesitatingly. “But you know how things get +around? And the count has been so attentive! You +remember him surely––the Count de Propriac? But +I must be off. I have an appointment with my husband +and am already half an hour late.”</p> +<p>“Don’t let me detain you longer, then, I beg.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t mind. He’s so delightfully jealous +when I fail to appear on the stroke of the clock! Always +imagines I am in some misch––but I mustn’t +tell tales out of school! So glad to have met you! +Come and see me––do!”</p> +<p>And Susan with friendly hand-clasp and lingering +look, tore herself away, the carnival lightness in her +feet and the carnival laughter in her eyes.</p> +<p>“He is in love with her still,” she thought, “or he +wouldn’t have acted so indifferent!” Her mind reverted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_473' name='page_473'></a>473</span> +to a cold little message she had received from +Constance. “And to think he was innocent after all!” +she continued, mentally reviewing the contents of the +letter in which Constance had related the conversation +with the lawyer. “I don’t believe he’ll call on +her now, though, after––Well, why shouldn’t I +have told him what every one is talking about? Why +not, indeed?”</p> +<p>A toss of the head dismissed the matter and any +doubts pertaining thereto, while her thoughts flew +from past to present, as a fortress on a car, its occupants +armed with pellets of festival conflict, drove by +amid peals of laughter. Absorbed in this scene of +merriment, Susan forgot her haste, and kept her apostolic +half waiting at the rendezvous with the patience +of a Jacob tarrying for a Rachel. But when she did +finally appear, with hat not perfectly poised, her hair +in a pretty disarray, she looked so waywardly charming, +he forgave her on the spot, and the lamb led the +stern shepherd with a crook from Eve’s apple tree.</p> +<p>“As thin as a lath and gaunt as a ghost!” repeated +Saint-Prosper, as the fair penitent vanished in a whirl +of gaiety. “Susan always was frank.”</p> +<p>Smiling somewhat bitterly, he paused long enough +to light a cigar, but it went out in his fingers as he +strolled mechanically toward the wharves, through the +gardens of a familiar square, where the wheezing of +the distant steamers and the echoes of the cathedral +clock marked the hours of pleasure or pain to-day +as it had tolled them off yesterday. Beyond the pale +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_474' name='page_474'></a>474</span> +of the orange trees with their golden wealth, the +drays were rumbling in the streets and there were +the same signs of busy traffic––for the carnival had +not yet become a legal holiday––that he had observed +when the strollers had reached the city and made +their way to the St. Charles. He saw her anew, pale +and thoughtful, leaning on the rail of the steamer +looking toward the city, where events, undreamed of, +were to follow thick and fast. He saw her, a slender +figure, earnest, self-possessed, enter the city gates, unheralded, +unknown. He saw her as he had known +her in the wilderness––not as fancy might now depict +her, the daughter of a marquis––a strolling +player, and as such he loved best to think of her.</p> +<p>Arising out of his physical weakness and the period +of inaction following the treaty of peace, he experienced +a sudden homesickness for his native land; a +desire to re-visit familiar scenes, to breathe the sweet +air of the country, where his boyhood had been passed, +to listen to the thunder of the boulevards, to watch +the endless, sad-joyful processions.</p> +<p>Not far distant from the blossoming, redolent +square was the office of the Trans-Atlantic Steamship +Company, where a clerk, with a spray of jessamine +in his coat, bent cordially toward Saint-Prosper +as the latter entered, and, approaching the desk, inquired:</p> +<p>“The Dauphin is advertised to sail to-morrow for +France?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir; at twelve o’clock noon.”</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_475' name='page_475'></a>475</span></div> +<p>“Book me for a berth. Ernest Saint-Prosper,” he +added, in answer to the other’s questioning look.</p> +<p>“Very good, sir. Would you like some labels for +your baggage? Where shall we send for it? The +St. Charles? Very well, sir. Are you going to the +tableaux to-night?” he continued, with hospitable interest +in one whom he rightly conceived a stranger +in the city. “They say it will be the fashionable +event. Good-day.” As the prospective passenger +paid for and received his ticket. “A pleasant voyage! +The Dauphin is a new ship and should cross in three +weeks––barring bad weather! Don’t forget the tableaux. +Everybody will be there.”</p> +<p>The soldier did not reply; his heart had given a +sudden throb at the clerk’s last words. Automatically +he placed his ticket in his pocket, and randomly +answered the employee’s further inquiries for instructions. +He was not thinking of the Dauphin or her +new engines, the forerunner of the modern quadruple-expansion +arrangement, but through his brain rang +the assurance: “Everybody will be there.” And all +the way up the street, it repeated itself again and +again.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_476' name='page_476'></a>476</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_COMUS_MISTICK_WITCHERIES' id='CHAPTER_IX_COMUS_MISTICK_WITCHERIES'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>“COMUS’ MISTICK WITCHERIES”</h3> +</div> +<p>That elusive, nocturnal company, “The Mistick +Krewe of Comus,” had appeared––“Comus, deep +skilled in all his mother’s witcheries”––and the dwellers +in Phantasmagoria were joyfully numerous. +More plentiful than at a modern spectacular performance, +reveled gods, demons and fairies, while the children +resembled a flight of masquerading butterflies. +The ball at the theater, the Roman Veglioni, succeeded +elaborate tableaux, the “Tartarus,” of the ancients, +and “Paradise Lost,” of Milton, in which the +“Krewe” impersonated Pluto and Proserpine, the +fates, harpies and other characters of the representation. +In gallery, dress-circle and parquet, the theater +was crowded, the spectacle, one of dazzling toilets, +many of them from the ateliers of the Parisian modistes; +a wonderful evolution of Proserpine’s toga and +the mortal robes of the immortal Fates. Picture followed +picture: The expulsion from Paradise; the +conference of the Gorgons, and the court of pandemonium, +where gluttony, drunkenness, avarice and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_477' name='page_477'></a>477</span> +vanity were skilfully set forth in uncompromising +colors.</p> +<p>Availing themselves of the open-house of the unknown +“Krewe,” a composite host that vanished on the +stroke of twelve, many of “Old Rough and Ready’s” +retinue mingled with the gathering, their uniforms, +well-worn, even shabby, unlike the spick and span +regimentals from the <i>costumier</i>. With bronzed faces +and the indubitable air of campaigns endured, they +were the objects of lively interest to the fair maskers, +nor were themselves indifferent to the complaisance +of their entertainers. Hands, burned by the sun, +looked blacker that night, against the white gowns of +waists they clasped; bearded faces more grim visaged +in contrast with delicate complexions; embroidery and +brocade whirled around with faded uniforms; and +dancing aigrettes waved above frayed epaulets and +shoulder straps.</p> +<p>“Loog at ’im!” murmured a <i>fille à la cassette</i>, regarding +one of these officers who, however, held aloof +from the festivities; a well-built young man, but thin +and worn, as though he, like his uniform, had seen +service. “If he would only carry my trunk!” she +laughed, relapsing into French and alluding to the +small chest she bore under her arm.</p> +<p>“Or my little white lamb!” gaily added her companion, +a shepherdess.</p> +<p>And they tripped by with sidelong looks and obvious +challenge which the quarry of these sprightly +huntresses of men either chose to disregard or was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_478' name='page_478'></a>478</span> +unconscious of, as he deliberately surveyed his surroundings +with more curiosity than pleasure and absently +listened to a mountebank from “The Belle’s +Strategem.”</p> +<p>“Who’ll buy my nostrums?” cried the buffoon.</p> +<p>“What are they?” asked Folly, cantering near on a +hobby horse.</p> +<p>“Different kinds for different people. Here’s a +powder for ladies––to dispel the rage for intrigue. +Here’s a pill for politicians––to settle bad consciences. +Here’s an eye-water for jealous husbands––it thickens +the visual membrane. Here’s something for the +clergy––it eliminates windy discourses. Here’s an +infusion for creditors––it creates resignation and +teaches patience.”</p> +<p>“And what have you for lovers?”</p> +<p>“Nothing,” answered the clown; “love like fever +and ague must run its course. Nostrums! Who’ll +buy my nostrums?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m so glad I came!” enthusiastically exclaimed +a tall, supple girl, laden with a mass of flowers.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it too bad, though, you can’t polka with some +of the military gentlemen?” returned her companion +who wore a toga and carried a lantern. “Mademoiselle +Castiglione wouldn’t let you come, until I promised +not to allow you out of my sight.”</p> +<p>“It was lovely of you to take me,” she said, “and I +don’t mind about the military gentlemen.”</p> +<p>“My dear, if all women were like you, we poor +civilians would not be relegated to the background! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_479' name='page_479'></a>479</span> +I wish, though, I had worn some other costume. +This––ahem, dress!––has a tendency to get between +my legs and disconcert my philosophical dignity. I +can understand why Diogenes didn’t care about walking +abroad. My only wonder is that everybody +didn’t stay in his tub in those days. Don’t talk to +me about the ‘noble Roman!’ Why, he wore skirts!”</p> +<p>“And Monsieur Intaglio lectured to us for an hour +to-day about the wonderful drapery of the ancients!” +laughed the girl. “The poetry of dress, he called it!”</p> +<p>“Then I prefer prose. Hello!”––pausing and raising +his lantern, as they drew near the officer who had +fallen under the observation of the <i>fille à la cassette</i>. +“Colonel Saint-Prosper, or set me down for an ass––or +Plato, which is the same thing!”</p> +<p>“Straws!” said the soldier, as the bard frankly +lifted his mask and tilted it back over his forehead.</p> +<p>“Glad to see you!” continued the poet, extending +his hand. “I haven’t run across you before since the +night of the banquet; the début of Barnes’ company +you remember? You must have left town shortly +afterward. Returned this morning, of course! By +the way, there’s one of your old friends here to-night.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper felt the color mount to his face, and +even Straws noted the change. “Who is that?” +asked the soldier, awkwardly.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Service––Miss Duran that was––now one of +our most dashing––I should say, charitable, ladies. +Plenty of men at Service’s church now. She’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_480' name='page_480'></a>480</span> +dressed in Watteau-fashion to-night, so if you see +any one skipping around, looking as though she had +just stepped from the Embarkation for the Island of +Venus, set her down for the minister’s pretty wife!”</p> +<p>“And the minister?” asked Saint-Prosper, mechanically.</p> +<p>“He brought her; he compromised on a Roundhead +costume, himself! But we must be off. <i>Au revoir</i>; +don’t be backward; the ladies are all military-mad. +It may be a field of arms”––casting his glance +over the assemblage of fashionably dressed ladies, +with a quizzical smile––“but not hostile arms! Come, +Celestina––Nydia, I mean!”</p> +<p>And Straws’ arm stole about the waist of his companion, +as Saint-Prosper watched them disappearing +in the throng of dancers. It was Celestina’s first +ball, and after her long training at the Castiglione +institute, she danced divinely. Evidently, too, she +was reconciled to the warden’s edict, denying her the +freedom of the ball-room, for she showed no disposition +to escape from Straws’ watchful care. On the +contrary, though her glance wandered to the wonders +around her, they quickly returned to the philosopher +with the lamp, as though she courted the restraint to +which she was subjected. Something like a pang +shot through the soldier’s breast as he followed the +pair with his gaze; he seemed looking backward into +a world of youth and pleasure, passed beyond recall.</p> +<p>“It is useless to deny it! I knew you when I first +saw you!” exclaimed a familiar voice near by, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_481' name='page_481'></a>481</span> +turning around sharply, the officer observed approaching +a masked lady, graceful of figure and lacking nothing +in the numerical strength of her escort. It was to +her that these words were addressed by an agile man +of medium stature who had apparently penetrated her +disguise. The lady, who would have attracted attention +anywhere by her bearing, wore a pardessus +of white gauze, fitting close and bordered with a silver +band; the sleeves, short; the skirt of white gauze +and very ample, as the fashion of the day required; +the feet shod in small white silk “<i>bottines</i>”; the hair +in bands, ornamented with wild poppies. Altogether +this costume was described by Phazma as “ravishing, +the gown adorning the lady, and the lady the gown, +her graces set forth against the sheen of voluminous +satin folds, like those of some portrait by Sir Joshua +or Gainsborough.”</p> +<p>“How could you expect any one not to know you?” +continued the speaker, as this little coterie drew near, +their masks a pretext for mystery. “You may impersonate, +but you can not deceive.”</p> +<p>“That is a poor compliment, since you take me for +an actress,” laughed the lady. An hilarious outburst +from an ill-assorted cluster of maskers behind them +drowned his reply, and the lady and her attendants +passed on.</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper drew his breath sharply. “She is +here, after all,” he said to himself.</p> +<p>“A nostrum for jilted beaux!” called out a mountebank, +seeing him standing there, preoccupied, alone, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_482' name='page_482'></a>482</span> +at the same time tendering a pill as large as a plum. +A punchinello jarred against him with: “Pardonnez<i> +moi, pardie!</i>” On the perfumed air the music swelled +rapturously; a waltz, warm with the national life of +Vienna; the swan song of Lanner! Softly, sweetly, +breathed “Die Schönbrunner;” faster whirled the moving +forms. Eyes flashed more brightly; little feet +seemed born for dancing; cheeks, pale at midday, were +flushed with excitement! Why doesn’t he dance, wondered +the lady with the white lamb. Carnival comes +but once a year; a mad, merry time; when gaiety +should sweep all cares out of doors!</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Said Strephon to Chloe: ‘For a kiss,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I’ll give thee the choice of my flock.’<br /> +Said Chloe to Strephon: ‘What bliss,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>If you’ll add to the gift a new smock,’”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>hummed the lively nymph, as she tripped by.</p> +<table summary=''><tr><td> +<p class='cg'>“Said Chloe to Strephon: ‘For a kiss,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>I’ll return thee the choice of your flock.<br /> +Said Strephon to Chloe: ‘What bliss,<br /> +<span class='indent2'> </span>With it I’ll buy Phyllis a new frock,’”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p>she concluded, throwing a glance over her shoulder.</p> +<p>A sudden distaste for the festal ferment, the laughter +and merriment; a desire to escape from the very +exuberance of high spirits and cheer led the soldier +to make his way slowly from the ball-room to the balcony, +where, although not removed from the echoes +of liveliness within, he looked out upon the quietude +of the night. Overhead stretched the sky, a measureless +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_483' name='page_483'></a>483</span> +ocean, with here and there a silvery star like the +light on a distant ship; an unfathomable sea of ether +that beat down upon him. Radiant and serene, in the +boundless calm of the heavens, the splendent lanterns +seemed suspended on stationary craft peacefully +rocked at anchor. Longings, suppressed through +months of absence, once more found full sway; Susan’s +words were recalled by the presence of the count.</p> +<p>Suddenly the song of “Die Schönbrunner” ceased +within, and, as its pulsations became hushed, many of +the dancers, an elate, buoyant throng, sought the balcony. +Standing in the shadow near the entrance, +aroused from a train of reflections by this abrupt exodus, +the soldier saw among the other merry-makers, +Constance and the count, who passed through the door, +so near he could almost have touched her.</p> +<p>“Here she is,” said the count, as they approached +an elderly lady, seated near the edge of the balcony. +“Ah, Madam,” he continued to the latter, “if you +would only use your good offices in my behalf! Miss +Carew is cruelty itself.”</p> +<p>“Why, what has she done?” asked the good gentlewoman.</p> +<p>“Insisted upon deserting the ball-room!”</p> +<p>“In my day,” said the elderly ally of the nobleman, +“you could not drag the young ladies from cotillion +or minuet. And the men would stay till the dawn to +toast them!”</p> +<p>“And I’ve no doubt, Madam, your name was often +on their lips,” returned the count gallantly, who evidently +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_484' name='page_484'></a>484</span> +believed in the Spanish proverb: “Woo the +duenna, not the maid; then in love the game’s well +played!”</p> +<p>The ally in his cause made some laughing response +which the soldier did not hear. Himself unseen, +Saint-Prosper bent his eyes upon the figure of the +young girl, shadowy but obvious in the reflected light +of the bright constellations. Even as he gazed, her +hand removed the mask, revealing the face he knew +so well. In the silence below, the fountain tinkled +ever so loudly, as she stood, half-turned toward the +garden, a silken head-covering around her shoulders; +the head outlined without adornment, save the +poppies in her hair.</p> +<p>Her presence recalled scenes of other days: the +drive from the races, when her eyes had beamed so +softly beneath the starry luster. Did she remember? +He dared not hope so; he did not. To him, it +brought, also, harsher memories; yet his mind was +filled most with her beauty, which appeared to gloss +over all else and hold him, a not impassive spectator, +to the place where she was standing. She seemed +again Juliet––the Juliet of inns and school-house +stages––the Juliet he had known before she had come +to New Orleans, whose genius had transformed the +barren stage into a garden of her own creation.</p> +<p>And yet something made her different; an indefinable +new quality appeared to rest upon her. He +felt his heart beating faster; he was glad he had come; +for the moment he forgot his jealousy in watching +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_485' name='page_485'></a>485</span> +her, as with new wealth of perfume, the languid +breeze stirred the tresses above her pallid, immovable +features. But the expression of confidence with +which the count was regarding her, although ostensibly +devoting himself to her companion, renewed his +inquietude.</p> +<p>Had she allowed herself to be drawn into a promised +alliance with that titled roué? Involuntarily +the soldier’s face grew hard and stern; the count’s +tactics were so apparent––flattering attention to the +elderly gentlewoman and a devoted, but reserved, +bearing toward the young girl in which he would +rely upon patience and perseverance for the consummation +of his wishes. But certainly Constance did +not exhibit marked preference for his society; on the +contrary, she had hardly spoken to him since they +had left the ball-room. Now clasping the iron railing +of the balcony, she leaned farther out; the flowers of +the vine, clambering up one of the supports, swayed +gently around her, and she started at the moist caress +on her bare arm.</p> +<p>“It is cold here,” she said, drawing back.</p> +<p>“Allow me––your wrap!” exclaimed the count, +springing to her side with great solicitude.</p> +<p>But she adjusted the garment without his assistance.</p> +<p>“You must be careful of your health––for the sake +of your friends!” Accompanying the words with a +significant glance.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_486' name='page_486'></a>486</span></div> +<p>“The count is right!” interposed the elderly gentlewoman. +“As he usually is!” she added, laughing.</p> +<p>“Oh, Madam!” he said, bowing. “Miss Carew +does not agree with you, I am sure?” Turning to +the girl.</p> +<p>“I haven’t given the matter any thought,” she replied, +coldly. She shivered slightly, nervously, and +looked around.</p> +<p>At that moment the lights were turned on in the +garden––another surprise arranged by the Mistick +Krewe!––illuminating trees and shrubbery, and casting +a sudden glare upon the balcony.</p> +<p>“Bravo!” said the count. “It’s like a <i>fête-champêtre</i>! +And hear the mandolins! Tra-la-la-la-la! +Why, what is it?”</p> +<p>She had given a sudden cry and stood staring +toward the right at the back of the balcony. Within, +the orchestra once more began to play, and, as the +strains of music were wafted to them, a host of +masqueraders started toward the ball-room. When +the inflow of merry-makers had ceased, bewildered, +trembling, she looked with blanched face toward the +spot where the soldier had been standing, but he was +gone.</p> +<p>At that moment the cathedral clock began to strike––twelve +times it sounded, and, at the last stroke, the +Mistick Krewe, one by one began to disappear, vanishing +as mysteriously as they had come. Pluto, +Proserpine, the Fates, fairies and harpies; Satan, +Beelzebub; the dwellers in pandemonium; the aids to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_487' name='page_487'></a>487</span> +appetite––all took their quick departure, leaving the +musicians and the guests of the evening, including +the visiting military, to their own pleasures and devices. +The first carnival had come to a close.</p> +<hr class='toprule' /> +<div class='chsp'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_488' name='page_488'></a>488</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_CONSTANCE_AND_THE_SOLDIER' id='CHAPTER_X_CONSTANCE_AND_THE_SOLDIER'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER</h3> +</div> +<p>“Are you the clerk?” A well-modulated voice; a +silvery crown of hair leaning over the counter of the +St. Charles; blue eyes, lighted with unobtrusive inquiry.</p> +<p>The small, quiet-looking man addressed glanced +up. “No,” he said; “I am the proprietor. This”––waving +his hand to a resplendent-appearing person––“is +the clerk.”</p> +<p>Whereupon the be-diamonded individual indicated +(about whom an entire chapter has been written by +an observing English traveler!) came forward leisurely; +a Brummell in attire; an Aristarchus for taste! +Since his period––or reign––there have been many +imitators; but he was the first; indeed, created the +office, and is deserving of a permanent place in American +annals. “His formality just bordered on stiffness,” +wrote the interested Briton, as though he were +studying some new example of the human species; +“his conversation was elegant, but pointed, as he was +gifted with a cultured economy of language. He accomplished +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_489' name='page_489'></a>489</span> +by inflection what many people can only +attain through volubility.”</p> +<p>“Yes?” he interrogatively remarked, gazing down +at the caller in the present instance.</p> +<p>“Is Colonel Saint-Prosper stopping here?”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“Send this card to his room.”</p> +<p>“Yes?” Doubtfully.</p> +<p>“Is there any reason why you shouldn’t?”</p> +<p>“There was a military banquet last night,” interposed +the quiet, little man. “Patriotism bubbled over +until morning.”</p> +<p>“Ah, yes,” commented Culver––for it was he––“fought +their battles over again! Some of them +in the hospital to-day! Well, well, they suffered +in a glorious cause, toasting the president, and the +army, and the flag, and the girls they left behind +them! I read the account of it in the papers this +morning. Grand speech of the bishop; glorious response +of ‘Old Rough and Ready’! You are right to +protect sleeping heroes, but I’m afraid I must run the +guard, as my business is urgent.”</p> +<p>A few moments later the lawyer, breathing heavily, +followed a colored lad down a crimson-carpeted corridor, +pausing before a door upon which his guide +knocked vigorously and then vanished.</p> +<p>“Colonel Saint-Prosper?” said the lawyer, as he +obeyed the voice within and entered the room, where +a tall young man in civilian attire was engaged in +packing a small trunk. “One moment, pray––let me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_490' name='page_490'></a>490</span> +catch my breath. That lad accomplished the ascent +two steps at a time, and, I fear, the spectacle stimulated +me to unusual expedition. We’re apt to forget +we are old and can’t keep up with boys and monkeys!”</p> +<p>During this somewhat playful introduction the attorney +was studying the occupant of the room with +keen, bright gaze; a glance which, without being offensive, +was sufficiently penetrating and comprehensive +to convey a definite impression of the other’s face +and figure. The soldier returned his visitor’s look +deliberately, but with no surprise.</p> +<p>“Won’t you sit down?” he said.</p> +<p>Culver availed himself of the invitation. “I am not +disturbing you? I have long known of you, although +this is our first meeting.”</p> +<p>“You have then the advantage of me,” returned +Saint-Prosper, “for I––”</p> +<p>“You never heard of me?” laughed the lawyer. +“Exactly! We attorneys are always getting our fingers +in every one’s affairs! I am acquainted with +you, as it were, from the cradle to the––present!”</p> +<p>“I am unexpectedly honored!” remarked the listener, +satirically.</p> +<p>“First, I knew you through the Marquis de Ligne.”</p> +<p>Saint-Prosper started and regarded his visitor more +closely.</p> +<p>“I was the humble instrument of making a fortune +for you; it was also my lot to draw up the papers depriving +you of the same!” Culver laughed amiably. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_491' name='page_491'></a>491</span> +“‘Oft expectation fails, where most it promises.’ +Pardon my levity! There were two wills; the first, +in your favor; the last, in his daughter’s. I presume”––with +a sudden, sharp look––“you have no intention +of contesting the final disposition? The paternity +of the child is established beyond doubt.”</p> +<p>Artful Culver was not by any means so sure in +his own mind that, if the other were disposed to make +trouble, the legal proofs of Constance’s identity would +be so easily forthcoming. Barnes was dead; her +mother had passed away many years before; the +child had been born in London––where?––the marquis’ +rationality, just before his demise, was a debatable +question. In fact, since he had learned Saint-Prosper +was in the city, the attorney’s mind had been +soaring among a cloud of vague possibilities, and +now, regarding his companion with a most kindly, +ingratiating smile, he added:</p> +<p>“Besides, when the marquis took you as a child +into his household, there were, I understood, no legal +papers drawn!”</p> +<p>“I don’t see what your visit portends,” said Saint-Prosper, +“unless there is some other matter?”</p> +<p>“Just so,” returned Culver, his doubts vanishing. +“There was a small matter––a slight commission. +Miss Carew requested me to hand you this message.” +The visitor now detected a marked change in the +soldier’s imperturbable bearing, as the latter took the +envelope which the attorney offered him. “The young +lady saw you at the Mistick Krewe ball last night, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_492' name='page_492'></a>492</span> +and, recognizing an old friend,”––with a slight accent––“pressed +me into her service. And now, having +completed my errand, I will wish you good-morning!” +And the lawyer briskly departed.</p> +<p>The young man’s hand trembled as he tore open the +envelope, but he surveyed the contents of the brief +message with tolerable firmness.</p> +<blockquote> +<p>“<span class='smcap'>Colonel Saint-Prosper</span>: Will you kindly call this morning +to see me?</p> +<p class='ralign'><span class='smcap'>Constance Carew.</span>”</p> +</blockquote> +<p>That was all; nothing more, save the address and +the date! How long he remained staring at it with +mingled feelings he never knew, but finally with a +start, looked at his watch, thoughtfully regarded the +half-filled trunk, donned his coat and left the room. +Several fellow-officers, the first of the sluggards to +appear, spoke to him as he crossed the hall below, +but what they said or what he replied he could not +afterward remember. Some one detained him at the +steps, a gentleman with a longing for juleps, but +finally he found himself in a carriage, driving somewhere, +presumably to the address given in the letter. +How long the drive seemed, and yet when the carriage +finally stopped and he had paid his fare, he +mentally determined it had been too short! The +driver gazed in surprise after the gentleman, who +did not wait for his change, but, forbearing injudicious +comment, gathered up the reins and drove to the +nearest <i>café</i>.</p> +<p>From the carriage the house was some distance, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_493' name='page_493'></a>493</span> +yet it appeared very near the gate to the soldier, who +dimly realized he was passing through a garden where +were many flowering plants and where the air was +unusually heavy with perfume. Many other details, +the construction of the house, the size of the verandas, +passed without attracting his notice. Soon, however, +he was seated in a great room, an apartment of old-fashioned +height and breadth. He felt his heart +beating fast. How long did he sit there? No inconsiderable +period, surely. He examined everything +carefully, without carrying a definite impression +of anything to his mind. The large, carved +mirror; the quaint decoration of walls and frieze; the +soft colors of the rug that covered the floor; the hundred +and one odd little things in the cabinet near +the chair where he was seated, trifles in ivory, old +silver and china; the pictures, a Van Dyke, Claude, +and a few modern masters. After this interminable, +but confused scrutiny of inanimate things, his heart +beat faster still, as a tall figure, robed in white, entered +the room!</p> +<p>He rose; they regarded each other with mutual +constraint; her face had a bit of color, like the tinge +of a rose-leaf; her eyes seemed agitated beneath the +sweeping lashes, a sentiment in ill accord with the +stateliness of her presence. She gave him her hand; +he held it he knew not how long; probably, for the conventional +moment. They found themselves, each in a +chair; at ease, yet not at ease; he studying her face, +furtively, yet eagerly; she turning in her fancy the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_494' name='page_494'></a>494</span> +first strong impression of how gaunt and haggard +were his features, bearing the traces of recent illness!</p> +<p>“I am glad you came,” she began, their eyes meeting +once more.</p> +<p>He bowed. “Mr. Culver brought me your message.”</p> +<p>“I heard that you––it was reported you were dead.”</p> +<p>“I was wounded; that was all, and soon took to the +field again.”</p> +<p>The suspense that fell between them was oppressive.</p> +<p>“You should have let your friends––know,” she +said at length.</p> +<p>He looked at her curiously, vivid memories of their +last interview recurring to him. Indecisively she interlaced +her fingers, and he, watching them, wondered +why she had sent for him. Suddenly she rose, +walked to the window, and stood, looking out. He, +sitting in the dim light, in a maze of uncertainty, was +vaguely conscious of her figure outlined against the +brightness without; of the waving, yellow flowers of +the vines on the veranda.</p> +<p>“It is long since we have met,” he said, awkwardly.</p> +<p>She did not answer. Had she heard? Yet he did +not resent her silence. If he had ever felt anger for +her it had all vanished now. He was only conscious +of regarding her more attentively, as she still remained, +gazing out into the sunlit garden.</p> +<p>“Much has happened since I saw you,” he continued.</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_495' name='page_495'></a>495</span></div> +<p>She turned; her eyes were moist; her hand trembled +a little against her dress, but she held her head proudly, +as she had always done, and it was the aspect of +this weakness set against strength that appealed +swiftly to him, softening his heart so that he longed +to spring to her side.</p> +<p>“Yes, much!” she replied.</p> +<p>Was her voice tremulous, or was it but the thrill +of his own heart which made it seem so?</p> +<p>“You have been here long?” she asked, still holding +back what was on her mind or blindly endeavoring +to approach the subject.</p> +<p>“Only since yesterday.”</p> +<p>“And you remain some time?”</p> +<p>“I am leaving to-day––for France.”</p> +<p>At that a touch of color left her face, or was it +that a darkening shadow fell upon the house and +garden, momentarily chastening the outlook?</p> +<p>“For France?” she repeated.</p> +<p>Her lips quivered. Something seemed to still the +beating of his heart.</p> +<p>“Constance––what is it?” he half-whispered.</p> +<p>She stepped forward suddenly, her hands outstretched.</p> +<p>“I wronged you!” she cried. “I wronged you. +I thought the disgrace was yours. Oh, do not +speak!” she added, passionately. “I have suffered for +it––and now, would you mind––please––leaving me?”</p> +<p>“You thought the disgrace was mine!” he repeated, +slowly. “Not my”––he broke off abruptly. “And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_496' name='page_496'></a>496</span> +you suffered––for it?” he said, wonderingly. “Then +you––” He arose quickly and approached her, a new +expression transfiguring his bronzed and worn young +face.</p> +<p>Swiftly he sought her glance; her eyes gave irrefutable +answer. Unresistingly, she abandoned herself +to his arms, and he felt her bosom rise and fall +with conflicting emotions. Closely he held her, in +the surprise and surpassing pleasure of the moment; +then, bending, he kissed her lips. A wave of color +flooded her face, though her eyes still sought his. But +even as he regarded her, the clear, open look gradually +changed, replaced by one of half-perplexity, half-reproach.</p> +<p>“That night you went away––why did you not defend +yourself?” she asked, finally.</p> +<p>“I never imagined––any mistake. Besides, what +had I to offer? Your future was bright; your name, +on every one’s lips!”</p> +<p>“Did you think you were responsible for another’s +sins?”</p> +<p>His dark features clouded.</p> +<p>“I suppose I had become accustomed to cold looks. +In Africa, by some of my comrades who had an inkling +of the story! No matter what I did, I was his +brother! And the bitterest part was that I loved him; +loved him from my boyhood! He was the handsomest, +most joyous fellow! Even when he died in my arms +in Mexico my heart could not absolutely turn from +him.”</p> +<div class='figtag'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +</div> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-496.jpg' alt='' title='' width='363' height='536' /><br /> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_497' name='page_497'></a>497</span></div> +<p>She opened her lips as if to speak, but the shadow +on his face kept her silent.</p> +<p>“I was weak enough to keep the story from you in +the first place––a foolish reticence, for these matters +follow a man to the ends of the world.”</p> +<p>“Oh,” she said, “to think it was I who made you feel +this!”</p> +<p>He took her hand; his grasp hurt her fingers; yet +she did not shrink.</p> +<p>“You showed me a new world,” he answered, +quickly. “Not the world I expected to find––where +life would hold little of joy or zest––but a magical +world; a beautiful world; yours!”</p> +<p>She half-hung her head. “But then––then––”</p> +<p>“It became a memory; bitter-sweet; yet more sweet +than bitter!”</p> +<p>“And now?”</p> +<p>He did not answer immediately.</p> +<p>The figure of the count, as he had seen him the +night before, had abruptly entered his mind. Did she +understand? She smiled.</p> +<p>“And now?”</p> +<p>At her question he dismissed all thought of jealousy. +Looking into her clear, half-laughing eyes, he +read of no entangling alliances; without words from +her, he understood.</p> +<p>“Shall we go into the garden?” she said, and, opening +the window, they stepped out upon the veranda.</p> +<p>In the sky a single large cloud stretched itself in +a dreamy torpor, too sluggish, apparently to move, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_498' name='page_498'></a>498</span> +while a brood of little clouds nestled and slept around +it. From the window, the count’s ally watched them, +among the plants and vines, pausing now and then; +their interest more in themselves than in the liveliest +hues or forms that nature offered. He stood still, regarding +his shadow on the path seriously.</p> +<p>“Nearly noon by the soldier’s dial!” he said.</p> +<p>She pushed back the hair the wind had blown about +her brow.</p> +<p>“My boat sails in an hour,” he continued.</p> +<p>“But––you are not––going––now?”</p> +<p>“If I stay, it must be––”</p> +<p>“Forever!” she said. “Forever!”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>“Have you heard the news?” said Susan to the +count.</p> +<p>“Secular?” drawled the erstwhile emissary. He +was in ill-humor, having called three times on Constance, +who had been excused on all these occasions.</p> +<p>“Not necessarily,” replied she, with the old familiar +toss of the head. “Saint-Prosper has come back, and +he’s going to marry Constance!”</p> +<p>“Eh? What? I don’t be––Who told you?” demanded +the count, sharply.</p> +<p>“Well, you needn’t take my head off! She did, if +you want to know.”</p> +<p>“Miss Carew?”</p> +<p>“Herself!”</p> +<p>The nobleman lolled back in his chair, a dark look +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_499' name='page_499'></a>499</span> +on his face. Here were fine hopes gone a-glimmering!</p> +<p>“<i>Pardie!</i> the creditors will have to wait awhile,” he +thought. “And I––I have been a dunce, dancing attendance +all these days! I had hoped to marry wealth +and beauty. What did I come over here for? The +demned country’s barren of everything!”</p> +<p>“Isn’t it delightful they should meet after such a +long time?” rattled on Susan, gaily. “So romantic! +And then they were exactly suited for each other. +Dear me,”––enthusiastically––“I have taken such an +interest in them, I almost feel as if I had brought it +all about.”</p> +<p style='text-align:center;margin-top:1.5em;margin-bottom:1em'>THE END</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad01.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad02.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad03.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad04.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad05.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad06.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad07.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad08.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad09.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad10.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad11.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad12.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad13.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad14.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad15.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad16.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad17.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad18.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad19.jpg' /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div style='margin:10px auto; text-align:center;'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-ad20.jpg' /> +</div> + +<!-- generated by ppg.rb version: ppg0817 --> +<!-- timestamp: Tue Aug 18 20:29:10 -0500 2009 --> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29726-h.htm or 29726-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/2/29726/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-028.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-028.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb608c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-028.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-114.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-114.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b39a4c --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-114.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-180.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-180.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9050dff --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-180.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-304.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-304.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc3d9c6 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-304.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-340.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-340.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9242c0a --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-340.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-466.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-466.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f102d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-466.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-496.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-496.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f8f63d --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-496.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad01.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ff8ba6 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad01.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad02.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..87a3f21 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad02.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad03.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad03.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a3f70ad --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad03.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad04.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad04.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..81a9743 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad04.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad05.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad05.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..751abdd --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad05.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad06.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad06.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5bfc2c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad06.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad07.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad07.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc0bd8e --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad07.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad08.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad08.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd90feb --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad08.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad09.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad09.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4bb75b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad09.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad10.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad10.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8766f8c --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad10.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad11.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad11.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e63c7f --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad11.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad12.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad12.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..948c7d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad12.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad13.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad13.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a927251 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad13.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad14.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad14.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..46bb4ab --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad14.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad15.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad15.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..753e84a --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad15.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad16.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad16.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..785b800 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad16.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad17.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad17.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f24e0f --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad17.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad18.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad18.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7e92c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad18.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad19.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad19.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4934f66 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad19.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-ad20.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-ad20.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9763528 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-ad20.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg b/29726-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7fb888f --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-fpc.jpg diff --git a/29726-h/images/illus-tpg.png b/29726-h/images/illus-tpg.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e6fcb8a --- /dev/null +++ b/29726-h/images/illus-tpg.png diff --git a/29726.txt b/29726.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..685b1f1 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14891 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Strollers + +Author: Frederic S. Isham + +Illustrator: Harrison Fisher + +Release Date: August 19, 2009 [EBook #29726] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + + +THE STROLLERS + +By FREDERIC S. ISHAM + +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + +HARRISON FISHER + +INDIANAPOLIS + +THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY + +PUBLISHERS + + + + +Copyright 1902 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company + +March + +PRESS OF + +BRAUNWORTH & CO. + +BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS + +BROOKLYN, N. Y. + + + + +THE STROLLERS + + + + +CONTENTS + + PROLOGUE PAGE + THE MARQUIS' HONEYMOON 3 + +BOOK I + +ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS + + CHAPTER + I THE TRAVELERS' FRIEND 11 + II A NEW ARRIVAL 33 + III AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE 48 + IV "GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!" 59 + V A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN 72 + VI THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT 80 + VII SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA 87 + VIII FLIPPING THE SHILLING 99 + IX SAMPLING THE VINTAGES 111 + X SEALING THE COMPACT 122 + XI THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER 136 + XII AN ECCENTRIC JAILER 144 + XIII THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER 156 + XIV THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR 172 + XV A HASTY EXIT 178 + XVI THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP 190 + XVII THE HAND FERRY 203 + +BOOK II + +DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES + + CHAPTER + I THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS 211 + II "ONLY AN INCIDENT" 224 + III AT THE RACES 232 + IV LEAR AND JULIET 250 + V THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS 266 + VI A BLOT IN THE 'SCUTCHEON 275 + VII A CYNICAL BARD 287 + VIII THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE 308 + IX A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY 321 + X LAUGHTER AND TEARS 333 + XI THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN 342 + XII IN THE OLD CEMETERY 360 + XIII AN INCONGRUOUS ROLE 370 + +BOOK III + +THE FINAL CUE + + CHAPTER + I OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD 387 + II ONLY A SHADOW 399 + III FROM GARRET TO GARDEN 412 + IV "THE BEST OF LIFE" 420 + V THE LAWYER'S TIDINGS 428 + VI THE COUNCIL OF WAR 436 + VII A MEETING ON THE MOUNT 450 + VIII A FAIR PENITENT 464 + IX "COMUS' MISTICK WITCHERIES" 476 + X CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER 488 + + + + +PROLOGUE + + + + +THE MARQUIS' HONEYMOON + + +Old Drury Lane rang with applause for the performance of Madame Carew. +Of British-French parentage, she was a recognized peer among the +favorite actresses on the English stage and a woman whose attractions +of face and manner were of a high order. She came naturally by her +talents, being a descendant of Madame de Panilnac, famed as an +actress, confidante of Louise-Benedicte, Duchess du Maine, who +originated the celebrated _nuits blanches_ at Sceaux during the close +of Louis XIV's reign. + +The bill for the evening under consideration was "Adrienne Lecouvreur" +and in no part had the actress been more natural and effective. Her +triumph was secure, for as the prologue says: + + "Your judgment given--your sentence must remain; + No writ of error lies--to Drury Lane." + +She was the talk of the day and her praises or deficiencies were +discussed by the scandal-carriers of the town; the worn-out dowagers, +the superannuated maidens, the "tabernacle gallants," the male members +of the tea tables and all the coxcombs, sparks and beaux who haunted +the stage door. + +The player had every stimulus to appear at her best on this particular +evening, for the audience, frivolous, volatile, taking its character +from the loose, weak king, was unusually complaisant through the +presence of the first gentleman of Europe. As the last of the Georges +declared himself in good-humor, so every toady grinned and every +courtly flunkey swore in the Billingsgate of that profanely eloquent +period that the actress was a "monstrous fine woman." + +With rare discretion and spirit had the latter played, a queenly +figure in that ribald, gross gathering. She had reached the scene +where the actress turns upon her tormentors, those noble ladies of +rank and position, and launches the curse of a soul lashed beyond +endurance. Sweeping forward to confront her adversaries, about to face +them, her troubled glance chanced to fall into one of the side boxes +where were seated a certain foreign marquis, somewhat notorious, and a +lady of insolent, patrician bearing. The anticipated action was +arrested, for at sight of the nobleman and his companion, Adrienne +swayed slightly, as though moved by a new overpowering emotion. Only +for a moment she hesitated, then fixing her blazing eyes upon the two +and lifting her arm threateningly, the bitter words flowed from her +lips with an earnestness that thrilled the audience. A pallor +overspread the face of the marquis, while the lady drew back behind +the draperies, almost as if in fear. At the conclusion of that effort +the walls echoed with plaudits; the actress stood as in a trance; her +face was pale, her figure seemed changed to stone and the light went +out of her eyes. + +She fainted and fell and the curtain descended quickly. The woman by +the marquis' side, who had trembled at first, now forced a laugh, as +she said: "The trollop can curse! Let us go." Together they left the +box, the marquis regretting the temerity which had led him to bring +his companion to the theater. He, too, was secretly unnerved, and, +when they entered the carriage, they seated themselves as far apart as +possible, the marquis detesting the lady and she for her part +disliking him just as cordially. + +Next day the critics referred to the scene with glowing words, while +in the coffee houses they discussed the proposition: Should an actress +feel the emotion she portrays? With a cynical smile the marquis read +the different accounts of the performance, when he and his companion +found themselves in the old stage coach _en route_ for Brighton. He +felt no regret for his action--had not the Prince of Wales taught the +gentlemen of his kingdom that it was fashionable to desert actresses? +Had he not left the "divine Perdita" to languish, after snubbing her +right royally in Hyde Park? + +Disdainfully the lady in the coach regarded her husband and it +was evident that the ties of affection which bound these two +travelers together on life's road were neither strong nor enduring. +Yet they were traveling together; their way was the same; their +destination--but that belongs to the future. The marquis had been +relieved in his mind after a consultation with a distinguished +barrister, and, moreover, was pleased at the prospect of leaving +this island of fogs for the sunny shores of France. The times +were exciting; the country, on the verge of proposed electoral +reforms. But in France the new social system had sprung into +existence and--lamentable fact!--duty towards one's country had +assumed an empire superior to ancient devotion toward kings. + +To stem this tide and attach himself closely to King Charles X was the +marquis' ambitious purpose. For this he had espoused a party in +marrying a relative of the royal princess, thus enhancing the ties +that bound him to the throne, and throwing to the winds _his_ Perdita +whose charms had once held him in folly's chains. Did he regret the +step? Has ravening aspiration any compunction; any contrite visitings +of nature? What did the player expect; that he would violate +precedence; overthrow the fashionable maxims of good George IV; become +a slave to a tragi-comic performer and cast his high destiny to the +winds? Had ever a gentleman entertained such a project? Vows? Witness +the agreeable perjuries of lovers; the pleasing pastime of fond +hearts! Every titled rascallion lied to his mistress; every noble +blackguard professed to be a Darby for constancy and was a Jonathan +Wild by instinct. If her ideals were raised so high, the worse for +her; if a farce of a ceremony was regarded as tying an indissoluble +knot--let her take example by the lady who thought herself the king's +spouse; pish! there are ceremonies and ceremonies, and wives and +wives; those of the hedge-concealed cottage and those of palace and +chateau! + +As the coach sped over the road, the lady by his side smiled +disagreeably from time to time, and my lord, when he became aware of +it, winced beneath her glance. Had she fathomed his secret? Else why +that eminently superior air; that manner which said as plainly as +spoken words: "Now I have learned what to do if he should play the +tyrant. Now I see a way to liberty, equality, fraternity!" And beneath +the baneful gleam of that look of enlightenment, my lord cursed under +his breath roundly. The only imperturbable person of the party was +Francois, the marquis' valet, whose impassive countenance was that of +a stoic, apathetic to the foibles of his betters; a philosopher of the +wardrobe, to whom a wig awry or a loosened buckle seemed of more +moment than the derangement of the marriage tie or the disorder of +conjugal affection. + +Not long thereafter the player left for America, where she procured an +engagement in New York City, and, so far as London was concerned, she +might have found rest and retiredness in the waters of Lethe. Of her +reception in the old New York Theater; the verdict of the phalanx of +critics assembled in the Shakespeare box which, according to +tradition, held more than two hundred souls; the gossip over +confections or tea in the coffee room of the theater--it is +unnecessary to dwell upon. But had not the player become a voluntary +exile; had she not foregone her former life for the new; had she not +found that joy sometimes begets the bitterest grief, there would have +been no occasion for this chronicle. + + + + +BOOK I + +ON THE CIRCUIT IN THE WILDERNESS + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRAVELERS' FRIEND + + +It was a drizzly day in the Shadengo Valley. A mist had settled down +upon the old inn; lost to view was the landscape with its varied +foliage. Only the immediate foreground was visible to a teamster who +came down the road--the trees with dripping branches, and the inn from +the eaves of which water fell to the ground with depressing monotony; +the well with its pail for watering the horses and the log trough in +whose limpid waters a number of speckled trout were swimming. The +driver drew up his horses before the Travelers' Friend--as the place +was named--and called out imperatively: + +"Hullo there!" + +No one appearing, he leaned over and impatiently rapped on the door +with the heavy oak butt-end of his whip. Still there was no response. +Again he knocked, this time louder than before, and was preparing for +an even more vigorous assault upon the unhospitable entrance, when the +door swung back and the landlord, a tall, gaunt individual, confronted +the driver. + +"Well, I heard ye," he said testily. "Are ye coming in or shall I +bring it out?" + +"Bring it out," was the gruff response of the disgruntled teamster. + +Shortly afterwards mine host reappeared with a tankard of generous +dimensions. The teamster raised it; slowly drained it to the bottom; +dropped a coin into the landlord's hand; cracked his whip in a lively +manner and moved on. The steam from his horses mingled with the mist +and he was soon swallowed up, although the cheerful snap of his whip +could yet be heard. Then that became inaudible and the boniface who +had stood for a brief space in the doorway, empty tankard in hand, +re-entered the house satisfied that no more transient patronage would +be forthcoming at present. + +Going through an outer room, called by courtesy a parlor, the landlord +passed into an apartment which served as dining-room, sitting-room and +bar. Here the glow of a wood fire from the well swept hearth and the +aspect of the varied assortment of bottles, glasses and tankards, gave +more proof of the fitness of the appellation on the creaking sign of +the road-house than appeared from a superficial survey of its exterior +and far from neat stable yard, or from that chilly, forbidding room, +so common especially in American residences in those days, the parlor. +Any doubt regarding the contents of the hospitable looking bottles was +dispelled by such prominent inscriptions in gilt letters as "Whisky," +"Brandy" and "Rum." To add to the effect, between the decanters were +ranged glass jars of striped peppermint and winter-green candies, +while a few lemons suggested pleasing possibilities of a hot sling, +spiced rum flip or Tom and Jerry. The ceiling of this dining-room was +blackened somewhat and the huge beams overhead gave an idea of the +substantial character of the construction of the place. That fuel was +plentiful, appeared in evidence in the open fireplace where were +burning two great logs, while piled up against the wall were many +other good-sized sections of hickory. + +Seated at a respectful distance from this cheerful conflagration was a +young man of perhaps five-and-twenty, whose travel-stained attire +indicated he had but recently been on the road. Upon a chair near by +were a riding-whip and hat, the latter spotted with mud and testifying +to the rough character of the road over which he had come. He held a +short pipe to his lips and blew clouds of smoke toward the fire, while +upon a table, within arm's length, rested a glass of some hot mixture. +But in spite of his comfortable surroundings, the expression of his +face was not that of a person in harmony with the Johnsonian +conclusion, "A chair in an inn is a throne of felicity." His +countenance, well bronzed as a weather-tried trooper's, was harsh, +gloomy, almost morose; not an unhandsome face, but set in such a +severe cast the observer involuntarily wondered what experience had +indited that scroll. Tall, large of limb, muscular, as was apparent +even in a restful pose, he looked an athlete of the most approved +type, active and powerful. + +Mine host, having found his guest taciturn, had himself become genial, +and now remarked as he entered: "How do you find the punch? Is it to +your liking?" + +"Yes," shortly answered the stranger, without raising his eyes from a +moody regard of the fire. + +"You're from France, I guess?" continued the landlord, as he seated +himself on the opposite side of the fireplace. "Been here long? Where +you going?" Without waiting for an answer to his first question he +exercised his time-honored privilege of demanding any and all +information from wayfarers at the Travelers' Friend. + +"I say, where you going?" he repeated, turning over a log and sending +a shower of sparks up the flue. + +With no change of countenance the guest silently reached for his +punch, swallowed a portion of it, replaced the glass on the table and +resumed his smoking as though oblivious of the other's presence. +Momentarily disconcerted, the landlord devoted himself once more to +the fire. After readjusting a trunk of old hickory on the great +andirons and gazing absently for a moment at the huge crane supporting +an iron kettle of boiling water, mine host tipped back in his chair, +braced his feet against the wall, lighted a vile-smelling pipe and +again returned valiantly to the attack, resolved to learn more about +his guest. + +"I hear things are kind of onsettled in France?" he observed +diplomatically, emitting a cloud of smoke. "I see in a Syracuse paper +that Louis Philippe is no longer king; that he and the queen have fled +to England. Perhaps, now,"--inwardly congratulating himself on his +shrewdness--"you left Paris for political reasons?" + +The stranger deliberately emptied his pipe and thrust it into his +pocket, while the landlord impatiently awaited the response to his +pointed query. When it came, however, it was not calculated to allay +the curiosity of his questioner. + +"Is it your practice," said the young man coldly, in slow but +excellent English, "to bark continuously at the heels of your +guests?" + +"Oh, no offense meant! No offense! Hope none'll be taken," stammered +the landlord. + +Then he recovered himself and his dignity by drawing forth a huge +wine-colored silk handkerchief, set with white polka-dots, and +ostentatiously and vigorously using it. This ear-splitting operation +having once more set him up in his own esteem, he resumed his +attentions to the stranger. + +"I didn't know," he added with an outburst of honesty, "but what you +might be some nobleman in disguise." + +"A nobleman!" said the other with ill-concealed contempt. "My name is +Saint-Prosper; plain Ernest Saint-Prosper. I was a soldier. Now I'm an +adventurer. There you have it all in a nut-shell." + +The inn-keeper surveyed his guest's figure with undisguised +admiration. + +"Well, you look like a soldier," he remarked. "You are like one +of those soldiers who came over from France to help us in the +Revolution." + +This tribute being silently accepted, the landlord grew voluble as his +guest continued reserved. + +"We have our own troubles with lords, too, right here in New York +State," he said confidentially. "We have our land barons, descendants +of the patroons and holders of thousands of acres. And we have our +bolters, too, who are making a big stand against feudalism." + +Thereupon he proceeded to present the subject in all its details to +the soldier; how the tenants were protesting against the enforcement +of what they now deemed unjust claims and were demanding the abolition +of permanent leaseholds; how they openly resisted the collection of +rents and had inaugurated an aggressive anti-rent war against +tyrannical landlordism. His lengthy and rambling dissertation was +finally broken in upon by a rumbling on the road, as of carriage +wheels drawing near, and the sound of voices. The noise sent the +boniface to the window, and, looking out, he discovered a lumbering +coach, drawn by two heavy horses, which came dashing up with a great +semblance of animation for a vehicle of its weight, followed by a +wagon, loaded with diversified and gaudy paraphernalia. + +"Some troopers, I guess," commented the landlord in a tone which +indicated the coming of these guests was not entirely welcome to him. +"Yes," he added, discontentedly, "they're stage-folk, sure enough." + +The wagon, which contained several persons, was driven into the stable +yard, where it was unloaded of "drops" and "wings," representing a +street, a forest, a prison, and so on, while the stage coach, with a +rattle and a jerk, and a final flourish of the driver's whip, stopped +at the front door. Springing to the ground, the driver opened the door +of the vehicle, and at the same time two other men, with their heads +muffled against the wind and rain, leisurely descended from the top. +The landlord now stood at the entrance of the inn, a sour expression +on his face. Certainly, if the travelers had expected in him the +traditional glowing countenance, with the apostolic injunction to "use +hospitality without grudging" writ upon it, they were doomed to +disappointment. + +A rustle of skirts, and there emerged from the interior of the coach, +first, a little, dried-up old lady whose feet were enclosed in +prunella boots, with Indian embroidered moccasins for outside +protection; second, a young woman who hastily made her way into the +hostelry, displaying a trim pair of ankles; third, a lady resembling +the second and who the landlord afterwards learned was her sister; +fourth, a graceful girl above medium height, wearing one of those +provoking, quilted silk hoods of the day, with cherry-colored lining, +known as "Kiss-me-if-you-dare" hoods. + +Then followed a dark melancholy individual, the utility man, whose +waistcoat of figured worsted was much frayed and whose "tooth-pick" +collar was the worse for the journey. He preceded a more natty person +in a bottle-green, "shad-belly" coat, who strove to carry himself as +though he were fashionably dressed, instead of wearing clothes which +no longer could conceal their shabbiness. The driver, called in +theatrical parlance "the old man," was a portly personage in a blue +coat with velvet collar and gilt buttons, a few of which were missing; +while the ruffles of his shirt were in sad plight, for instead of +protruding elegantly a good three or even four inches, their glory had +gone and they lay ignominiously flattened upon the bosom of the +wearer. A white choker rivaled in hue the tooth-pick collar of the +melancholy individual. + +The tavern's stable boy immediately began to remove the trunks into +the main hallway. This overgrown, husky lad evidently did not share +his employer's disapproval of the guests, for he gazed in open-eyed +wonder at the sisters, and then, with increasing awe, his glance +strayed to the young girl. To his juvenile imagination an actress +appeared in the glamour of a veritable goddess. But she had obviously +that tender consideration for others which belongs to humanity, for +she turned to the old man with an affectionate smile, removing from +his shoulders the wet Petersham overcoat, and, placing it on a chair, +regarded him with a look of filial anxiety. Yet their appearance +belied the assumption of such relationship; he was hearty, florid and +sturdy, of English type, while she seemed a daughter of the South, a +figure more fitting for groves of orange and cypress, than for this +rugged northern wilderness. + +The emotion of the stable boy as he gazed at her, and the forbidding +mood of the landlord were broken in upon by the tiny old lady, who, in +a large voice, remarked: + +"A haven at last! Are you the landlord?" + +"Yes, ma'am," testily replied that person. + +"I am pleased to meet you, sir," exclaimed the melancholy individual, +as he extended a hand so cold and clammy that shivers ran up and down +the back of the host when he took it gingerly. "We are having fine +tragedy weather, sir!" + +"A fire at once, landlord!" commanded the would-be beau. + +"Refreshments will be in order!" exclaimed she of the trim ankles. + +"And show me the best room in the house," remarked her sister. + +Mine host, bewildered by this shower of requests, stared from one to +the other in helpless confusion, but finally collected his wits +sufficiently to usher the company into the tap-room with: + +"Here you'll find a fire, but as for the best room, this +gentleman"--indicating the reticent guest--"already occupies it." + +The young man at the fire, thus forced prominently into notice, arose +slowly. + +"You are mistaken, landlord," he said curtly, hardly glancing at the +players. "I no longer occupy it since these ladies have come." + +"Your complaisance does credit to your good nature, sir," exclaimed +the old man. "But we can not take advantage of it." + +"It is too good of you," remarked the elder sister with a glance +replete with more gratitude than the occasion demanded. "Really, +though, we could not think of it." + +"Thank you; thank you," joined in the wiry old lady, bobbing up and +down like a miniature figure moved by the unseen hand of the showman. +"Allow me, sir!" And she gravely tendered him a huge snuff-box of +tortoise shell, which he declined; whereupon she continued: + +"You do not use it? New fashions; new habits! Though whether for the +better is not for me to say." + +She helped herself to a liberal portion and passed the box to the +portly old gentleman. Here the landlord, in a surly tone, told the +stable boy to remove the gentleman's things and show the ladies to +their rooms. Before going, the girl in the provoking hood--now +unfastened, and freeing sundry rebellious brown curls where the +moisture yet sparkled like dew--turned to the old man: + +"You are coming up directly? Your stock wants changing, while your +ruffles"--laughing--"are disgraceful!" + +"Presently, my dear; presently!" he returned. + +The members of the company mounted the broad stairway, save the driver +of the coach--he of the disordered ruffles--who wiped his heavy boots +on a door mat and made his way to the fire, where he stood in English +fashion with his coat-tails under his arms, rubbing his hands and +drying himself before the flames. + +"A disagreeable time of year, sir," he observed to the soldier, who +had returned to his seat before the table. "Twice on the road we +nearly broke down, and once the wagon dumped our properties in the +ditch. Meanwhile, to make matters worse, the ladies heaped reproaches +upon these gray hairs. This, sir, to the man who was considered one of +the best whips in old Devonshire county." + +The other did not answer immediately, but regarded the speaker with +the look of one not readily disposed to make acquaintances. His +conclusions were apparently satisfactory, however, for he presently +vouchsafed the remark: + +"You are the manager, I presume?" + +"I enjoy that honor," returned the loquacious stranger. "But my duties +are manifold. As driver of the chariot, I endure the constant +apprehension of wrecking my company by the wayside. As assistant +carpenter, when we can not find a stage it is my task to erect one. As +bill-poster and license-procurer, treasurer and stage manager, my time +is not so taken up, sir, as to preclude my going on and assuming a +character." + +"A life of variety," observed the young man, politely if indifferently. + +"Yes; full of ups and downs, as the driver of the property wagon said +when we entered this hilly district," replied the manager, with the +contentment of a man who has found a snug haven after a hard ride in a +comparatively unbroken country. "Affluence we may know, but poverty is +apt to be our companion." + +To this the other deemed no response necessary and a silence fell +between them, broken only by the simmering water in the iron kettle, +the sputtering of the sap in the burning logs and the creaking without +of the long balancing pole that suspended the moss-covered bucket. The +wind sighed in the chimney and the wooing flames sprang to meet it, +while the heart of the fire glowed in a mass of coals between the +andirons. + +The old gentleman before the blaze began to outrival the kettle in +steaming; from his coat-tails a thin veil of mist ascended, his face +beaming through the vapor with benign felicity. Then he turned and +toasted the other side and the kettle reigned supreme until he thawed +once more and the clouds ascended, surrounding him like Jupiter on the +celestial mount. At that the kettle hummed more angrily and the old +gentleman's face beamed with satisfaction. + +"A snug company, sir," he said, finally, glowing upon the impassive +face before him, "like a tight ship, can weather a little bad weather. +Perhaps you noticed our troupe? The old lady is Mrs. Adams. She is +nearly seventy, but can dance a horn-pipe or a reel with the best of +them. The two sisters are Kate and Susan Duran, both coquettes of the +first water. Our juvenile man is a young Irishman who thinks much of +his dress and little of the cultivation of mind and manners. Then," +added the old man tenderly, "there is my Constance." + +He paused abruptly. "Landlord, a pot of ale. My throat is hoarse from +the mist. Fancy being for hours on a road not knowing where you are! +Your good-fortune, sir!" Lifting the mug. "More than once we lurched +like a cockle-shell." + +The conversation at this point was interrupted by the appearance of +the juvenile man. + +"Mr. Barnes, the ladies desire your company immediately." + +The manager hurriedly left the room and the newcomer regarded his +retiring figure with a twinkle in his eye. Then he took a turn around +the room in stilted fashion--like one who "carried about with him his +pits, boxes and galleries"--and observed: + +"Faith, Mr. Barnes' couch is not a bed of roses. It is better to have +the fair ones dangling after you, than to be running at their every +beck and call." + +Here he twisted his mustache upward. + +"A woman is a strange creature," he resumed. "If she calls and you +come once, your legs will be busy for the rest of your natural days." + +He seemed about to continue his observations along this philosophical +line, when the manager appeared in much perturbation, approaching the +landlord, who, at the same time, had entered the room from the +kitchen. + +"The ladies insist that their sheets are damp," began the manager in +his most plausible manner. + +A dangerous light appeared in the other's eyes. + +"It's the weather, you understand. Not your fault; bless you, no!" + +The landlord's face became a shade less acrimonious. + +"Now, if there was a fire in the room--it is such a comfortable, +cheery room--" + +"Sandy!" interrupted the host, calling to the long-armed, red-handed +stable boy, who thrust a shock of hair through the kitchen door. +"Build a fire upstairs." + +Mr. Barnes heaved a sigh of relief and drawing a chair to the blaze +prepared once more to enjoy a well-earned rest. + +By this time the shadows had begun to lengthen in the room as the +first traces of early twilight filled the valley. The gurgling still +continued down the water pipe; the old sign before the front door +moaned monotonously. An occasional gust of wind, which mysteriously +penetrated the mist without sweeping it aside, rattled the windows and +waved wildly in mid-air a venturesome rose which had clambered to the +second story of the old inn. The barn-yard appeared even more dismal +because of the coming darkness and the hens presented a pathetic +picture of discomfort as they tucked their heads under their wet +feathers for the night, while his lordship, the rooster, was but a +sorry figure upon his high perch, with the moisture regularly and +unceasingly dripping through the roof of the hen-house upon his +unprotected back. + +An aroma from the kitchen which penetrated the room seemed especially +grateful to the manager who smiled with satisfaction as he conjured up +visions of the forthcoming repast. By his Falstaffian girth, he +appeared a man not averse to good living, nor one to deny himself +plentiful libations of American home-brewed ale. + +"Next to actual dining," observed this past-master in the art, "are +the anticipations of the table. The pleasure consists in speculation +regarding this or that aroma, in classifying the viands and separating +this combination of culinary odors into courses of which you will in +due time partake. Alas for the poor stroller when the tavern ceases to +be! Already it is almost extinct on account of the Erie Canal. Only a +short time ago this room would have been crowded with teamsters of the +broad-tired Pennsylvania wagons, drawn by six or eight horses." + +Again the appetizing aroma from the kitchen turned the current of his +reflections into its original channel, for he concluded with: "An +excellent dinner is in progress, if my diagnosis of these penetrating +fragrances be correct." + +And it was soon demonstrated that the manager's discernment was not in +error. There was not only abundance but quality, and the landlord's +daughter waited on the guests, thereby subjecting herself to the very +open advances of the Celtic Adonis. The large table was laden with +heavy crockery, old-fashioned and quaint; an enormous rotary castor +occupied the center of the table, while the forks and spoons were--an +unusual circumstance!--of silver. + +When the company had seated themselves around the board the waitress +brought in a sucking pig, done to a turn, well stuffed, and with an +apple in its mouth. The manager heaved a sigh. + +"The lovely little monster," said Kate, admiringly. + +"Monster!" cried Susan. "Say cherub!" + +"So young and tender for such a fate!" exclaimed Hawkes, the +melancholy individual, with knife and fork held in mid-air. + +"But worthy of the bearer of the dish!" remarked Adonis, so pointedly +that the landlord's daughter, overwhelmed with confusion, nearly +dropped the platter, miniature porker and all. Whereupon Kate cast an +angry glance at the offender whom "she could not abide," yet regarded +in a certain proprietary way, and Adonis henceforth became less open +in his advances. + +Those other aromas which the manager had mentally classified took form +and substance and were arranged in tempting variety around the +appetizing and well-browned suckling. There were boiled and baked +hams, speckled with cloves, plates of doughnuts and pound cake, beet +root and apple sauce. Before each of the guests stood a foaming mug +of home-brewed ale that carried with it a palpable taste of the hops. + +"There is nothing of the stage repast about this," commented the +manager. + +To which Kate, having often partaken of the conventional banquet of +the theater, waved her hand in a serio-comic manner toward the _piece +de resistance_ and observed: + +"Suppose, now, by some necromancy our young and tender friend here on +the platter should be changed to a cleverly fashioned block of wood, +painted in imitation of a roasted porker, with a wooden apple in his +mouth?" + +The manager, poising the carving knife, replied: + +"Your suggestion is startling. We will obviate the possibility of any +such transformation." + +And he cut the "ambrosian fat and lean" with a firm hand, eying the +suckling steadfastly the while as if to preclude any exhibition of +Hindoo mysticism, while the buxom lass, the daughter of the boniface, +with round arms bared, bore sundry other dishes from place to place +until the plates were heaped with an assortment of viands. + +"Well, my dear, how are you getting on?" said the manager to the young +actress, Constance, as he helped himself to the crackle. "Have you +everything you want?" + +She nodded brightly, and the stranger who was seated some distance +from her glanced up; his gaze rested on her for a moment and then +returned in cold contemplation to the fare set before him. + +Yet was she worthy of more than passing scrutiny. The gleam of the +lamp fell upon her well-turned figure and the glistening of her eyes +could be seen in the shadow that rested on her brow beneath the crown +of hair. She wore a dark lavender dress, striped with silk, a small +"jacquette," after the style of the day, the sleeves being finished +with lace and the skirt full and flowing. Her heavy brown tresses were +arranged in a coiffure in the fashion then prevailing, a portion of +the hair falling in curls on the neck, the remainder brought forward +in plaits and fastened at the top of the forehead with a simple pearl +ornament. + +If the young girl felt any interest in the presence of the taciturn +guest she concealed it, scarcely looking at him and joining but rarely +in the conversation. Susan, on the other hand, resorted to sundry +coquetries. + +"I fear, sir, that you find our poor company intrusive, since we have +forced you to become one of us?" she said, toying with her fork, and +thereby displaying a white and shapely hand. + +His impassive blue eyes met her sparkling ones. + +"I am honored in being admitted to your fellowship," he returned +perfunctorily. + +"Only poor players, sir!" exclaimed Hawkes deprecatingly, with the +regal gesture a stage monarch might use in setting forth the +perplexities of royal pre-eminence. + +[Illustration] + +"The landlord does not seem to share your opinion?" continued Susan, +looking once more at the stranger. + +"As a host he believes in brave deeds, not fair words," said Kate, +indicating the remains of the repast. + +"Peace to his bones!" exclaimed the manager, extending a hand over the +remnants of the suckling. + +Here the dark-haired girl arose, the dinner being concluded. There was +none of his usual brusqueness of manner, as the manager, leaning back +in his chair and taking her hand, said: + +"You are going to retire, my dear? That is right. We have had a hard +day's traveling." + +She bent her head, and her lips pressed softly the old man's cheek, +after which she turned from the rest of the company with a grave bow. +But as she passed through the doorway her flowing gown caught upon a +nail in the wall. Pre-occupied though he seemed, her low exclamation +did not escape the ear of the stranger, and, quitting his place, he +knelt at her feet, and she, with half turned head and figure +gracefully poised, looked down upon him. + +With awkward fingers, he released the dress, and she bowed her +acknowledgment, which he returned with formal deference. Then she +passed on and he raised his head, his glance following her through the +bleak-looking hall, up the broad, ill-lighted staircase, into the +mysterious shadows which prevailed above. + +Shortly afterward the tired company dispersed, and the soldier also +sought his room. There he found the landlord's daughter before him +with the warming-pan. She had spread open the sheets of his bed and +was applying the old-fashioned contrivance for the prevention of +rheumatism, but it was evident her mind was not on this commendable +housewifely task, for she sighed softly and then observed: + +"It must be lovely to be an actress!" + +Dreamily she patted the pillows, until they were round and smooth, and +absently adjusted the bed, until there was not a wrinkle in the +snow-white counterpane, after which, like a good private in domestic +service, she shouldered the warming pan with its long handle, murmured +"good-night" and departed, not to dream of milking, churning or +cheese-making, but of a balcony and of taking poison in a tomb. + +Absently the stranger gazed at the books on the table: "Nutting's +Grammar," "Adams' Arithmetic," "David's Tears" and the "New England +Primer and Catechism"--all useful books undoubtedly, but not +calculated long to engross the attention of the traveler. Turning from +these prosaic volumes, the occupant of the chamber drew aside the +curtain of the window and looked out. + +Now the mists were swept away; the stars were shining and the gurgling +had grown fainter in the pipes that descended from the roof to the +ground. Not far was the dark fringe which marked the forest and the +liquid note of a whippoorwill arose out of the solitary depths, a +melancholy tone in the stillness of the night. The little owl, too, +was heard, his note now sounding like the filing of a saw and again +changing in character to the tinkling of a bell. A dog howled for a +moment in the barn-yard, and then, apparently satisfied with having +given this evidence of watchfulness, re-entered his house of one room +and curled himself upon the straw in his parlor, after which nothing +more was heard from him. + +Drawing the curtains of his own couch, a large, four-posted affair, +sleep soon overpowered the stranger; but sleep, broken and fitful! Nor +did he dream only of France and of kings running away, of American +land barons and of "bolters." More intrusive than these, the faces of +the strollers crept in and disturbed his slumbers, not least among +which were the features of the dark-eyed girl whose gown had caught as +she passed through the doorway. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A NEW ARRIVAL + + +The crowing of the cock awakened the French traveler, and, going to +the window, he saw that daylight had thrown its first shafts upon the +unromantic barn-yard scene, while in the east above the hill-tops +spread the early flush of morning. The watch-dog had left his +one-roomed cottage and was promenading before it in stately fashion +with all the pomp of a satisfied land-holder, his great undershot jaw +and the extraordinary outward curve of his legs proclaiming an +untarnished pedigree. The hens were happily engaged in scratching the +earth for their breakfast; the rooster, no longer crestfallen, was +strutting in the sunshine, while next to the barn several grunting, +squealing pigs struggled for supremacy in the trough. From the +cow-shed came an occasional low and soon a slip-shod maid, yawning +mightily, appeared, pail in hand, and moved across the yard to her +early morning task. + +Descending the stairs and making his way to the barn, the soldier +called to Sandy, the stable boy, who was performing his ablutions by +passing wet fingers through a shock of red hair, to saddle his horse. +The sleepy lad led forth a large but shapely animal, and soon the +stranger was galloping across the country, away from the village, now +down a gentle declivity, with the virgin forest on either side, then +through a tract of land where was apparent the husbandry of the +people. + +After a brisk pace for some miles, he reined in his horse, and, +leisurely riding in a circuit, returned on the road that crossed the +farming country back of the tavern. Around him lay fields of rye and +buckwheat sweet with the odor of the bee-hive; Indian corn, whose +silken tassels waved as high as those of Frederick's grenadiers', and +yellow pumpkins nestling to the ground like gluttons that had partaken +too abundantly of mother earth's nourishment. Intermingling with these +great oblong and ovoid gourds, squashes, shaped like turbans and +many-cornered hats, appeared in fantastic profusion. + +The rider was rapidly approaching the inn, when a sudden turn in the +highway, as the road swept around a wind-break of willows, brought him +upon a young woman who was walking slowly in the same direction. So +fast was the pace of his horse, and so unexpected the meeting, she was +almost under the trampling feet before he saw her. Taken by surprise, +she stood as if transfixed, when, with a quick, decisive effort, the +rider swerved his animal, and, of necessity, rode full tilt at the +fence and willows. She felt the rush of air; saw the powerful animal +lift itself, clear the rail-fence and crash through the bulwark of +branches. She gazed at the wind-break; a little to the right, or the +left, where the heavy boughs were thickly interlaced, and the rider's +expedient had proved serious for himself, but chance--he had no time +for choice--had directed him to a vulnerable point of leaves and +twigs. Before she had fairly recovered herself he reappeared at an +opening on the other side of the willow-screen, and, after removing a +number of rails, led his horse back to the road. + +With quivering nostrils, the animal appeared possessed of unquenchable +spirit, but his master's bearing was less assured as he approached, +with an expression of mingled anxiety and concern on his face, the +young girl whom the manager had addressed as Constance. + +"I beg your pardon for having alarmed you!" he said. "It was careless, +inexcusable!" + +"It was a little startling," she admitted, with a faint smile. + +"Only a little!" he broke in gravely. "If I had not seen you just when +I did--" + +"You would not have turned your horse--at such a risk to yourself!" +she added. + +"Risk to myself! From what?" A whimsical light encroached on the set +look in his blue eyes. "Jumping a rail fence? But you have not yet +said you have pardoned me?" + +The smile brightened. "Oh, I think you deserve that." + +"I am not so sure," he returned, glancing down at her. + +Slanting between the lower branches of the trees the sunshine touched +the young girl's hair in flickering spots and crept down her dress +like caressing hands of light, until her figure, passing into a solid +shadow, left these glimmerings prone upon the dusty road behind her. +The "brides," or strings of her little muslin cap, flaunted in the +breeze and a shawl of China crape fluttered from her shoulders. So +much of her dusky hair as defied concealment contrasted strongly with +the calm translucent pallor of her face. The eyes, alone, belittled +the tranquillity of countenance; against the rare repose of features, +they were the more eloquent, shining beneath brows, delicately defined +but strongly marked, and shaded by long upturned lashes, deep in tone +as a sloe. + +"You are an early riser," he resumed. + +"Not always," she replied. "But after yesterday it seemed so bright +outdoors and the country so lovely!" + +His gaze, following hers, traversed one of the hollows. Below yet +rested deep shadows, but upon the hillside a glory celestial enlivened +and animated the surrounding scene. Scattered houses, constituting the +little hamlet, lay in the partial shade of the swelling land, the +smoke, with its odor of burning pine, rising lazily on the languid +air. In the neighboring field a farm hand was breaking up the ground +with an old-fashioned, pug-nosed "dirt-rooter;" soil as rich as that +of Egypt, or the land, Gerar, where Isaac reaped an hundred fold and +every Israelite sat under the shadow of his own vine. + +Pausing, the husbandman leaned on the handle of his plow and +deliberately surveyed the couple on the road. Having at the same time +satisfied his curiosity and rested his arms, he grasped the handles +once more and the horses pulled and tugged at the primitive +implement. + +While the soldier and the young girl were thus occupied in surveying +the valley and the adjacent mounds and hummocks, the horse, +considering doubtlessly that there had been enough inaction, tapped +the ground with rebellious energy and tossed his head in mutiny +against such procrastination. + +"Your horse wants to go on," she said, observing this equine by-play. + +"He usually does," replied the rider. "Perhaps, though, I am +interrupting you? I see you have a play in your hand." + +"I was looking over a part--but I know it very well," she added, +moving slowly from the border of willows. Leading his horse, he +followed. + +His features, stern and obdurate in repose, relaxed in severity, while +the deep-set blue eyes grew less searching and guarded. This +alleviation became him well, a tide of youth softening his expression +as a wave smoothes the sands. + +"What is the part?" + +"Juliana, in 'The Honeymoon'! It is one of our stock pieces." + +"And you like it?" + +"Oh, yes." Lingering where a bit of sward was set with field flowers. + +"And who plays the duke?" he continued. + +"Mr. O'Flariaty," she answered, a suggestion of amusement in her +glance. Beneath the shading of straight, black brows, her eyes were +deceptively dark, until scrutinized closely, they resolved themselves +into a clear gray. + +"Ah," he said, recalling Adonis, O'Flariaty's, appearance, and, as he +spoke, a smile of singular sweetness lightened his face. "A Spanish +grandee with a touch of the brogue! But I must not decry your noble +lord!" he added. + +"No lord of mine!" she replied gaily. "My lord must have a velvet +robe, not frayed, and a sword not tin, and its most sanguinary purpose +must not be to get between his legs and trip him up! Of course, when +we act in barns--" + +"In barns!" + +"Oh, yes, when we can find them to act in!" + +She glanced at him half-mockingly. + +"I suppose you think of a barn as only a place for a horse." + +The sound of carriage wheels interrupted his reply, and, looking in +the direction from whence it came, they observed a coach doubling the +curve before the willows and approaching at a rapid pace. It was a +handsome and imposing equipage, with dark crimson body and wheels, +preserving much of the grace of ancient outline with the utility of +modern springs. + +As they drew aside to permit it to pass the features of its occupant +were seen, who, perceiving the young girl on the road--the shawl, +half-fallen from her shoulder revealing the plastic grace of an erect +figure--gazed at her with surprise, then thrust his head from the +window and bowed with smiling, if somewhat exaggerated, politeness. +The next moment carriage and traveler vanished down the road in a +cloud of dust, but an alert observer might have noticed an eye at the +rear port-hole, as though the person within was supplementing his +brief observation from the side with a longer, if diminishing, view +from behind. + +The countenance of the young girl's companion retrograded from its +new-found favor to a more inexorable cast. + +"A friend of yours?" he said, briefly. + +"I never saw him before," she answered with flashing eyes. "Perhaps he +is the lord of the manor and thought I was one of his subjects." + +"There are lords in this country, then?" + +"Lords or patroons, they are called," she replied, her face still +flushed. + +At this moment, across the meadows, beyond the fence of stumps--poor +remains of primeval monarchs!--a woman appeared at the back door of +the inn with a tin horn upon which she blew vigorously, the harsh +blasts echoing over hill and valley. The startled swallows and +martins arose from the eaves and fluttered above the roof. The farm +hand at the plow released the handle, and the slip-shod maid appeared +in the door of the cow-shed, spry and nimble enough at meal time. + +From the window of her room Susan saw them returning and looked +surprised as well as a bit annoyed. Truth to tell, Mistress Susan, +with her capacity for admiring and being admired, had conceived a +momentary interest in the stranger, a fancy as light as it was +ephemeral. That touch of melancholy when his face was in repose +inspired a transitory desire for investigation in this past-mistress +of emotional analysis. But the arrival of the coach which had passed +the couple soon diverted Susan's thoughts to a new channel. + +The equipage drew up, and a young man, dressed in a style novel in +that locality, sprang out. He wore a silk hat with scarcely any brim, +trousers extremely wide at the ankle, a waistcoat of the dimensions of +1745, and large watch ribbons, sustaining ponderous bunches of seals. + +The gallant fop touched the narrow brim of his hat to Kate, who was +peeping from one window, and waved a kiss to Susan, who was +surreptitiously glancing from another, whereupon both being detected, +drew back hastily. Overwhelmed by the appearance of a guest of such +manifest distinction, the landlord bowed obsequiously as the other +entered the tavern with a supercilious nod. + +To Mistress Susan this incident was exciting while it lasted, but +when the dandy had disappeared her attention was again attracted to +Constance and Saint-Prosper, who slowly approached. He paused with his +horse before the front door and she stood a moment near the little +porch, on either side of which grew sweet-williams, four-o'clocks and +larkspur. But the few conventional words were scanty crumbs for the +fair eavesdropper above, the young girl soon entering the house and +the soldier leading his horse in the direction of the stable. As the +latter disappeared around the corner of the tavern, Susan left the +window and turned to the mirror. + +"La!" she said, holding a mass of blond hair in one hand and deftly +coiling it upon her little head, "I believe she got up early to meet +him." But Kate only yawned lazily. + +Retracing his steps from the barn, the soldier crossed the back-yard, +where already on the clothes' line evidences of early matutinal +industry, a pair of blue over-alls, with sundry white and red +stockings, were dancing in the breeze. First the over-alls performed +wildly, then the white stockings responded with vim, while the red +ones outdid themselves by their shocking abandonment, vaunting skyward +as though impelled by the phantom limbs of some Parisian _danseuse_. + +Making his way by this dizzy saturnalia and avoiding the pranks of +animated hosiery and the more ponderous frolics of over-alls, sheets +and tablecloths, Saint-Prosper entered the kitchen. Here the farm hand +and maid of all work were eating, and the landlord's rotund and +energetic wife was bustling before the fireplace. An old iron crane, +with various sized pothooks and links of chain, swung from the jambs +at the will of the housewife. Boneset, wormwood and catnip had their +places on the wall, together with ears of corn and strings of dried +apples. + +Bustling and active, with arms bared to the elbow and white with +flour, the spouse of mine host realized the scriptural injunction: +"She looketh well to the ways of her household." Deftly she spread the +dough in the baking pan; smoothly leveled it with her palm; with nice +mathematical precision distributed bits of apple on top in parallel +rows; lightly sprinkled it with sugar, and, lo and behold, was +fashioned an honest, wholesome, Dutch apple cake, ready for the +baking! + +In the tap-room the soldier encountered the newcomer, seated not far +from the fire as though his blood flowed sluggishly after his long +ride in the chill morning air. Upon the table lay his hat, and he was +playing with the seals on his watch ribbon, his legs indolently +stretched out straight before him. Occasionally he coughed when the +smoke, exuding from the damp wood, was not entirely expelled up the +chimney, but curled around the top of the fireplace and diffused +itself into the atmosphere. Well-built, although somewhat slender of +figure, this latest arrival had a complexion of tawny brown, a living +russet, as warm and glowing as the most vivid of Vandyke pigments. + +He raised his eyes slowly as the soldier entered and surveyed him +deliberately. From a scrutiny of mere physical attributes he passed on +to the more important details of clothes, noting that his sack coat +was properly loose at the waist and that the buttons were sufficiently +large to pass muster, but also detecting that the trousers lacked +breadth at the ankles and that the hat had a high crown and a broad +brim, from which he complacently concluded the other was somewhat +behind the shifting changes of fashion. + +"Curse me, if this isn't a beastly fire!" he exclaimed, stretching +himself still more, yawning and passing a hand through his black hair. +"Hang them, they might as well shut up their guests in the smoke-house +with the bacons and hams! I feel as cured as a side of pig, ready to +be hung to a dirty rafter." + +With which he pulled himself together, went to the window, raised it +and placed a stick under the frame. + +"They tell me there's a theatrical troupe here," he resumed, returning +to his chair and relapsing into its depths. "Perhaps you are one of +them?" + +"I have not that honor." + +"Honor!" repeated the new arrival with a laugh. "That's good! That was +one of them on the road with you, I'll be bound. You have good taste! +Heigho!" he yawned again. "I'm anchored here awhile on account of a +lame horse. Perhaps though"--brightening--"it may not be so bad after +all. These players promise some diversion." At that moment his face +wore an expression of airy, jocund assurance which faded to visible +annoyance as he continued: "Where can that landlord be? He placed me +in this kennel, vanished, and left me to my fate. Ah, here he is at +last!" As the host approached, respectfully inquiring: + +"Is there anything more I can do for you?" + +"More?" exclaimed this latest guest, ironically. "Well, better late +than never! See that my servant has help with the trunks." + +"Very well, sir; I'll have Sandy look after them. You are going to +stay then?" Shifting several bottles on the bar with apparent +industry. + +"How can I tell?" returned the newcomer lightly. "Fate is a Sphynx, +and I am not OEdipus to answer her questions!" + +The landlord looked startled, paused in his feigned employment, but +slowly recovering himself, began to dust a jar of peppermint candy. + +"How far is it to Meadtown?" continued the guest. + +"Forty odd miles! Perhaps you are seeking the old patroon manor there? +They say the heir is expected any day"--gazing fixedly at the young +man--"at least, the anti-renters have received information he is +coming and are preparing--" + +The sprightly guest threw up his hands. + +"The trunks! the trunks!" he exclaimed in accents of despair. "Look at +the disorder of my attire! The pride of these ruffles leveled by the +dew; my wristbands in disarray; the odor of the road pervading my +person! The trunks, I pray you!" + +"Yes, sir; at once, sir! But first let me introduce you to Mr. +Saint-Prosper, of Paris, France. Make yourselves at home, gentlemen!" + +With which the speaker hurriedly vanished and soon the bumping and +thumping in the hall gave cheering assurance of instructions +fulfilled. + +"That porter is a prince among his kind," observed the guest +satirically, wincing as an unusual bang overhead shook the ceiling. +"But I'll warrant my man won't have to open my luggage after he gets +through." + +Then as quiet followed the racket above--"So you're from Paris, +France?" he asked half-quizzically. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet +somebody from somewhere. As I, too, have lived--not in vain!--in +Paris, France, we may have mutual friends?" + +"It is unlikely," said the soldier, who meanwhile had drawn off his +riding gloves, placed them on the mantel, and stood facing the fire, +with his back to the other guest. As he spoke he turned deliberately +and bent his penetrating glance on his questioner. + +"Really? Allow me to be skeptical, as I have considerable acquaintance +there. In the army there's that fire-eating conqueror of the ladies, +Gen--" + +"My rank was not so important," interrupted the other, "that I +numbered commanders among my personal friends." + +"As you please," said the last guest carelessly. "I had thought to +exchange a little gossip with you, but--_n'importe_! In my own veins +flows some of the blood of your country." + +For the time his light manner forsook him. + +"Her tumults have, in a measure, been mine," he continued. "Now she is +without a king, I am well-nigh without a mother-land. True; I was not +born there--but it is the nurse the child turns to. Paris was my +_bonne_--a merry abigail! Alas, her vicious brood have turned on her +and cast her ribbons in the mire! Untroubled by her own brats, she +could extend her estates to the Eldorado of the southwestern seas." He +had arisen and, with hands behind his back, was striding to and fro. +Coming suddenly to a pause, he asked abruptly: + +"Do you know the Abbe Moneau?" + +At the mention of that one-time subtle confidant of the deposed king, +now the patron of republicanism, Saint-Prosper once more regarded his +companion attentively. + +"By reputation, certainly," he answered, slowly. + +"He was my tutor and is now my frequent correspondent. Not a bad sort +of mentor, either!" The new arrival paused and smiled reflectively. +"Only recently I received a letter from him, with private details of +the flight of the king and vague intimations of a scandal in the army, +lately come to light." + +His listener half-started from his seat and had the speaker not been +more absorbed in his own easy flow of conversation than in the +attitude of the other, he would have noticed that quick change of +manner. Not perceiving it, however, he resumed irrelevantly: + +"You see I am a sociable animal. After being cramped in that +miserable coach for hours, it is a relief to loosen one's tongue as +well as one's legs. Even this smoky hovel suggests good-fellowship and +jollity beyond a dish of tea. Will you not join me in a bottle of +wine? I carry some choice brands to obviate the necessity of drinking +the home-brewed concoctions of the inn-keepers of this district." + +"Thank you," said the soldier, at the same time rising from his chair. +"I have no inclination so early in the day." + +"Early?" queried the newcomer. "A half-pint of Chateau Cheval Blanc or +Cru du Chevalier, high and vinous, paves a possible way for Brother +Jonathan's _dejeuner_--fried pork, potatoes and chicory!" And turning +to his servant who had meanwhile entered, he addressed a few words to +him, and, as the door closed on the soldier, exclaimed with a shrug of +the shoulders: + +"An unsociable fellow! I wonder what he is doing here." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE VENTURE + + +Pancakes, grits, home-made sausage, and, before each guest, an egg +that had been proudly heralded by the clucking hen but a few hours +before--truly a bountiful breakfast, discrediting the latest guest's +anticipations! The manager, in high spirits, mercurial as the weather, +came down from his room, a bundle of posters under his arm, +boisterously greeting Saint-Prosper, whom he encountered in the hall: + +"Read the bill! 'That incomparable comedy, The Honeymoon, by a +peerless company.' How does that sound?" + +"Attractive, certainly," said the other. + +"Do you think it strong enough? How would 'unparagoned' do?" + +"It would be too provincial, my dear; too provincial!" interrupted the +querulous voice of the old lady. + +"Very well, Madam!" the manager replied quickly. "You shall be +'peerless' if you wish. Every fence shall proclaim it; every post +become loquacious with it." + +"I was going to the village myself," said the soldier, "and will join +you, if you don't mind?" he added suddenly. + +"Mind? Not a bit. Come along, and you shall learn of the duties of +manager, bill-poster, press-agent and license-procurer." + +An hour or so later found the two walking down the road at a brisk +pace, soon leaving the tavern behind them and beginning to descend a +hill that commanded a view to eastward. + +"How do you advertise your performances?" asked the younger man, +opening the conversation. + +"By posters, written announcements in the taverns, or a notice in the +country paper, if we happen along just before it goes to press," +answered Barnes. "In the old times we had the boy and the bell." + +"The boy and the bell?" + +"Yes," assented Barnes, a retrospective smile overspreading his +good-natured face; "when I was a lad in Devonshire the manager announced +the performance in the town market-place. I rang a cow-bell to attract +attention and he talked to the people: Ding-a-ling!--'Good people, +to-night will be given "Love in a Wood";' ding-a-long!--'to-morrow night, +"The Beaux' Strategem'";' ding!--'Wednesday, "The Provoked Wife";' +ling!--'Thursday, "The Way of the World."' So I made my debut in a +noisy part and have since played no role more effectively than that of the +small boy with the big bell. Incidentally, I had to clean the lamps +and fetch small beer to the leading lady, which duties were perfunctorily +performed. My art, however, I threw into the bell," concluded the +manager with a laugh. + +"Do you find many theaters hereabouts?" asked the other, thoughtfully. + +Barnes shook his head. "No; although there are plenty of them upon the +Atlantic and Southern circuits. Still we can usually rent a hall, +erect a stage and construct tiers of seats. Even a barn at a pinch +makes an acceptable temple of art. But our principal difficulty is +procuring licenses to perform." + +"You have to get permission to play?" + +"That we do!" sighed the manager. "From obdurate trustees in villages +and stubborn supervisors or justices of the peace in the hamlets." + +"But their reason for this opposition?" asked his companion. + +They were now entering the little hamlet, exchanging the grassy path +for a sidewalk of planks laid lengthwise, and the peace of nature for +such signs of civilization as a troop of geese, noisily promenading +across the thoroughfare, and a peacock--in its pride of pomp as a +favored bird of old King Solomon--crying from the top of the shed and +proudly displaying its gorgeous train. Barnes wiped the perspiration +from his brow, as he answered: + +"Well, a temperance and anti-theatrical agitation has preceded us in +the Shadengo Valley, a movement originated in Baltimore by seven men +who had been drunkards and are now lecturing throughout the country. +This is known as the 'Washington' movement, and among the most +formidable leaders of the crusade is an old actor, John B. Gough. But +here we are at the supervisor's office. I'll run in and get the +license, if you'll wait a moment." + +Saint-Prosper assented, and Barnes disappeared through the door of a +one-story wooden building which boasted little in its architectural +appearance and whose principal decorations consisted of a small +window-garden containing faded geraniums, and a sign with sundry +inverted letters. The neighborhood of this far from imposing structure +was a rendezvous for many of the young men of the place who had much +leisure, and, to judge from the sidewalk, an ample supply of Lone Jack +or some other equally popular plug tobacco. As Saint-Prosper surveyed +his surroundings, the Lone Jack, or other delectable brand, was +unceremoniously passed from mouth to mouth with immediate and +surprising results so far as the sidewalk was concerned. Regarding +these village yokels with some curiosity, the soldier saw in them a +possible type of the audiences to which the strollers must appeal for +favor. To such hobnails must the fair Rosalind say: "I would kiss as +many of you as had beards that pleased me." And the churls would +applaud with their cowhide boots, devour her with eager eyes and--at +this point the soldier found himself unconsciously frowning at his +village neighbors until, with an impatient laugh, he recalled his +wandering fancies. What was it to him whether the players appeared in +city or hamlet? Why should he concern himself in possible conjectures +on the fortunes of these strollers? Moreover-- + +Here Barnes reappeared with dejection in his manner, and, treading his +way absent-mindedly past the Lone Jack contingent with no word of +explanation to his companion, began to retrace his steps toward the +hostelry on the hill. + +"Going back so soon?" asked the young man in surprise. + +"There is nothing to be done here! The temperance lecturer has just +gone; the people are set against plays and players. The supervisor +refuses the license." + +With which the manager relapsed into silence, rueful and melancholy. +Their road ran steadily upward from the sleepy valley, skirting a wood +where the luxuriance of the overhanging foliage and the bright +autumnal tint of the leaves were like a scene of a spectacular play. +Out of breath from the steepness of the ascent, and, with his hand +pressed to his side, Barnes suddenly called a halt, seated himself on +a stump, his face somewhat drawn, and spoke for the first time since +he left the hamlet. + +"Let's rest a moment. Something catches me occasionally here," tapping +his heart. "Ah, that's better! The pain has left. No; it's nothing. +The machinery is getting old, that's all! Let me see--Ah, yes!" And he +drew a cigar from his pocket. "Perhaps there lies a crumb of comfort +in the weed!" + +The manager smoked contemplatively, like a man pushed to the verge of +disaster, weighing the slender chances of mending his broken fortunes. +But as he pondered his face gradually lightened with a faint glimmer +of satisfaction. His mind, seeking for a straw, caught at a possible +way out of this labyrinth of difficulties and in a moment he had +straightened up, puffing veritable optimistic wreaths. He arose +buoyantly; before he reached the inn the crumb of comfort had become a +loaf of assurance. + +At the tavern the manager immediately sought mine host, stating his +desire to give a number of free performances in the dining-room of the +hotel. The landlord demurred stoutly; he was an inn-keeper, not the +proprietor of a play-house. Were not tavern and theater inseparable, +retorted Barnes? The country host had always been a patron of the +histrionic art. Beneath his windows the masque and interlude were +born. The mystery, harlequinade and _divertissement_ found shelter in +a pot-house. + +In a word, so indefatigably did he ply arguments, appealing alike to +clemency and cupidity--the custom following such a course--that the +landlord at length reluctantly consented, and soon after the +dining-room was transformed into a temple of art; stinted, it is true, +for flats, drops, flies and screens, but at least more tenable than +the roofless theaters of other days, when a downpour drenched the +players and washed out the public, causing rainy tears to drip from +Ophelia's nose and rivulets of rouge to trickle down my Lady +Slipaway's marble neck and shoulders. In this labor of converting the +dining-room into an auditory, they found an attentive observer in the +landlord's daughter who left her pans, plates and platters to watch +these preparations with round-eyed admiration. To her that temporary +stage was surrounded by glamour and romance; a world remote from cook, +scullion and maid of all work, and peopled with well-born dames, +courtly ladies and exalted princesses. + +Possibly interested in what seemed an incomprehensible venture--for +how could the manager's coffers be replenished by free +performances?--Saint-Prosper that afternoon reminded Barnes he had +returned from the village without fulfilling his errand. + +"Dear me!" exclaimed Barnes, his face wrinkling in perplexity. "What +have I been thinking about? I don't see how I can go now. Hawkes or +O'Flariaty can't be spared, what with lamps to polish and costumes to +get in order! Hum!" he mused dubiously. + +"If I can be of any use, command me," said the soldier, unexpectedly. + +"You!"--exclaimed the manager. "I could not think--" + +"Oh, it's a notable occupation," said the other with a satirical +smile. "Was it not the bill-posters who caused the downfall of the +French dynasty?" he added. + +"In that case," laughed Barnes, with a sigh of relief, "go ahead and +spread the inflammable dodgers! Paste them everywhere, except on the +tombstones in the graveyard." + +Conspicuously before the postoffice, grocery store, on the town pump +and the fence of the village church, some time later, the soldier +accordingly nailed the posters, followed by an inquisitive group, who +read the following announcement: "Tuesday, 'The Honeymoon'; Wednesday, +'The School for Scandal'; Thursday, 'The Stranger,' with diverting +specialties; Friday, 'Romeo and Juliet'; Saturday, 'Hamlet,' with a +Jig by Kate Duran. At the Travelers' Friend. Entrance Free." + +"They're going to play after all," commented the blacksmith's wife. + +"I don't see much harm in 'Hamlet,'" said the supervisor's yokemate. +"It certainly ain't frivolous." + +"Let's go to 'The Honeymoon'?" suggested an amorous carl to his +slip-slop Sal. + +"Go 'long!" she retorted with barn-yard bashfulness. + +"Did you ever see 'The School for Scandal'?" asked the smithy's good +wife. + +"Once," confessed the town official's faded consort, her worn face +lighting dreamily. "It was on our wedding trip to New York. Silas +warn't so strict then." + +Amid chit-chat, so diverting, Saint-Prosper finished "posting" the +town. It had been late in the afternoon before he had altered the +posters and set out on his paradoxical mission; the sun was declining +when he returned homeward. Pausing at a cross-road, he selected a tree +for one of his remaining announcements. It was already adorned with a +dodger, citing the escape of a negro slave and offering a reward for +his apprehension; not an uncommon document in the North in those +days. + +As the traveler read the bill his expression became clouded, +cheerless. Around him the fallen leaves gave forth a pleasant +fragrance; caught in the currents of the air, they danced in a circle +and then broke away, hurrying helter-skelter in all directions. + +"Poor devil!" he muttered. "A fugitive--in hiding--" + +And he nailed one of his own bills over the dodger. As he stood there +reflectively the lights began to twinkle in the village below like +stars winking upwards; the ascending smoke from a chimney seemed a +film of lace drawn slowly through the air; from the village forge came +a brighter glow as the sparks danced from the hammers on the anvils. + +Shaking the reins on his horse's neck, the soldier continued his way, +while the sun, out of its city of clouds, sent beams like a +searchlight to the church spire; the fields, marked by the plow; the +gaunt stumps in a clearing, displaying their giant sinews. Then the +resplendent rays vanished, the battlements crumbled away and night, +with its army of shadows, invaded the earth. As Saint-Prosper +approached the tavern, set prominently on the brow of the hill, all +was solemnly restful save the sign which now creaked in doleful +doldrums and again complained wildly as the wind struck it a vigorous +blow. The windows were bright from the fireplace and lamp; above the +door the light streamed through the open transom upon the swaying +sign and the fluttering leaves of the vine that clambered around the +entrance. + +In the parlor, near a deteriorated piano whose yellow keys were +cracked and broken--in almost the seventh stage of pianodum, _sans_ +teeth, _sans_ wire, _sans_ everything--he saw the dark-eyed girl and +reined his horse. As he did so, she seated herself upon the hair-cloth +stool, pressed a white finger to a discolored key and smiled at the +not unexpected result--the squeak of decrepitude. While her hand still +rested on the board and her features shone strongly in relief against +the fire like a cameo profile set in bloodstone, a figure approached, +and, leaning gracefully upon the palsied instrument, bent over her +with smiling lips. It was the grand seignior, he of the equipage with +silver trimmings. If the horseman's gaze rested, not without interest, +on the pleasing picture of the young actress, it was now turned with +sudden and greater intentness to that of the dashing stranger, a swift +interrogation glancing from that look. + +How had he made his peace with her? Certainly her manner now betrayed +no resentment. While motionless the rider yet sat in his saddle, an +invisible hand grasped the reins. + +"Shall I put up your horse?" said a small voice, and the soldier +quickly dismounted, the animal vanishing with the speaker, as +Saint-Prosper entered the inn. Gay, animated, conscious of his +attractions, the fop hovered over the young girl, an all-pervading +Hyperion, with faultless ruffles, white hands, and voice softly +modulated. That evening the soldier played piquet with the wiry old +lady, losing four shillings to that antiquated gamester, and, when he +had paid the stakes, the young girl was gone and the buoyant beau had +sought diversion in his cups. + +"Strike me," muttered the last named personage, "the little stroller +has spirit. How her eyes flashed when I first approached her! It +required some tact and acting to make her believe I took her for some +one else on the road. Not such an easy conquest as I thought, although +I imagine I have put that adventurer's nose out of joint. But why +should I waste time here? Curse it, just to cut that fellow out! +Landlord!" + +"Yes, sir," answered the host behind the bar, where he had been +quietly dozing on a stool with his back against the wall. + +"Do you think my horse will be fit for use to-morrow morning?" + +"The swelling has gone down, sir, and perhaps, with care--" + +"Perhaps! I'll take no chances. Hang the nag, but I must make the best +of it! See that my bed is well warmed, and"--rising--"don't call me in +the morning. I'll get up when I please. Tell my man to come up at +once--I suppose he's out with the kitchen wenches. I have some orders +to give him for the morning. Stay--send up a lamp, and--well, I +believe that's all for now!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"GREEN GROW THE RUSHES, O!" + + +So well advertised in the village had been the theatrical company and +so greatly had the crusade against the play and players whetted public +curiosity that on the evening of the first performance every bench in +the dining-room--auditorium--of the tavern had an occupant, while in +the rear the standing room was filled by the overflow. Upon the +counter of the bar were seated a dozen or more men, including the +schoolmaster, an itinerant pedagogue who "boarded around" and received +his pay in farm products, and the village lawyer, attired in a +claret-colored frock coat, who often was given a pig for a retainer, +or knotty wood, unfit for rails. + +From his place, well to the front, the owner of the private equipage +surveyed the audience with considerable amusement and complacency. He +was fastidiously dressed in double-breasted waistcoat of figured silk, +loosely fitting trousers, fawn-colored kid gloves, light pumps and +silk hose. Narrow ruffles edged his wristbands which were fastened +with link buttons, while the lining of his evening coat was of +immaculate white satin. As he gazed around upon a scene at once novel +and incongruous, he took from his pocket a little gold case, bearing +an ivory miniature, and, with the eyes of his neighbors bent +expectantly upon him, extracted therefrom a small, white cylinder. + +"What may that be, mister?" inquired an inquisitive rustic, placing +his hand on the other's shoulder. + +The latter drew back as if resenting that familiar touch, and, by way +of answer, poised the cylinder in a tiny holder and deliberately +lighted it, to the amazement of his questioner. Cigarettes were then +unknown in that part of the state and the owner of the coach enjoyed +the dubious distinction of being the first to introduce them there. +"Since which time," says Chronicler Barnes in his memoirs, "their use +and abuse has, I believe, extended." + +The lighting of the aboriginal American cigarette drew general +attention to the smoker and the doctor, not a man of modern small +pills, but a liberal dispenser of calomel, jalap, castor-oil and +quinine, whispered to the landlord: + +"Azeriah, who might he be?" + +"The heir of the patroon estate, Ezekiel. I found the name on his +trunks: 'Edward Mauville.'" + +"Sho! Going to take possession at the manor?" + +"He cal'lates to, I guess, ef he can!" + +"Yes; ef he can!" significantly repeated the doctor. "So this is +the foreign heir? He's got wristbands like a woman and hands +just as small. Wears gloves like my darter when she goes to +meeting-house! And silk socks! Why, the old patroon didn't wear +none at all, and corduroy was good enough for him, they say. +Wonder how the barn-burners will take to the silk socks? Who's the +other stranger, Azeriah?" Indicating with his thumb the soldier, +who, standing against a window casement in the rear of the room, +was by his height a conspicuous figure in the gathering. + +"I don't exactly know, Ezekiel," replied the landlord, regretfully. +"Not that I didn't try to find out," he added honestly, "but he was so +close, I couldn't get nothing from him. He's from Paris, France; may +be Louis Philippe himself, for all I know." + +"No; he ain't Louis Philippe," returned the doctor with decision, +"'cause I seen his likeness in the magazine." + +"Might be the dolphin then," suggested the boniface. "He's so mighty +mysterious." + +"Dolphin!" retorted the other contemptuously. "There ain't no dolphin. +There hasn't been no dolphin since the French Revolution." + +"Oh, I didn't know but there might a been," said the landlord +vaguely. + +From mouth to mouth the information, gleaned by the village doctor, +was circulated; speculation had been rife ever since the demise of the +last patroon regarding his successor, and, although the locality was +beyond the furthermost reach of that land-holder, their interest was +none the less keen. The old master of the manor had been like a myth, +much spoken of, never seen without the boundaries of his acres; but +the new lord was a reality, a creditable creation of tailor, hatter, +hosier, cobbler--which trades had not flourished under the old master +who bought his clothes, cap and boots at a country store, owned by +himself. Anticipation of the theatrical performance was thus relieved +in a measure by the presence of the heir, but the delay, incident to a +first night on an improvised stage, was so unusual that the audience +at length began to evince signs of restlessness. + +Finally, however, when the landlord's daughter had gazed what seemed +to her an interminable period upon the lady and the swan, the lake and +the greyhound, painted on the curtain, this picture vanished by +degrees, with an exhilarating creaking of the rollers, and was +succeeded by the representation of a room in a cottage. The scenery, +painted in distemper and not susceptible to wind or weather, had +manifold uses, reappearing later in the performance as a nobleman's +palace, supplemented, it is true, by a well-worn carpet to indicate +ducal luxury. + +Some trifling changes--concessions to public opinion--were made in the +play, notably in the scene where the duke, with ready hospitality, +offers wine to the rustic Lopez. In Barnes' expurgated, "Washingtonian" +version (be not shocked, O spirit of good Master Tobin!) the countryman +responded reprovingly: "Fie, my noble Duke! Have you no water from the +well?" An answer diametrically opposed to the tendencies of the +sack-guzzling, roistering, madcap playwrights of that early period! + +On the whole the representation was well-balanced, with few weak spots +in the acting for fault finding, even from a more captious gathering. +In the costumes, it is true, the carping observer might have detected +some flaws; notably in Adonis, a composite fashion plate, who strutted +about in the large boots of the Low Countries, topped with English +trunk hose of 1550; his hand upon the long rapier of Charles II, while +a periwig and hat of William III crowned his empty pate! + +Kate was Volante; not Tobin's Volante, but one fashioned out of her +own characteristics; supine, but shapely; heavy, but handsome; slow, +but specious. Susan, with hair escaping in roguish curls beneath her +little cap; her taper waist encompassed by a page's tunic; the trim +contour of her figure frankly revealed by her vestment, was truly a +lad "dressed up to cozen" any lover who preferred his friend and his +bottle to his mistress. Merry as a sand-boy she danced about in russet +boots that came to the knee; lithe and lissome in the full swing of +immunity from skirts, mantle and petticoats! + +Conscious that his identity had been divined, and relishing, perhaps, +the effect of its discovery, the young patroon gazed languidly at the +players, until the entrance of Constance as Juliana, when he forgot +the pleasing sensations of self-thought, in contemplation of the +actress. He remarked a girlish form of much grace, attired in an +attractive gown of white satin and silver, as became a bride, with +train and low shimmering bodice, revealing the round arms and +shoulders which arose ivory-like in whiteness. Instead of the +customary feathers and other ornaments of the period, specified in the +text of the play, roses alone softened the effect of her dark hair. +Very different she appeared in this picturesque Spanish attire from +the lady of the lane, with the coquettish cap of muslin and its +"brides," or strings. + +The light that burned within shone from her eyes, proud yet gay; it +lurked in the corners of her mouth, where gravity followed merriment, +as silence follows laughter when the brook sweeps from the purling +stones to the deeper pools. Her art was unconscious of itself and +scene succeeded scene with a natural charm, revealing unexpected +resources, from pathos to sorrow; from vanity to humility; from scorn +to love awakened. And, when the transition did come, every pose spoke +of the quickening heart; her movements proclaimed the golden fetters; +passion shone in her glances, defiant though willing, lofty though +humble, joyous though shy. + +Was it the heat from the lamps?--but Mauville's brow became flushed; +his buoyancy seemed gross and brutal; desire lurked in his lively +glances; Pan gleamed from the curls of Hyperion! + +The play jogged on its blithesome course to its wonted end; the duke +delivered the excellent homily, + + "A gentle wife + Is still the sterling comfort of a man's life," + +and the well-pleased audience were preparing to leave when Barnes, in +a drab jacket and trunks, trimmed with green ribbon bows, came forward +like the clown in the circus and addressed the "good people." + +"In the golden age," said the father of Juliana, "great men treated +actors like servants, and, if they offended, their ears were cut off. +Are we, in brave America, returning to the days when they tossed an +actor in a blanket or gave a poet a hiding? Shall we stifle an art +which is the purest inspiration of Athenian genius? The law prohibits +our performing and charging admission, but it does not debar us from +taking a collection, if"--with a bow in which dignity and humility +were admirably mingled--"you deem the laborer worthy of his hire?" + +This novel epilogue was received with laughter and applause, but the +audience, although good-natured, contained its proportion of timid +souls who retreat before the passing plate. The rear guard began to +show faint signs of demoralization, when Mauville sprang to his feet. +Pan had disappeared behind his leafy covert; it was the careless, +self-possessed man of the world who arose. + +"I am not concerned about the ethics of art," he said lightly, "but +the ladies of the company may count me among their devout admirers. I +am sure," he added, bowing to the manager with ready grace, "if they +were as charming in the old days, after the lords tossed the men, they +made love to the women." + +"There were no actresses in those days, sir," corrected Barnes, +resenting the flippancy of his aristocratic auditor. + +"No actresses?" retorted the heir. "Then why did people go to the +theater? However, without further argument, let me be the first +contributor." + +"The prodigal!" said the doctor in an aside to the landlord. "He's +holding up a piece of gold. It's the first time ever patroon was a +spendthrift!" + +But Mauville's words, on the whole, furthered the manager's project, +and the audience remained in its integrity, while Balthazar, a +property helmet in hand, descended from his palace and trod the aisles +in his drab trunk-hose and purple cloak, a royal mendicant, in whose +pot soon jingled the pieces of silver. No one shirked his admission +fee and some even gave in excess; the helmet teemed with riches; once +it had saved broken heads, now it repaired broken fortunes, its +properties magical, like the armor of Pallas. + +"How did you like the play, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" said Barnes, as he +approached that person. + +"Much; and as for the players"--a gleam of humor stealing over his +dark features--"'peerless' was not too strong." + +"'Your approbation likes me most, my lord,'" quoted the manager, and +passed quickly on with his tin pot, in a futile effort to evade the +outstretched hand of his whilom helper. + +Thanking the audience for their generosity and complimenting them on +their intelligence, the self-constituted lord of the treasury vanished +once more behind the curtain. The orchestra of two struck up a negro +melody; the audience rose again, the women lingering to exchange their +last innocent gossip about prayer-meeting, or about the minister who +"knocked the theologic dust from the pulpit cushions in the good old +orthodox way," when some renegade exclaimed: "Clear the room for a +dance!" + +Jerusha's shawl straightway fell from her shoulders; Hannah's bonnet +was whipped from her head; Nathaniel paused on his way to the stable +yard to bring out the team and a score of willing hands obeyed the +injunction amid laughing encouragement from the young women whose feet +already were tapping the floor in anticipation of the Virginia Reel, +Two Sisters, Hull's Victory, or even the waltz, "lately imported from +the Rhine." A battered Cremona appeared like magic and + + "In his shirt of check and tallowed hair + The fiddler sat in his bull-rush chair," + +while "'Twas Monnie Musk in busy feet and Monnie Musk by +heart"--old-fashioned "Monnie Musk" with "first couple join right +hands and swing," "forward six" and "across the set"; an honest dance +for country folk that only left regrets when it came to "Good Night +for aye to Monnie Musk," although followed by the singing of "Old +Hundred" or "Come, ye Sinners, Poor and Needy," on the homeward +journey. + +In the parlor the younger lads and lasses were playing "snap and catch +'em" and similar games. The portly Dutch clock gazed down benignly on +the scene, its face shining good-humoredly like the round visage of +some comfortable burgher. "Green grow the rushes, O!" came from many +merry-makers. "Kiss her quick and let her go" was followed by +scampering of feet and laughter which implied a doubt whether the lad +had obeyed the next injunction, "But don't you muss her ruffle, O!" +Forming a moving ring around a young girl, they sang: "There's a rose +in the garden for you, young man." A rose, indeed, or a rose-bud, +rather, with ruffles he was commanded not to "muss," but which, +nevertheless, suffered sadly! + +Among these boys and girls, the patroon discovered Constance, no +longer "to the life a duchess," with gown in keeping with the "pride +and pomp of exalted station," but attired in the simple dress of +lavender she usually wore, though the roses still adorned her hair. +Shunning the entrancing waltz, the inspiring "Monnie Musk" and the +cotillion, lively when set to Christy's melodies, she had sought the +more juvenile element, and, when seen by the land baron, was circling +around with fluttering skirts. Joyous, merry, there was no hint now in +her natural, girlish ways of the capacity that lay within for varied +impersonations, from the lightness of coquetry to the thrill of +tragedy. + +He did not know how it happened, as he stood there watching her, but +the next moment he was imprisoned by the group and voices were +singing: + +"There he stands, the booby; who will have him for his beauty?" + +Who? His eye swept the group; the merry, scornful glances fixed upon +him; the joyous, half-inviting glances; the red lips parted as in +kindly invitation; shy lips, willing lips! + +Who? His look kindled; he had made his selection, and the next moment +his arm was impetuously thrown around the actress's waist. + +"Kiss her quick and let her go!" + +Amid the mad confusion he strove to obey the command, but a panting +voice murmured "no, no!" a pair of dark eyes gazed into his for an +instant, defiantly, and the pliant waist slipped from his impassioned +grasp; his eager lips, instead of touching that glowing cheek, only +grazed a curl that had become loosened, and, before he could repeat +the attempt, she had passed from his arms, with laughing lips and +eyes. + +"Play fair!" shouted the lads. "He should 'kiss her quick and let her +go.'" + +"Oh, he let her go first!" said the others. + +"'Kiss her quick,'" reiterated the boys. + +"He can't now," answered the girls. + +The voices took up the refrain: "Don't you muss the ruffles, O!" and +the game went on. The old clock gossiped gleefully, its tongue +repeating as plainly as words: + +"Let-her-go!--ho!--ho!--one--two--three!" + +Three o'clock! Admonishingly rang out the hour, the jovial face of the +clock looking sterner than was its wont. It glowered now like a +preacher in his pulpit upon a sinful congregation. Enough of +"snatch-and-catch'em;" enough of Hull's Victory or the Opera Reel; +let the weary fiddler descend from his bull-rush chair, for soon the +touch of dawn will be seen in the eastern sky! The merry-making began +to wane and already the sound of wagon-wheels rattled over the log +road away from the tavern. Yes, they were singing, and, as Hepsibeth +leaned her head on Josiah's shoulder, they uplifted their voices in +the good old orthodox hymn, "Come, Ye Sinners," for thus they courted +and worshiped in olden times. + +"Good-night, every one!" said a sweet voice, as Constance passed +calmly on, with not a ruffle mussed. + +"Good-night," answered the patroon, a sparkle in his eyes. "I was +truly a booby." + +"What can you mean?" she laughed. + +"There's many a slip 'twixt--lip and lip!" exclaimed Susan. + +With heightened color the young girl turned, and as she did so her +look rested on the soldier. His glance was cold, almost strange, and, +meeting it, she half-started and then smiled, slowly mounting the +stairs. He looked away, but the patroon never took his eyes from her +until she had vanished. Afar, rising and falling on the clear air, +sounded the voices of the singers: + + "Praise God from whom all blessings flow; + Praise Him all creatures here below;" + +and finally, softer and softer, until the melody melted into silence: + + "Praise Him above, ye Heavenly H-o-s-t--" + +"One good turn deserves another," said Barnes to Saint-Prosper, when +Susan and Kate had likewise retired. "Follow me, sir--to the kitchen! +No questions; but come!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A CONFERENCE IN THE KITCHEN + + +A keen observer might have noticed that the door of the inn kitchen +had been kept swinging to and fro as certain ones in the audience had +stolen cautiously, but repeatedly, in and out of the culinary +apartment while the dancing and other festivities were in progress. +The itinerant pedagogue was prominent in these mysterious movements +which possibly accounted for his white choker's being askew and his +disposition to cut a dash, not by declining Greek verbs, but by +inclining too amorously toward Miss Abigail, a maiden lady with a +pronounced aversion for frivolity. + +The cause of the schoolmaster's frolicsome deportment was apparent to +the soldier when he followed Barnes into the kitchen, where, in a +secluded corner, near the hospitable oven, in the dim light of a +tallow dip, stood a steaming punch bowl. A log smoldered in the +fireplace, casting on the floor the long shadows of the andirons, +while a swinging pot was reflected on the ceiling like a mighty +eclipse. Numerous recesses, containing pans and plates that gleamed by +day, were wrapped in vague mystery. Three dark figures around the +bowl suggested a scene of incantation, especially when one of them +threw some bark from the walnut log on the coals and the flames sprang +up as from a pine knot and the eclipse danced among the rafters +overhead while the pot swung to and fro. + +As the manager approached the bowl, the trio, moved by some vague +impelling impulse, locked arms, walked toward the side door, crossed +its threshold in some confusion, owing to a unanimous determination to +pass out at one and the same time, and went forth into the tranquil +night, leaving Barnes and Saint-Prosper the sole occupants of the +kitchen. The manager now helped himself and his companion to the +beverage, standing with his back to the tiny forks of flame from the +shagbark. His face expanded with good-fellowship; joviality shone from +his eyes beaming upon the soldier whom he unconsciously regarded as an +auxiliary. + +"Here's to our better acquaintance," he said, placing his hand with +little ceremony on the other's shoulder. "The Bill-Poster!" Raising +his cup. "You gathered them in--" + +"And you certainly gathered in the contents of their pockets!" + +"A fair robbery!" laughed Barnes, "as Dick Turpin said when he robbed +the minister who robbed the king who robbed the people! A happy +thought that, turning the helmet into a collection box! It tided us +over; it tided us over!" + +Saint-Prosper returned the manager's glance in kind; Barnes' candor +and simplicity were apparent antidotes to the other's taciturnity and +constraint. During the country dance the soldier had remained a +passive spectator, displaying little interest in the rustic +merry-making or the open glances cast upon him by bonny lasses, burned +in the sunlit fields, buxom serving maids, as clean as the pans in the +kitchen, and hearty matrons, not averse to frisk and frolic in +wholesome rural fashion. + +But now, in the face of the manager's buoyancy at the success of a +mere expedient--a hopefulness ill-warranted by his short purse and the +long future before him!--the young man's manner changed from one of +indifference to friendliness, if not sympathy, for the over-sanguine +custodian of players. Would the helmet, like the wonderful pitcher, +replenish itself as fast as it was emptied? Or was it but a +make-shift? The manager's next remark seemed a reply to these queries, +denoting that Barnes himself, although temporarily elated, was not +oblivious to the precarious character of "free performances," with +voluntary offerings. + +"What we need," continued the manager, "is a temperance drama. With +what intemperate eagerness would the people flock to see it! But where +is it to be found? Plays don't grow on bushes, even in this +agricultural district. And I have yet to discover any dramatists +hereabouts, unless"--jocularly--"you are a Tom Taylor or a Tom +Robertson in disguise. Are you sure you have never courted the divine +muse? Men of position have frequently been guilty of that folly, +sir." + +"But once," answered the other in the same tone. "At college; a +political satire." + +"Was it successful?" + +"Quite so--I was expelled for writing it!" + +"Well," retorted Barnes, irrelevantly, "you have at least mildly +coquetted with the muse. Besides, I dare say, you have been behind the +scenes a good deal. The green room is a fashionable rendezvous. Where +are you going? And what--if I may ask--is your business?" + +"I am on my way to New Orleans," said the traveler, after a moment's +hesitation. "My business, fortune-getting. In sugar, tobacco, or +indigo-culture!" + +"New Orleans!" exclaimed the manager, poising the ladle in mid air. +"That, too, is our destination. We have an engagement to play there. +Why not join our band? Write or adapt a play for us. Make a temperance +drama of your play!" + +"You are a whimsical fellow," said the stranger, smiling. "Why don't +you write the play yourself?" + +"I? An unread, illiterate dotard! Why, I never had so much as a day's +schooling. As a lad I slept with the rats, held horses, swept +crossings and lived like a mudlark! Me write a play! I might let fall +a suggestion here and there; how to set a flat, or where to drop a +fly; to plan an entrance, or to arrange an exit! No, no; let the +shoemaker stick to his last! It takes"--with deference--"a scholar to +write a drama." + +"Thus you disqualify me," laughed the other, drawing out a pipe which +he filled; and lighted with a coal held in the iron grip of the +antique tongs. "If it were only to help plant a battery or stand in a +gap!" he said grimly, replacing the tongs against the old brick oven +at one side of the grate. "But to beset King Bacchus in three acts! To +storm his castle in the first; scale the walls in the second, and blow +up all the king's horses and all the king's men in the last--that is, +indeed, serious warfare!" + +"True, it will be a roundabout way to New Orleans," continued the +manager, disregarding his companion's response, "but there is no +better way of seeing the New World--that is, if you do not disdain the +company of strolling players. You gain in knowledge what you lose in +time. If you are a philosopher, you can study human nature through the +buffoon and the mummer. If you are a naturalist, here are grand +forests to contemplate. If you are not a recluse, here is free, though +humble, comradeship." + +His listener gazed thoughtfully into the fire. Was the prospect of +sharing this gipsy-like life attractive to him? An adventurer himself, +was he drawn toward these homeless strollers, for whom the illusions +of dramatic art shone with enticing luster in the comparative solitude +of the circuit on the wilderness? + +As he sat before the glow, the light of the burning shagbark, playing +elfishly above the dying embers, outlined the stalwart, yet active +figure and the impenetrable, musing features. But when, with an upward +shower of sparks, the backlog fell asunder and the waning flame cast +yet more gloomy shadows behind them, he leaned back in his heavy, hewn +chair and again bent an attentive look upon the loquacious speaker. + +"Or, if you desire," resumed the manager after some hesitation, "it +might become a business venture as well as a pleasure jaunt. Here is a +sinking ship. Will the salvage warrant helping us into port; that is, +New Orleans? There hope tells a flattering tale. The company is well +equipped; has a varied repertoire, while Constance"--tenderly--"is a +host in herself. If you knew her as I do; had watched her art +grow"--his voice trembled--"and to think, sometimes I do not know +where the next day's sustenance may come from! That she"-- + +He broke off abruptly, gazing at his companion half-apologetically. +"We players, sir," he resumed, "present a jovial front, but"--tapping +his breast--"few know what is going on here!" + +"Therein," said the younger man, emptying his pipe, "you have stated a +universal truth." He pushed a smoldering log with his foot toward the +remnants of the embers. "Suppose I were so minded to venture"--and he +mentioned a modest sum--"in this hazard and we patched up the play +together?" + +"You don't mean it?" cried the manager, eagerly. Then he regarded the +other suspiciously: "Your proposal is not inspired through sympathy?" + +"Why not through the golden prospects you have so eloquently +depicted?" replied Saint-Prosper, coldly. + +"Why not indeed!" exclaimed the reassured manager. "Success will come; +it must come. You have seen Constance but once. She lives in every +character to her heart's core. How does she do it? Who can tell? It's +inborn. A heritage to her!" + +His voice sank low with emotion. "Yes," he murmured, shaking his head +thoughtfully, as though another image arose in his mind; "a heritage! +a divine heritage!" But soon he looked up. "She's a brave girl!" he +said. "When times were dark, she would always smile encouragingly, +and, in the light of her clear eyes, I felt anew the Lord would temper +the wind to the shorn lamb." + +"One--two--three--four," rang the great clock through the silent hall, +and, at its harsh clangor, Barnes started. + +"Bless my soul, the maids'll be up and doing and find us here!" he +exclaimed. "One last cup! To the success of the temperance drama!" + +In a few moments they had parted for their respective chambers and +only the landlord was left down-stairs. Now as he came from behind the +bar, where he had been apparently dozing and secretly listening +through the half-opened door leading into the kitchen, he had much +difficulty to restrain his laughter. + +"That's a good one to tell Ezekiel," he muttered, turning out the +lights and sweeping the ashes on the hearth to the back of the grate. +"To the temperance drama!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE DEPARTURE OF THE CHARIOT + + +Down the hill, facing the tavern, the shadows of night were slowly +withdrawn, ushering in the day of the players' leaving. A single tree, +at the very top, isolated from its sylvan neighbors, was bathed in the +warm sunshine, receiving the earliest benediction of day. Down, down, +came the dark shade, pursued by the light, until the entire slope of +the hill was radiant and the sad colored foliage flaunted in new-born +gaiety. + +Returning from the stable, where he had been looking after his horse, +the soldier stood for a moment before the inn, when a flower fell at +his feet, and, glancing over his shoulder, he perceived Susan, who was +leaning from her window. The venturesome rose, which had clambered as +high as the second story, was gone; plucked, alas, by the wayward hand +of a coquette. Saint-Prosper bowed, and stooped for the aspiring but +now hapless flower which lay in the dust. + +"You have joined the chariot, I hear?" said Susan. + +"For the present," he replied. + +"And what parts will you play?" she continued, with smiling +inquisitiveness. + +"None." + +"What a pity! You would make a handsome lover." Then she blushed. +"Lud! What am I saying? Besides"--maliciously--"I believe you have +eyes for some one else. But remember,"--shaking her finger and with a +coquettish turn of the head--"I am an actress and therefore vain. I +must have the best part in the new piece. Don't forget that, or I'll +not travel in the same chariot with you." And Susan disappeared. + +"Ah, Kate," she said, a moment later, "what a fine-looking young man +he is!" + +"Who?" drawled her sister. + +"Mr. Saint-Prosper, of course." + +"He is large enough," retorted Kate, leisurely. + +"Large enough! O, Kate, what a phlegmatic creature you are!" + +"Fudge!" said the other as she left the chamber. + +Entering the tavern, the soldier was met by the wiry old lady who +bobbed into the breakfast room and explained the kind of part that +fitted her like a glove, her prejudices being strong against modern +plays. + +"Give me dramas like 'Oriana,' 'The Rival Queens' or Webster's +pieces," she exclaimed, quoting with much fire for her years: + + "'We are only like dead walls or vaulted graves!'" + +"And do not forget the 'heavy' in your piece!" called out Hawkes +across the table. "Something you can dig your teeth in!" + +"Nor the 'juvenile lead,'" chimed in the Celtic Adonis. + +"Adonis makes a great hit in a small part," laughed Kate, appearing at +the door. "'My lord, the carriage is waiting!'" + +"My lady, your tongue is too sharp!" exclaimed Adonis, nettled. + +"And put in a love scene for Adonis and myself," she continued, lazily +floating into the room. "He is so fond of me, it would not be like +acting!" + +This bantering was at length interrupted by the appearance of the +chariot and the property wagon at the front door, ready for the +journey. The rumbling of the vehicles, the resounding hoofs and the +resonant voice of the stable boy awakened the young lord of the manor +in his chamber above. He stretched himself sleepily, swore and again +composed himself for slumber, when the noise of a property trunk, +thumping its way down the front stairs a step at a time, galvanized +him into life and consciousness. + +"Has the world come to an end?" he muttered. "No; I remember; it's +only the players taking their departure!" + +But, although he spoke carelessly, the bumping of boxes and slamming +and banging of portable goods annoyed him more than he would confess. +With the "crazy-quilt"--a patch-work of heptagons of different hues +and patterns--around his shoulders, clothing him with all the colors +of the rainbow, he sat up in bed, wincing at each concussion. + +"I might as well get up!" he exclaimed. "I'll see her once more--the +perverse beauty!" And tossing the kaleidoscopic covering viciously +from him, he began to dress. + +Meanwhile, as the time for their going drew near, mine host +down-stairs sped the parting guest with good cheer, having fared +profitably by the patronage the players had brought to the inn; but +his daughter, Arabella, looked sad and pensive. How weary, flat and +stale appeared her existence now! With a lump in her throat and a pang +in her heart, she recklessly wiped her eyes upon the best parlor +curtains, when Barnes mounted to the box, as robust a stage-driver as +ever extricated a coach from a quagmire. The team, playful through +long confinement, tugged at the reins, and Sandy, who was at the bits, +occasionally shot through space like an erratic meteor. + +The manager was flourishing his whip impatiently when Constance and +Susan appeared, the former in a traveling costume of blue silk; a +paletot of dark cloth, and, after the fashion of the day, a bonnet of +satin and velvet. Susan was attired in a jupe sweeping and immensely +full--to be in style!--and jacquette with sleeves of the pagoda form. +The party seemed in high spirits, as from his dormer window Mauville, +adjusting his attire, peered through the lattice over the edge of the +moss-grown roof and leaf-clogged gutters and surveyed their +preparations for departure. How well the rich color of her gown +became the young girl! He had told himself white was her best +adornment, but his opinion veered on the moment now, and he thought he +had never seen her to better advantage, with the blue of her dress +reappearing in the lighter shade, above the dark paletot, in the +lining of the bonnet and the bow of ribbons beneath her chin. + +"On my word, but she looks handsome!" muttered the patroon. "Might sit +for a Gainsborough or a Reynolds! What dignity! What coldness! All +except the eyes! How they can lighten! But there's that adventurer +with her," as the figure of the soldier crossed the yard to the +property wagon. "No getting rid of him until the last moment!" And he +opened the shutters wider, listening and watching more closely. + +"Are you going to ride in the property wagon?" he heard Saint-Prosper +ask. + +"Yes; when I have a part to study I sometimes retire to the stage +throne," she answered lightly. "I suppose you will ride your horse?" + +Of his reply the listener caught only the words, "wind-break" and +"lame." He observed the soldier assist her to the throne, and then, to +Mauville's surprise, spring into the wagon himself. + +"Why, the fellow is going with them!" exclaimed the land baron. "Or, +at any rate, he is going with her. What can it mean?" And hurriedly +quitting his post, his toilet now being complete, he hastened to the +door and quickly made his way down-stairs. + +During the past week his own addresses had miscarried and his +gallantry had been love's labor lost. At first he had fancied he +was making progress, but soon acknowledged to himself he had +underestimated the enterprise. Play had succeeded play--he could not +have told what part favored her most! Ophelia sighed and died; Susan +danced on her grave between acts, according to the program, and +turned tears into smiles; the farewell night had come and gone--and +yet Constance had made no sign of compliance to reward the patient +wooer. Now, at the sight of these preparations for departure, and +the presence of the stalwart stranger in the property wagon, he +experienced a sudden sensation of pique, almost akin to jealousy. + +Stepping from the tavern, it was with an effort he suppressed his +chagrin and vexation and assumed that air of nonchalance which became +him well. Smilingly he bade Susan and the other occupants of the +chariot farewell, shook Barnes by the hand, and turned to the property +wagon. + +"The noise of your departure awakened me," he said to the young girl. +"So I have come to claim my compensation--the pleasure of seeing +you--" + +"Depart!" she laughed quickly. + +Momentarily disconcerted, he turned to the soldier. "You ride early." + +"As you see," returned the other, immovably. + +"A habit contracted in the army, no doubt!" retorted Mauville, +recovering his easy self-possession. "Well, a bumping trunk is as +efficacious as a bugle call! But _au revoir_, Miss Carew; for we may +meet again. The world is broad--yet its highways are narrow! There is +no need wishing you a pleasant journey." + +His glance rested on Saint-Prosper for a moment, but told nothing +beyond the slight touch of irony in his words and then shifting to the +young girl, it lingered upon each detail of costume and outline of +feature. Before she could reply, Barnes cracked his whip, the horses +sprang forward, and the stable boy, a confused tangle of legs and +arms, was shot as from a catapult among the sweet-williams. The abrupt +departure of the chariot was the cue for the property wagon, which +followed with some labor and jolting, like a convoy struggling in the +wake of a pretentious ship. From the door Mauville watched it until it +reached a toll-gate, passed beneath the portcullis and disappeared +into the broad province of the wilderness. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SOJOURNING IN ARCADIA + + +Calm and still was the morning; the wandering air just stirred the +pendulous branches of the elms and maples, and, in the clear +atmosphere, the russet hills were sharply outlined. As they swung out +into the road, with Hans, the musician, at the reins, the young girl +removed her bonnet and leaned back in the chair of state, where kings +had fretted and queens had lolled. + +The throne, imposing on the stage, now appeared but a flimsy article +of furniture, with frayed and torn upholstering, and carving which had +long since lost its gilded magnificence. Seated amid the jumble of +theatrical appliances and accoutrements--scenery, rolled up +rug-fashion, property trunks, stage clock, lamps and draperies--she +accepted the situation gracefully, even finding nothing strange in the +presence of the soldier. New faces had come and gone in the company +before, and, when Barnes had complacently informed her Saint-Prosper +would journey with the players to New Orleans in a semi-business +capacity, the arrangement appeared conformable to precedent. The +manager's satisfaction augured well for the importance of the +semi-business role assumed by the stranger, and Barnes' friendliness +was perhaps in some degree unconsciously reflected in her manner; an +attitude the soldier's own reserve, or taciturnity, had not tended to +dispel. So, his being in the property wagon seemed no more singular +than Hans' occupancy of the front seat, or if Adonis, Hawkes, or Susan +had been there with her. She was accustomed to free and easy +comradeship; indeed, knew no other life, and it was only assiduous +attentions, like those of the land baron's, that startled and +disquieted her. + +As comfortably as might be, she settled back in the capacious, +threadbare throne, a slender figure in its depths--more adapted to +accommodate a corpulent Henry VIII!--and smiled gaily, as the wagon, +in avoiding one rut, ran into another and lurched somewhat violently. +Saint-Prosper, lodged on a neighboring trunk, quickly extended a +steadying hand. + +"You see how precarious thrones are!" he said. + +"There isn't room for it to more than totter," she replied lightly, +removing her bonnet and lazily swinging it from the arm of the chair. + +"Then it's safer than real thrones," he answered, watching the swaying +bonnet, or perhaps, contrasting the muscular, bronzed hand he had +placed on the chair with the smooth, white one which held the blue +ribbons; a small, though firm, hand to grapple with the minotaur, +Life! + +She slowly wound the ribbons around her fingers. + +"Oh, you mean France," she said, and he looked away with sudden +disquietude. "Poor monarchs! Their road is rougher than this one." + +"Rougher truly!" + +"You love France?" she asked suddenly, after studying, with secret, +sidelong glances his reserved, impenetrable face. + +His gaze returned to her--to the bonnet now resting in her lap--to the +hand beside it. + +"It is my native land," he replied. + +"Then why did you leave it--in its trouble?" she asked impulsively. + +"Why?" he repeated, regarding her keenly; but in a moment he added: +"For several reasons. I returned from Africa, from serving under +Bugeaud, to find the red flag waving in Paris; the king fled!" + +"Oh," she said, quickly, "a king should--" + +"What?" he asked, as she paused. + +"I was going to say it was better to die like a king than--" + +"Than live an outcast!" he concluded for her, a shadow on his brow. + +She nodded. "At any rate, that is the way they always do in the +plays," she added brightly. "But you were saying you found your real +king fled?" + +His heavy brows contracted, though he answered readily enough: "Yes, +the king had fled. A kinsman in whose house I had been reared then +bade me head a movement for the restoration of the royal fugitive. For +what object? The regency was doomed. The king, a May-fly!" + +"And so you refused?" + +"We quarreled; he swore like a Gascon. His little puppet should yet +sit in the chair where Louis XIV had lorded it! I, who owed my +commission to his noble name, was a republican, a deserter! The best +way out of the difficulty was out of the country. First it was +England, then it was here. To-morrow--where?" he added, in a lower +tone, half to himself. + +"Where?" she repeated, lightly. "That is our case, too." + +He looked at her with sudden interest. "Yours is an eventful life, +Miss Carew." + +"I have never known any other," she said, simply, adding after a +pause: "My earliest recollections are associated with my mother and +the stage. As a child I watched her from the wings. I remember a grand +voice and majestic presence. When the audience broke into applause, my +heart throbbed with pride." + +But as her thoughts reverted to times past, the touch of melancholy, +invoked by the memory of her mother, was gradually dispelled, as fancy +conjured other scenes, and a flickering smile hovered over the lips +whose parting displaced that graver mood. + +"Once or twice I played with her, too," she added. "I thought it nice +to be one of the little princes in Richard III and wear white satin +clothes. One night after the play an old gentleman took me on his knee +and said: I had to come, my child, and see if the wicked old uncle +hadn't really smothered you!' When he had gone, my mother told me he +was Mr. Washington Irving. I thought him very kind, for he brought me +a bag of bonbons from the coffee-room." + +"It's the first time I ever heard of a great critic laden with +sweetmeats!" said the soldier. "And were you not flattered by his +honeyed regard?" + +"Oh, yes; I devoured it and wanted more," she laughed. + +Hans' flourishing whip put an end to further conversation. "Der stage +goach!" he said, turning a lumpish countenance upon them and pointing +down the road. + +Approaching at a lively gait was one of the coaches of the regular +line, a vehicle of ancient type, hung on bands of leather and +curtained with painted canvas, not unlike the typical French +diligence, except for its absence of springs. The stage was +spattered with mud from roof to wheel-tire, but as the mire was not +fresh and the road fair, the presumption followed that custom and +practice precluded the cleaning of the coach. The passengers, among +whom were several ladies, wearing coquettish bonnets with ribbons +or beau-catchers attached, were too weary even to view with wonder +the odd-looking theatrical caravan. Only the driver, a diminutive +person with puckered face the color of dried apples, so venerable +as to be known as Old Hundred, seemed as spry and cheery as when +he started. + +"Morning," he said, briskly, drawing in his horses. "Come back, have +ye, with yer troupe? What's the neuws from Alban-y?" + +"Nothing, except Texas has been admitted as a State," answered +Barnes. + +"Sho! We air coming on!" commented the Methuselah of the road. + +"Coming on!" groaned a voice in the vehicle, and the florid face of an +English traveler appeared at the door. "I say, do you call this +'coming on!' I'm nearly gone, don't you know!" + +"Hi!--ge' long!--steady there!" And Old Hundred again whipped up his +team, precipitating a lady into the lap of the gentleman who was +"nearly gone," and well-nigh completing his annihilation. + +In less time than when a friendly sail is lost in the mist, Old +Hundred's bulky land-wherry passed from view, and the soldier again +turned to his companion. But she was now intent on some part in a play +which she was quietly studying and he contented himself with lighting +that staple luxury of the early commonwealth, a Virginia stogie, +observing her from time to time over the glowing end. With the book +upon her knee, her head downcast and partly turned from him, he could, +nevertheless, through the mazy convolutions and dreamy spirals of the +Indian weed, detect the changing emotions which swept over her, as in +fancy she assumed a role in the drama. Now the faintest shadow of a +smile, coming and going; again beneath the curve of her long lashes, a +softer gleaming in the dark eyes, adding new charm to the pale, proud +face. Around them nature seemed fraught with forgetfulness; the Libyan +peace that knows not where or wherefore. Rocked in the cradle of ruts +and furrows, Hans, portly as a carboy, half-dozed on the front seat. + +Shortly before noon they approached an ancient hostelry, set well back +from the road. To the manager's dismay, however, the door was locked +and boards were nailed across the windows. Even the water pail, +hospitably placed for man or beast, had been removed from its +customary proximity to the wooden pump. Abandoned to decay, the +tenantless inn was but another evidence of traffic diverted from the +old stage roads by the Erie Canal Company. Cold was the fireplace +before which had once rested the sheep-skin slippers for the guests; +empty was the larder where at this season was wont to be game in +abundance, sweet corn, luscious melons--the trophies of the hunt, the +fruits of the field; missing the neat, compact little keg whose spigot +had run with consolation for the wanderer! + +Confronted by the deserted house, where they had expected convivial +cheer, there was no alternative but to proceed, and their journey was +resumed with some discomfiture to the occupants of the coach which now +labored like a portly Spanish galleon, struck by a squall. They had +advanced in this manner for some distance through furrow and groove, +when the vehicle gave a sharper lurch down a deeper rut; a crash was +followed by cries of affright and the chariot abruptly settled on one +side. Barnes held the plunging horses in control, while the gentlemen +scrambled to the ground and assisted the ladies to dismount. + +"Any one hurt?" asked the manager from his box. + +"No damage done--except to the coach," said Hawkes. + +By this time the horses had become quiet and Barnes, now that the +passengers were rescued, like a good skipper, left the quarter deck. + +"We couldn't have chosen a better place for our lunch," he remarked +philosophically. "How fortunate we should have broken down where we +did!" + +"Very fortunate!" echoed the old lady ironically. + +The accident had happened upon a slight plateau, of which they +accordingly took possession, tethering the horses to graze. From the +branches overhead the squirrels surveyed them as if asking what manner +of people were these, and the busy woodpecker ceased his drumming, +cocking his head inquisitively at the intruders; then shyly drew away, +mounting spirally the trunk of the tree to the hole, chiseled by his +strong beak for a nest. As Barnes gazed around upon the pleasing +prospect, he straightway became the duke in the comedy of the forest. + +"Ha, my brothers in exile," he exclaimed, "are not these woods more +free from peril than the envious court?" + +"All it wants," said the tragedian, hungrily, "is mutton, greens and a +foaming pot." + +"I can't promise the foaming pot," answered the manager. "But, at +least, we have a well-filled hamper." + +Soon the coffee was simmering and such viands as they had brought with +them--for Barnes was a far-sighted and provident manager--were spread +out in tempting profusion. Near them a swift-flowing stream chattered +about the stones like one of nature's busiest gossips; it whispered to +the flowers, murmured to the rushes and was voluble to the overhanging +branch that dragged upon the surface of the water. The flowers on its +brim nodded, the rushes waved and the branch bent as if in assent to +the mad gossip of the blithesome brook. And it seemed as though all +this animated conversation was caused by the encampment of the band of +players by the wayside. + +The repast finished, they turned their attention to the injured +chariot, but fortunately the damage was not beyond repair, and Barnes, +actor, manager, bill-poster, license-procurer, added to his already +extensive repertoire the part of joiner and wheelwright. The skilled +artisans in coachmaking and coach-repairing might not have regarded +the manager as a master-workman, but the fractured parts were finally +set after a fashion. By that time, however, the sun had sunk to rest +upon a pillow of clouds; the squirrels, law-abiding citizens, had +sought their homes; the woodpecker had vanished in his snug chamber, +and only forest dwellers of nocturnal habits were now abroad, their +name legion like the gad-abouts of a populous city. + +"There!" exclaimed the manager, surveying his handiwork. "The 'bus is +ready! But there is little use going on to-night. I am not sure of the +road and here is a likely spot to pass the night." + +"Likely to be devoured by wild beasts," said Kate, with a shudder. + +"I am sure I see two glistening eyes!" exclaimed Susan. + +"Fudge!" observed the elastic old lady. "That's the first time you +have been afraid of two-glistening eyes." + +"There's a vast difference between wolves and men," murmured Susan. + +"I'm not so sure of that," returned the aged cynic. + +But as the light of day was withdrawn a great fire sprang up, +illumining the immediate foreground. The flames were cheering, drawing +the party more closely together. Even Hawkes partly discarded his +tragedy face; the old lady threw a bundle of fifty odd years from her +shoulders as easily as a wood-carrier would cast aside his miserable +stack of fagots, while Barnes forgot his troubles in narrating the +harrowing experience of a company which had penetrated the west at a +period antedating the settlement of the Michigan and Ohio boundary +dispute. + +The soldier alone was silent, curiously watching the play of light and +shade on the faces of the strollers, his gaze resting longest, +perhaps, on the features of the young girl. Leaning against an ancient +oak, so old the heart of it was gone and it towered but a mighty +shell, the slender figure of the actress was clearly outlined, but +against that dark and roughly-furrowed background she seemed too +slight and delicate to buffet with storms and hardships. That day's +experience was a forerunner of the unexpected in this wandering life, +but another time the mishap might not be turned to diversion. The +coach would not always traverse sunny byways; the dry leaf floating +from the majestic arm of the oak, the sound of an acorn as it struck +the earth presaged days less halcyon to come. + +"How do you enjoy being a stroller?" asked a voice, interrupting the +soldier's reverie. "It has its bitters and its sweets, hasn't it? +Especially its sweets!" Susan added, glancing meaningly at the young +girl. "But after all, it doesn't much matter what happens to you if +you are in good company." The semi-gloom permitted her to gaze +steadfastly into his eyes. He ignored the opportunity for a +compliment, and Susan stifled a little yawn, real or imaginary. + +"Positively one could die of _ennui_ in this wilderness," she +continued. "Do you know you are a welcome addition to our band? But you +will have to make yourself very agreeable. I suppose"--archly--"you +_were_ very agreeable in the property wagon?" + +"Miss Carew had a part to study," he returned, coldly. + +"A part to study!" In mock consternation. "How I hate studying parts! +They say what you wouldn't, and don't say what you would! But I'm off +to bed," rising impatiently. "I'm getting sleepy!" + +"Sleepy!" echoed Barnes. "Take your choice! The Hotel du +Omnibus"--indicating the chariot--"or the Villa Italienne?"--with a +gesture toward a tent made of the drop curtain upon the walls of which +was the picture of an Italian scene. + +"The chariot for me," answered Susan. "It is more high and dry and +does not suggest spiders and other crawling things." + +"Good-night, then, and remember a good conscience makes a hard bed +soft." + +"Then I shall sleep on down. I haven't had a chance"--with a sigh--"to +damage my conscience lately. But when I strike civilization +again"--and Susan shook her head eloquently to conclude her sentence. +"Oh, yes; if beds depend on conscience, boughs would be feathers for +me to-night." With which half-laughing, half-defiant conclusion, Susan +tripped to the chariot, pausing a moment, however, to cast a +reproachful glance over her shoulder at Saint-Prosper before vanishing +in the cavernous depths of the vehicle of the muses. + +Her departure was the signal for the dispersing of the party to their +respective couches. Now the fire sank lower, the stars came out +brighter and the moon arose and traveled majestically up the heavens, +taking a brief but comprehensive survey of the habitations of mortals, +and then, as if satisfied with her scrutiny, sailed back to the +horizon and dropped out of sight. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +FLIPPING THE SHILLING + + +Shortly after the departure of the strolling players from the tavern, +Mauville summoned his servant and ordered his equipage. While waiting +he strode impatiently to and fro in the dining-room, which, dismantled +of the stage, by very contrast to the temporary temple of art, turned +his thoughts to the players. The barrenness of the room smote him +acutely with the memory of those performances, and he laughed +ironically to himself that he should thus revert to them. But as he +scoffed inwardly, his eyes gleamed with vivacity, and the sensations +with which he had viewed the young girl night after night were +reawakened. What was one woman lost to him, his egotism whispered; he +had parted from many, as a gourmand leaves one meal for another. Yes; +but she had not been his, insinuated vanity; another had whipped her +off before his eyes. + +"Why the devil didn't you tell me he was going with them?" he demanded +of the landlord while settling his account. + +"He--who?" asked the surprised inn-keeper. + +"That adventurer you have been harboring here. How far's he going with +them?" + +"I don't know. The night after the performance I heard the manager ask +him to join the company; to write a temperance play." + +"Temperance play!" sneered Mauville. "The fool's gone with them on +account of a woman." + +"I did think he was mighty attentive to one of the actresses," said +the landlord, reflectively. "The one with them melting eyes. Purty +good-looking! Quiet and lady-like, too! So he's gallivanting after +her? Well, well, I guess actresses be all alike." + +"I guess they are," added the heir savagely. "And this one took me +in," he thought to himself. "Holding me off and playing with him, the +jade!" Then he continued aloud: "Where are they going?" + +"Didn't hear 'em say," answered the other, "and I didn't like to +appear too curious." + +"You didn't?" returned Mauville, ironically. "You must have changed +lately." + +"I don't know as I understand you quite," replied the landlord with +sudden dignity. "But here's your carriage and your things are all on. +I guess your tenants will be glad to see you," he continued, not +resisting a parting shot. + +"Curse the tenants!" muttered the guest in ill-humor, as he strode +from the tavern without more ado. + +He was soon on his way, partly forgetting his vexation in new +anticipations, and traveling with spirit to his destination, which he +reached late that afternoon. The residence of the old patroons, a +lordly manor where once lavish hospitality had been displayed, was +approached through great gates of hammered iron in which the family +arms were interwoven, leading into a fine avenue of trees. The +branches of the more majestic met overhead, forming a sylvan arch that +almost obscured the blue sky by day and the stars by night. Gazing +through this vista, a stately portico appeared, with Corinthian +columns, affording an inviting termination of the view. The grounds +bore evidence of neglect in the grass growing knee-high and rank with +weeds; the flower beds almost obliterated; a corn-crib sunk to one +side like a quadruped gone weak-kneed; and the stream that struggled +vainly through the leaves and rubbish barring its passage across the +estate. The fence resembled the "company front" of an awkward squad, +each picket being more or less independent of its neighbor, with here +and there a break or gap in the ranks. + +Passing through the leafy archway over a noiseless road and drawing +near the manor, the heir could see that the broad windows, with their +quaint squares of glass, were unwashed, the portico unswept and the +brass finishings of the front door unpolished. At the right of the +steps leading to the portico, moss-covered and almost concealed by a +rose-bush, stood a huge block of granite upon which rested the +"lifting-stone," as it was called, of one of the early masters. This +not inconsiderable weight the new retainers had been required to lift +in days of old, or failing, the patroon would have none of their +services, for he wanted only lusty, broad-backed varlets for farmers +or--when need were--soldiers. + +In answer to repeated summons from the ponderous knocker, shuffling +footsteps were finally heard within, the door was opened a few inches +and the gleaming teeth of a great, gaunt dog were thrust into the +opening, followed by an ominous growling. Mauville sprang back a step; +the snarling resolved itself into a yelp, as some one unceremoniously +dragged the canine back; the door was opened wider and a brawny +figure, smoking a long-stemmed pipe, barred the way. The dog, but +partly appeased, peered from behind the man's sturdy legs, awaiting +hostilities. The latter, an imperturbable Dutchman, eyed the intruder +askance, smoking as impassively in his face as one of his ancestors +before William the Testy. From his point of vantage on the threshold +the care-taker looked down upon the master so indifferently, while the +dog glared so viciously that the land baron cried angrily: + +"Why the devil don't you get out of the way and call off that beast?" + +The man pondered. "No one but the heir would give orders like that," +he said, so accustomed to speaking his thoughts in the solitude of the +great rooms, that he gave way to the habit now. "This must be the +heir." + +Slowly the care-taker moved aside, the hound shifting his position +accordingly, and Mauville entered, gazing around with some interest, +for the interior of the manor realized the pretensions of its outward +aspect. The floor of the hall was of satinwood and rosewood, and the +mahogany wainscoting, extending almost to the ceiling, was black with +age. With its rich carvings, the stairway suggested woody rioting in +balustrades lifting up to the support of the heavy beams in the +ceiling. The furnishings were in keeping, but dust obscured the +mirror-like surface of the mahogany tables, the heavy draperies were +in need of renovation, while a housewife would have viewed with +despair the condition of brass and ebony inlaid cabinets, ancient +tapestries, and pictures, well-nigh defaced, but worthy, even in their +faded aspect, of the brush of Sir Godfrey Kneller, Benjamin West and +the elder Peale. + +Having casually surveyed his new home, the heir was reminded of the +need for refreshment after his long journey, and, turning to the +care-taker, asked him what there was in the house? The servant smoked +silently as though deeply considering this momentous question, while +the rear guard maintained unabated hostility between the man's +firmly-planted feet. Then abruptly, without removing his pipe, the +guardian of the manor ejaculated: + +"Short-cakes and oly-koeks." + +The other laughed, struck his knee with his light cane and demanded to +be shown to the library, where he would have these outlandish dishes +served. + +"And bring with them, Mynheer Oly-koeks, a bottle of wine," he +continued. "At the same time, chain up the dog. He eyes me with such +hungry hostility that, gad! I believe he's an anti-renter!" + +Mauville was ushered into a large room, where great leather-bound +volumes filled the oak shelves to the ceiling. The care-taker turned, +and, with echoing footsteps, slowly departed, followed by his faithful +four-footed retainer. It is true the latter paused, swung half-around +and regarded the land-owner with the look of a sulky and rebellious +tenant, but, summoned by a stern "Oloffe!" from his master, the dog +reluctantly pattered across the hard-wood floor. + +In surveying his surroundings, the land baron's attention was +attracted by a coat-of-arms deeply carved in the massive wood of the +book-case--on a saltire sable, a fleur-de-lys or. This head of +heraldic flowers appeared to interest Mauville, who smiled grimly. +"From what I know of my worthy ancestors," he muttered, "and their +propensities to prey on their fellow-men, I should say a more fitting +device would be that of Lovett of Astwell: Gules, three wolves passant +sable, in pale." + +Pleased with his own humor, he threw himself upon a couch near the +window, stretching himself luxuriously. Soon the man reappeared with +the refreshments and a bottle of old-fashioned, substantial girth, +which he uncorked with marked solicitude. + +"Where are the oly-koeks?" exclaimed the heir. + +The watchman pointed to a great dish of dark blue willow-ware +pattern. + +"Oh, doughnuts!" said Mauville. "You know where the family lawyer +lives? Have my man drive you to his house and bring him here at +once." + +As the care-taker again disappeared the heir bent over the curiously +shaped bottle in delight, for when the cork was drawn a fragrance +filled the musty apartment as from a bouquet. + +"Blessings on the ancestor who laid down this wine!" he muttered. +"May his ghost wander in to sniff it! These oly-koeks are not bad. +I suppose this man, Ten Breecheses, or whatever he is called, is at +once cook and housekeeper. Although I don't think much of his +housekeeping," ruminated Mauville, as he observed a herculean spider +weaving a web from an old volume of Giraldus Cambrensis, antiquary, +to the classical works of one Joseph of Exeter. There is a strong +sympathy between wine and cobwebs, and Mauville watched with +increasing interest the uses to which these ponderous tomes had +sunk--but serving the bloodthirsty purpose of the nimble architect, +evolving its delicate engineering problem in mid air. + +A great blundering fly had just bobbed into the net and the spider, +with hideous, carnivorous zest, was scrambling for it, when the +guardian of the manor returned with the family solicitor, a little man +who bore in his arms a bundle of papers which, after the customary +greetings, he spread upon the table. He helped himself to a glass of +burgundy and proceeded forthwith to enter into the history of his +trust. + +Mynheer, the patroon, Mauville's predecessor, a lonely, arrogant man, +had held tenaciously to the immense tracts of land acquired in the +colonial days by nominal purchase. He had never married, his desire +for an heir being discounted by his aversion for the other sex, until +as the days dragged on, he found himself bed-ridden and childless in +his old age. Unfortunately the miser can not take his acres into +Paradise, and the patroon, with many an inward groan, cast about him +for some remote relative to whom he would reluctantly transfer his +earthly hereditaments. These were two: one a man of piety, who prayed +with the tenants when they complained of their lot; the other, +Mauville, upon whom he had never set eyes. + +When the earliest patroons had made known to the West India Company +their intention of planting colonies in New Netherland, they had +issued attractive maps to promote their colonization projects. Among +those who had been lured to America by these enticing advertisements +was an ancestor of Edward Mauville. Incurring the displeasure of the +governor for his godless views, this Frenchman was sent to the +pillory, or whipping post, and his neighbors were about to cast out +the devil of irreverence in good old-fashioned manner, when one of +Mynheer's daughters interceded, carried off the handsome miscreant, +and--such was her imperious way!--married him! He was heard in after +years to aver that the whipping would have been the milder punishment, +but, be that as it may, a child was born unto them who inherited the +father's adventuresome and graceless character, deserted his home, +joined hands with some ocean-rovers and sailed for that pasture-ground +of buccaneers, the Caribbean sea. Of his subsequent history various +stories may be found in the chronicles of New Orleans and Louisiana. + +The only other person who might have any pretensions to the estate was +a reverend gentleman who had been a missionary among the Indians, +preaching from a stump, and called "Little Thunder" by the red men +because of his powerful voice; a lineal descendant of the Rev. Doctor +Johannes Vanderklonk, the first dominie of the patroons, who served +for one thousand guilders, payable in meat or drink, twenty-two +bushels of wheat and two firkins of butter. He saved the souls of the +savages, while the white men cheated their bodies. Now and then, in +those early days, the children of the forest protested against this +evangelizing process and carried off the good dominie to the torture +stake, where they plucked out his finger nails; but he returned with +as much zest to his task of landing these simple souls in Paradise as +those who employed him displayed in making an earthly Paradise out of +the lands the red men left behind them. + +When by this shrewd system the savages were gradually saved, and +incidentally exterminated, Little Thunder's occupation was gone and he +became a pensioner of Mynheer the Patroon, earning his bread by an +occasional sermon to the tenants, exhorting them to thrift and +industry, to be faithful and multiply, and to pay their rents +promptly. As Mynheer's time drew near he sent for his attorney and +commanded him to look up the life, deeds and character of Edward +Mauville. + +"This I did," said the lawyer, "and here it is." Waving a roll of +papers before his interested listener. + +"A nauseating mess, no doubt," carelessly remarked the land baron. + +"Oh, sir!" deprecated the lawyer, opening the roll. "'Item: Religion; +pupil of the brilliant Jesuit, Abbe Moneau. Item: Morals; Exhibit A, +the affair with Countess ---- in Paris, where he was sent to be +educated after the fashion of French families in New Orleans; Exhibit +B--'" + +"Spare me," exclaimed Mauville. "Life is wearisome enough, but a +biography--" He shrugged his shoulders. "Come to your point." + +"Of course, sir, I was only trying to carry out his instructions. The +same, sir, as I would carry out yours!" With an ingratiating smile. +Whereupon the attorney told how he had furnished the patroon this roll +and fastened it to his bed, so that he might wind and unwind it, +perusing it at his pleasure. This the dying man did, sternly noting +the damaging facts; thinking doubtlessly how traits will endure for +generations--aye, for ages, in spite of the pillory!--the while Little +Thunder was roaring petitions to divinity by his bedside, as though to +bluster and bully the Almighty into granting his supplications. The +patroon glanced from his pensioner to the roll; from the kneeling man +to that prodigious list of peccadillos, and then he called for a +shilling, a coin still somewhat in use in America. This he flipped +thrice. + +"_Roue_ or sham," he said the first time. + +"Rake or hypocrite," he exclaimed the second time. + +"Devil or Pharisee," he cried the third time. + +He peered over the coin and sent for his attorney. His soul passed +away, mourned by Little Thunder until the will was read, when his +lamentations ceased; he soundly berated Mynheer, the Patroon, in his +coffin and refused to go to his burying. Then he became an ardent +anti-renter, a leader of "bolters," a thunderer of the people's cause, +the devoted enemy of land barons in general, and one patroon in +particular, the foreign heir of the manor. + +"But let him thunder away, sir," said Scroggs, soothingly. "The +estate's yours now, for the old patroon can't come back to change his +mind. He's buried sure enough in the grove, a dark and sombrous spot +as befitted his disposition, but restful withal. Aye, and the marble +slab's above him, which reminds me that only a month before he took to +his bed he was smoking his pipe on the porch, when his glance fell +upon the lifting-stone. Suddenly he strode towards it, bent his back +and raised it a full two inches. 'So much for age!' said he, +scoffing-like. But age heard him and now he lies with a stone on him +he can not lift, while you, sir"--to his listener, deferentially--"are +sole heir to the estate and to the feud." + +"A feud goes with the property?" remarked Mauville carelessly. + +"The tenants object to paying rent," replied Scroggs, sadly. "They're +a sorry lot!" + +"Evade their debts, do they?" said the land baron languidly. "What +presumption to imitate their betters! That won't do; I need the +money." + +"They claim the rights of the landlord originated in fraud--" + +"No doubt!" Yawning. "My ancestors were rogues!" + +"Oh, sir"--deprecatorily. + +"If the tenants don't pay, turn them out," interrupted Mauville, +listlessly, "if you have to depopulate the country." + +Having come to an understanding with his client, the lawyer arose to +take his departure. + +"By the way," he said, obsequiously, selecting a yellow, well-worn bit +of paper from his bundle of documents, "it may interest you to keep +this yourself. It is the original deed for all these lands from the +squaw Pewasch. You can see they were acquired for a few shillings' +worth of 'wet and dry goods' and seventeen and a half ells of +duffels." + +"The old patroons could strike a rare bargain," muttered the heir, as +he casually surveyed the ancient deed, and then, folding it, placed it +in his breast pocket. "For a mere song was acquired--" + +"A vast principality," added the solicitor, waving his hand toward the +fields and meadows far in the distance. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SAMPLING THE VINTAGES + + +Having started the wheels of justice fairly moving, with Scroggs at +the throttle, the new land baron soon discovered that he was not in +consonance with the great commoner who said he was savage enough to +prefer the woods and wilds of Monticello to all the pleasures of +Paris. In other words, those rural delights of his forefathers, the +pleasures of a closer intimacy with nature, awoke no responsive chord +in Mauville's breast, and he began to tire before long of a +patriarchal existence and crullers and oly-koeks and playing the fine +lord in solitary grandeur. + +The very extent of the deserted manor carried an overwhelming sense of +loneliness, especially at this season when nature was dying and +triumphal tints of decay were replacing the vernal freshness of the +forests, flaunting gaudy vestments that could not, however, conceal +the sadness of the transition. The days were growing shorter and the +leaden-colored vapors, driven by the whip of that taskmaster, the +wind, replaced the snow-white clouds becalmed in the tender depths of +ether. Soon would the hoar frost crystallize on grass and fence, or +the autumn rains descend, dripping mournfully from the water spouts +and bubbling over the tubs. Already the character of the dawn was +changed to an almost sullen awakening of the day, denoting a seeming +uneasiness of the hidden forces, while an angry passing of the glowing +orb replaced the Paphian sunset. + +In nook and cranny, through the balustrades and woody screens of the +ancient house, penetrated the wandering currents of air. The draperies +waved mysteriously, as by a hidden hand, and, at nightfall, the floor +of satin and rosewood creaked ominously as if beneath the restless +footsteps of former inmates, moving from the somber hangings of the +windows to the pearl-inlaid harpsichord whose melody was gone, and +thence up the broad staircase, pausing naturally at the landing, +beneath which had assembled gay gatherings in the colonial days. And +such a heedless phantom group--fine gentlemen in embroidered coats, +bright breeches, silk stockings and peruke, and, peeping through +ethereal lace wristbands, a white hand fit for no sterner toil than to +flourish with airy grace a gold-headed cane; ladies with gleaming bare +shoulders, dressed in "cumbrous silk that with its rustling made proud +the flesh that bore it!" The imaginative listener could almost +distinguish these footfalls, as the blind will recognize the tread of +an unseen person. + +To further add to the land baron's dissatisfaction over his heritage, +"rent-day"--that all-important day in the olden times; when my lord's +door had been besieged by the willing lease-holders, cheerful in +rendering unto Caesar what was due Caesar!--seemed to have been +dropped from the modern calendar, as many an ancient holiday has +gradually been lost in the whirligig of time. No long procession now +awaited the patroon's pleasure, when it should suit him to receive the +tribute of guilders, corn or meal; the day might have been as obsolete +as an Hellenic festival day to Zeus, for all the observance it was +accorded. + +"Your notices, Scroggs, were wasted on the desert air," said the +patroon, grimly, to that disappointed worthy. "What's the use of +tenants who don't pay? Playing at feudal lord in modern times is a +farce, Scroggs. I wish we had lived about four hundred years ago." + +"Yes, if four hundred years ago were now," assented the parasite, "I'd +begin with Dick, the tollman! He's a regular Goliath and,"--his face +becoming purple--"when I threatened him with the law, threw me out of +the barn on an obnoxious heap of refuse." + +"You weren't exactly a David, then?" laughed the patroon, in spite of +his bad humor. + +"I'll throw the stone yet," said the little man, viciously showing his +yellow teeth. "The law's the sling." + +That evening, when the broad meadows were inundated by the shadow of +the forest that crept over it like an incoming tide, the land baron +ordered lights for every room. The manor shone in isolated grandeur +amid the gloomy fields, with the forest-wall around it; radiant as of +old, when strains of music had been heard within and many figures +passed the windows. But now there was light, and not life, and a +solitary anti-renter on the lonely road regarded with surprise the +unusual illumination. + +"What does it mean?" asked Little Thunder--for it was he--waiting and +watching, as without the gates of Paradise. + +Well might he ask, for the late Mynheer, the Patroon, had been a +veritable bat for darkness; a few candles answered his purpose in the +spacious rooms; he played the prowler, not the grand lord; a recluse +who hovered over his wine butts in the cellar and gloated over them, +while he touched them not; a hermit who lived half his time in the +kitchen, bending over the smoky fireplace, and not a lavender-scented +gentleman who aired himself in the drawing-room, a fine fop with +nothing but the mirrors to pay him homage. Little Thunder, standing +with folded arms in the dark road, gloomy as Lucifer, almost expected +to see the brilliant fabric vanish like one of those palaces of joy +built by the poets. + +Hour after hour passed, midnight had come and gone, and still the +lights glowed. Seated in the library, with the curtains drawn, were +the land baron and Scroggs, a surveyor's map between them and a dozen +bottles around them. Before Mauville stood several glasses, containing +wines of various vintages which the land baron compared and sipped, +held to the light and inhaled after the manner of a connoisseur +sampling a cellar. He was unduly dignified and stately, but the +attorney appeared decidedly groggy. The latter's ideas clashed against +one another like pebbles in a child's rattle, and, if the round table +may be supposed to represent the earth, as the ancient geographers +imagined it, Scrogg's face was surely the glowing moon shining upon +it. + +Readily had the attorney lent himself to the new order of procedure. +With him it was: "The king is dead! Long live the king!" He, who had +found but poor pickings under the former master--dry crust fees for +pleadings, demurrers or rejoinders--now anticipated generous booty and +spoil. Alert for such crumbs as might fall from a bountiful table; +keen of scent for scraps and bits, but capable of a mighty mouthful, +he paid a courtier's price for it all; wheedling, pandering, ready for +any service, ripe for any revelry. With an adulator's tact, he still +strove strenuously to hold the thread of his companion's conversation, +as Mauville said: + +"Too old, Scroggs; too old!" Setting down a glass of burgundy in which +fine particles floated through the magenta-hued liquid. "It has lost +its luster, like a woman's eyes when she has passed the meridian. Good +wine, like a woman, has its life. First, sweetly innocent, delicately +palatable, its blush like a maiden of sixteen; then glowing with a +riper development, more passionate in hue, a siren vintage; finally, +thin, waning and watery, with only memories of the deeper, rosy-hued +days. Now here, my good, but muddled friend, is your youthful maiden!" +Holding toward the lamp a glass, clear as crystal, with luster like a +gem. "Dancing eyes; a figure upright as a reed; the bearing of a +nymph; the soul of a water lily before it has opened its leaves to the +wooing moonlight!" + +[Illustration] + +"Lord! How you go on!" exclaimed Scroggs. "What with a sampling this +and sampling that, my head's going round like a top. If there's +anything in the cellar the old patroons put down we haven't tried, +sir, I beg to defer the sampling. I am of the sage's mind--'Of all men +who take wine, the moderate only enjoy it,' says Master Bacon, or some +one else." + +"Pass the bottle!" answered the other. "Gently, man! Don't disturb its +repose, and remember it disdains the perpendicular." + +"So will I soon," muttered Scroggs. "I hope you'll excuse me, sir, but +that last drop of Veuve Cliquot was the whip-cord that started the top +going, and, on my word"--raising his hands to his head--"I feel like +holding it on to keep it from spinning off." + +"Spinning or not, you shall try this vintage"--the young man's eyes +gleamed with such fire as shone in the glass--"and drink to Constance +Carew!" + +"Constance Carew!" stammered the other, desperately swallowing the +toast. + +Mauville slowly emptied the glass. "A balsamic taste, slightly piquant +but agreeable," he observed. "A dangerous wine, Scroggs! It carries no +warning; your older kind is like a world-worn coquette whose glances +at once place you on the defensive. This maiden vintage, just +springing into glorious womanhood, comes over you like a springtime +dream." + +"Who--who is she?" muttered Scroggs. + +"She is not in the scroll you prepared for my lamented kinsman, eh? +They are, for the most part, deep red, dark scarlet--that list of fair +dames! She doesn't belong to them--yet! No title, man; not even a +society lady. A stroller, which is next door to a vagrant." + +"Well, sir, she's a woman and that's enough," replied the lawyer. "And +my opinion is, it's better to have nothing to do with 'em." + +This sententious remark seemed to arouse Scroggs to momentary +vivacity. + +"Now there was my Lord Hamerton, whose picture is upstairs," he went +on quickly, like a man who is bent on grasping certain ideas before +they escape him. "He brought a beautiful woman here--carried her off, +they say from England--and installed her as mistress of the manor. I +have heard my father say that his great-grandfather, who was my lord's +solicitor, said that before his death my lord desired to make her his +wife, having been brought to a sense of the sinful life he had led by +a Puritan preacher. But at that, this woman straightened herself up, +surveyed him with scorn, and, laughing like a witch, answered: 'They +say marriages are made in heaven, my lord--and you are the devil!' So +my lord died without having atoned, and, as for my lady who refused to +become an honest woman, I am sure she was damned!" concluded Scroggs +triumphantly. + +"No doubt! So this wicked lord abducted her, Scroggs?" he added +thoughtfully. "A man of spirit, until the Puritans got after him and +showed him the burning pit and frightened him to that virtue which was +foreign to his inclinations. My lady was right in refusing to honor +such a paltry scoundrel with her hand. But it takes courage, Scroggs, +to face everlasting damnation." + +"They say, too, there was a spice of revenge about her unwillingness +to give her hand to my lord," resumed the narrator, unmindful of the +interruption. "This Puritan father said nothing but marriage with her +would save Hamerton from the sulphurous flames and so my lady refused +to sanctify their relations and rescue her lord from perdition!" + +"A pleasant revenge!" laughed the land baron. "He made life a hell for +her and she gave him an eternity of it. But take a little of this +white wine, man. We've drunk to the roses of desire, and now should +drink to the sanctified lilies. Her neck, Scroggs, is like a lily, and +her hand and her brow! Beneath that whiteness, her eyes shine with a +tenderness inviting rays of passion to kindle them. Drink!" + +But the other gave a sudden lurch forward. "My lady--refused--perdition!" +he muttered, and his head dropped to the board. + +"Wake up, man, and drink!" commanded the master. + +"Jush same--they ought to have been married," said his companion +drowsily. "They lived together so--so ill!" And then to place himself +beyond reach of further temptation from the bottle, he quietly and +naturally slid under the table. + +The patroon arose, strode to the window, which he lifted, and the +night air entered, fanning his hot brow. The leaves, on high, rustled +like falling rain. The elms tossed their branches, striking one +another in blind confusion. The long grass whispered as the breeze +stirred it like the surface of an inland lake. Withering flowers gave +up their last perfume, while a storm-cloud fled wildly across the +heavens. Some of the restlessness of the external world disturbed that +silent dark figure at the window; within him, conflicting passions +jarred like the boughs of the trees and his fancies surged like the +eddying leaves. + +"The roses of desire--the sanctified lilies!" he muttered. + +As he stood there the stars grew pale; the sky trembled and quivered +before the advent of morn. A heavy footstep fell behind him, and, +turning, he beheld the care-taker. + +"Not in bed yet, Oly-koeks?" cheerfully said the land baron. + +"I am just up." + +"In that case, it is time for me to retire," returned the master, with +a yawn. "This is a dull place, Oly-koeks; no life; no variety. Nothing +going on!" + +The servant glanced at the formidable array of bottles. "And he calls +this a quiet life!" thought the care-taker, losing his impassiveness +and viewing the table with round-eyed wonder. + +"Nothing going on?" he said aloud. "Mynheer, the Patroon, complained +of too much life here, with people taking farms all around. But, if +you are dull, a farmer told me last night there was a company of +strolling players in Vanderdonkville--" + +"Strollers!" exclaimed Mauville, wheeling around. "What are they +called?" + +"Lord; I don't know, sir. They're show-folks, and that's all--" + +"Do many strolling players come this way?" + +"Not for weeks and months, sometimes! The old patroon ordered the +_schout_ to arrest them if they entered the _wyck_." + +"Is Vanderdonkville in the _wyck_?" asked the land baron quickly. + +"No. It was separated from the _wyck_ when Rickert Jacobus married--" + +"Never mind the family genealogy! Have the coach ready at nine--" + +"To-night?" + +"This morning," replied Mauville, lightly. "And, meanwhile, put this +to bed," indicating Scroggs, who was now snoring like a bag-pipe with +one arm lovingly wound around a leg of the library table. + +The care-taker hoisted the attorney on his broad shoulders, his burden +still piping as they crossed the hall and mounted the stairway. Having +deposited his load within the amazing depths of a Dutch feather +mattress, where he lay well-nigh lost to sight, but not unheard, the +_wacht-meester_ of the _steyn_ left him to well-earned slumber and +descended to the kitchen. + +At the appointed hour, the land baron, freshly shaven, not a jaded +line in his face, and elastic in step, appeared on the front porch +before which his carriage was waiting. + +"When shall I expect you back?" asked Oly-koeks, who had reappeared at +the sound of his master's footsteps. + +"Any time or never!" laughed the patroon, springing into the vehicle. + +But as he drove through a bit of wood, wrapped in pleasing reflections, +he received startling proof that the warfare between landlord and +tenants had indeed begun in earnest, for a great stone suddenly +crashed through the window of the vehicle, without, however, injuring +the occupant. Springing from his carriage, Mauville dashed through +the fringe of wood, discharging his revolver at what he fancied was a +fleeing figure. But a fluttering in the trees from the startled birds +was the only result. + +Little Thunder was too spry to be caught by even a pursuing bullet. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SEALING THE COMPACT + + +"The show troupe has come to town," said the tall, lank postmaster to +every one who called, and the words passed from mouth to mouth, so +that those who did not witness the arrival were soon aware of it. +Punchinello and his companions never attracted more attention from the +old country peasants than did the chariot and its occupants, as on the +day after their night in the woods they passed through the main +thoroughfare of the village where they were soon to appear. + +Children in woolen dresses of red retinet, or in calico vandykes and +aprons, ran after the ponderous vehicle with cries of delight; the +staid, mature contingent of the population shook their heads +disapprovingly, while viewing with wonder the great lumbering coach, +its passengers inside and out, and, behind, the large wagon with its +load of miscellaneous trappings. Now on the stage throne lolled the +bass viol player, even as Jacques assumed the raiment of the Duke of +Aranza, reclining the while in his chair of state. Contentment was +written upon his face, and he was as much a duke or a king, as +Jacques when he swelled like a shirt bleaching in a high wind and +looked burly as a Sunday beadle. + +The principal avenue of the village boasted but few prosperous-looking +business establishments. In the general "mixed store," farmers' +implements, groceries, West India goods and even drugs were dispensed. +But the apothecary's trade then had its limitations, homeopathy being +unknown, while calomel, castor oil and rhubarb were mainly in demand, +as well as senna, manna and other bitter concoctions with which both +young and old were freely dosed. The grocer, haberdasher, and +druggist, all rolled into one substantial personage, so blocked the +doorway of his own establishment, while gazing at the strollers, it +would have puzzled a customer, though but a "sketch and outline" of a +man, to have slipped in or out. Dashing as in review before the rank +and file of the village, the coach, with an extra flourish, rattled up +to the hotel, a low but generous-sized edifice, with a wide, +comfortable veranda, upon the railing of which was an array of boots, +and behind them a number of disconsolate-looking teamsters. + +"You want to register, do you?" said the landlord in answer to Barnes' +inquiry, as the latter entered the office, the walls of which were +covered with advertisements of elections, auctions, sales of stock, +lands and quack medicines. + +"We don't keep no register," continued the landlord, "but I guess we +can accommodate you, although the house is rather full with the +fellers from the ark. Or," he added, by way of explanation in answer +to the manager's look of surprise, "Philadelphia freight wagons, I +suppose you would call them. But we speak of them as arks, because +they take in all creation. Them's the occupants, making a Mount Ararat +of the porch. They're down-hearted, because they used to liquor up +here and now they can't, for the town's temperance." + +"I trust, nevertheless, you are prepared for a season of legitimate +drama," suggested Barnes. + +The other shook his head dubiously. "The town's for lectures clear +through," he answered. "They've been making a big fuss about show +folks." + +The manager's countenance did not fall, however, upon hearing +this announcement; on the contrary, it shed forth inscrutable +satisfaction. + +No sooner were they settled in far from commodious quarters than +preparations for the future were seriously begun; and now the drama +proceeded apace, with Barnes, the moving spirit. Despite his assertion +that he was no scholar, the manager's mind was the storehouse of a +hundred plays, and in that depository were many bags of gold and many +bags of chaff. From this accumulation he drew freely, frankly, in the +light-fingered fashion of master playwrights and lesser theatrical +thimble-riggers. + +Before the manager was a table--the stage!--upon which were scattered +miscellaneous articles, symbols of life and character. A stately +salt-cellar represented the leading lady; a pepper box, the irascible +father; a rotund mustard pot, the old woman; a long, slim cruet, the +_ingenue_; and a pewter spoon, the lover. + +Barnes gravely demonstrated the action of the scene to Saint-Prosper, +and the soldier became collaborator, "abandoning, as it were," wrote +the manager in his autobiographical date-book and diary, "the sword +for the pen, and the glow of the Champ de Mars for the glimmer of a +kerosene lamp." And yet not with the inclination of Burgoyne, or other +military gentlemen who have courted the buskin and sock! On the +contrary, so foreign was the occupation to his leaning, that often a +whimsical light in his eye betrayed his disinclination and modest +disbelief in his own fitness for the task. "He said the way I laid out +an act reminded him of planning a campaign, with the outriders and +skirmishers before; the cavalry arrayed for swift service, and the +infantry marching steadily on, carrying with them the main plot, or +strength of the movement." + +No sooner were the Salt Cellar and Pepper Box reunited, and the Pewter +Spoon clasped in the arms of the loving Cruet, with the curtain +descending, than Barnes, who like the immortal Alcibiades Triplet +could turn his hand to almost anything, became furiously engaged in +painting scenery. A market-place, with a huge wagon, containing +porkers and poultry, was dashed off with a celerity that would have +made a royal academician turn green with envy. The Tiddly Wink Inn was +so faithfully reproduced that the painted bottles were a real +temptation, while on the pastoral green of a rural landscape grazed +sheep so life-like that, as Hawkes observed, it actually seemed "they +would eat the scenery all up." But finally sets and play were alike +finished, and results demonstrated that the manager was correct in his +estimate of such a drama, which became a forerunner of other pieces of +this kind, "The Bottle," "Fruits of the Wine Cup," "Aunt Dinah's +Pledge," and "Ten Nights in a Bar Room." + +In due time the drama was given in the town hall, after the rehearsals +had been witnessed by a committee from the temperance league, who +reported that the play "could not but exercise a good influence and +was entertaining withal ... We recommend the license to be issued and +commend the drama to all Good Templars." Therefore, the production was +not only well attended, but play and players were warmly received. The +town hall boasted a fairly commodious platform which now served the +purpose of a stage, and--noteworthy circumstance!--there were gas jets +for footlights, the illuminating fluid having at that early date been +introduced in several of the more progressive villages. Between the +acts, these yellow lights were turned low, and--running with the +current of popular desire--the orchestra, enlarged to four, played, by +special request, "The Old Oaken Bucket." + +The song had just sprung into popularity, and, in a moment, men, women +and children had added their voices to the instruments. It was not the +thrill of temperance fanaticism that stirred their hearts, but it was +the memories of the old pioneer home in the wilderness; the +rail-splitting, road-building days; the ancient rites of "raisings" +and other neighborly ceremonies; when the farmer cut rye with a +cradle, and threshed it out with his flail; when "butter and eggs were +pin money" and wheat paid the store-keeper. + +"How solemnly they take their amusements in the North, Mr. Barnes!" +exclaimed a voice in one of the entrances. "What a contrast to the +South--the wicked South!" + +The manager turned sharply. + +"We are mere servants of the public, Mr. Mauville." + +"And the public is master, Mr. Barnes! How the dramatic muse is +whipped around! In Greece, she was a goddess; in Rome, a hussy; in +England, a sprightly dame; now, a straight-laced Priscilla. But you +have a recruit, I see?" + +"You mean Saint-Prosper?" + +"Yes, and I can hardly blame him--under the circumstances!" murmured +the land baron, at the same time glancing around as though seeking +some one. + +"Circumstances! What circumstances?" demanded the manager. + +"Why, the pleasant company he finds himself in, of course," said the +visitor, easily. "Ah, I see Miss Carew," he added, his eye immediately +lightening, "and must congratulate her on her performance. Cursed +dusty hole, isn't it?" Brushing himself with his handkerchief as he +moved away. + +"What business has he behind the scenes anyway?" grumbled the +manager. "Dusty hole, indeed! Confound his impudence!" But his +attention being drawn to the pressing exigencies of a first night, +Barnes soon forgot his irritation over this unwarranted intrusion in +lowering a drop, hoisting a fly or readjusting a flat to his liking. + +The land baron meanwhile crossed to the semi-darkness at the rear of +the stage behind the boxed scene, where he had observed the young girl +waiting for the curtain to rise on the last act. A single light on +each side served partly to relieve the gloom; to indicate the +frame-work of the set scene and throw in shadow various articles +designed for use in the play. As she approached Mauville, who stood +motionless in an unlighted spot, the pale glow played upon her a +moment, white on her neck, in sheen on the folds of her gown, and then +she stepped into the shadow, where she was met by a tall figure, with +hand eagerly outstretched. + +"Mr. Mauville!" she exclaimed, drawing back at the suddenness of the +encounter. + +His restless eyes held hers, but his greeting was conventional. + +"Did I not say the world was small and that we might meet again?" + +"Of course, we are always meeting people and parting from them," she +replied unconcernedly. + +He laughed. "With what delightful indifference you say that! You did +not think to see me again?" + +"I hadn't thought about it," she answered, frankly, annoyed by his +persistence. + +"I am unfortunate!" he said. + +Beneath his free gaze she changed color, as though the shadow of a +rose had touched her face. + +"You are well?" he continued. + +"Yes." + +"I need not have asked." His expression conveyed more--so much more, +she bit her lip impatiently. "How do you like the new part?" + +"It is hard to tell yet," she answered evasively. + +"You would do justice to any role, but I prefer you in a historical or +romantic play, with the picturesque old costumes. If it were in my +domains, you should appear in those dramas, if I had to hang every +justice of the peace in the district." + +Her only response was a restless movement and he hastened to add: "I +fear, however, I am detaining you." + +He drew aside with such deference to permit her to pass that her +conscience smote her and she was half-minded to turn and leave him +more graciously, but this impulse was succeeded by another feeling, +ill-defined, the prevailing second thought. Had she looked, she would +have seen that her fluttering shawl touched his hand and he quickly +raised it to his lips, releasing it immediately. As it was, she moved +on, unaware of the gesture. The orchestra, or rather string quartet, +had ceased; Hans, a host in himself, a mountain of melody, bowed his +acknowledgments; the footlights glared, the din of voices subsiding; +and the curtain rose. + +Remaining in the background, the land baron watched the young girl +approach the entrance to the stage, where she stood, intent, one hand +resting against the scenery, her dress upheld with the other; the +glimmer from the footlights, reflected through the opening, touching +her face; suddenly, with a graceful movement, she vanished, and her +laughing voice seemed to come from afar. + +Was it for this he had made his hasty journey? To be treated with +indifference by a wandering player; he, the patroon, the unsuccessful +suitor of a stroller! She, who appeared in taverns, in barns, perhaps, +was as cold and proud as any fine lady, untroubled about the morrow, +and, as he weighed this phase of the matter, the land baron knew not +whether he loved her most for her beauty or hated her for the slight +she put upon him. But love or hate, it was all one, and he told +himself he would see the adventure to the end. + +"How do you do, Mr. Mauville?" said a gay but hushed voice, +interrupting his ruminations, and Susan, in a short skirt and bright +stockings, greeted him. + +"The better for seeing you, Mistress Susan." Nonchalantly surveying +her from head to foot. + +She bore his glance with the assurance of a pretty woman who knows she +is looking her best. + +"Pooh!" Curtesying disdainfully. "I don't believe you! You came to see +some one else. Well"--lightly--"she is already engrossed." + +"Really?" said the land baron. + +"Yes. You understand? He follows her with his every glance," she added +roguishly. Susan was never averse to straining the truth a little when +it served her purpose. + +"I should infer he was following her with more than his eyes," +retorted the master of the manor dryly. + +Susan tapped the stage viciously with a little foot. "She's a lovely +girl," she continued, drawing cabalistic figures with the provoking +slipper. + +"You are piqued?" he said, watching her skeptically. + +"Not at all." Quickly, startled by his blunt accusation. + +"Not a little jealous?" he persisted playfully. + +"Jealous?" Then with a frown, hesitatingly: "Well, she is given +prominence in the plays and--" + +"--You would not be subordinated, if she were not in the company? +Apart from this, you are fond of her?" + +The foot ceased its tracing and rested firmly on the floor. + +"I hate her!" snapped Susan, angered by this baiting. No sooner had +she spoken than she regretted her outburst. "How you draw one out! I +was only joking--though she does have the best parts and we take what +we can get!" + +"But she's a lovely girl!" concluded the land baron. Susan's eyes +flashed angrily. + +"How clever of you! You twist and turn one's words about and give +them a different meaning from what was intended. If I wanted to catch +you up--" + +"A truce!" he exclaimed. "Let us take each other seriously, hereafter. +Is it agreed?" She nodded. "Well, seriously, you can help me and help +yourself." + +"How?" doubtfully. + +"Why not be allies?" + +"What for?" + +"Mutual service." + +"Oh!" dubiously. + +"A woman's 'yes'!" + +"No," with affirmative answer in her eyes. + +He believed the latter. + +"We will seal the compact then." + +And he bent over and saluted Mistress Susan on the lips. She became as +rosy as the flowers she carried and tapped him playfully with them. + +"For shame! La! What must you think of me?" + +"That you are an angel." + +"How lovely! But I must go." + +"May I see you after the play?" + +"Yes." + +"Do not fail me, or the soldier will not transfer his affections to +you!" + +"If he dared!" And she shook her head defiantly as she tripped away. + +"Little fool!" murmured Mauville, his lips curling scornfully. "The +one is a pastime; the other"--he paused and caught his breath--"a +passion!" + +But he kept his appointment with Susan, escorting her to the hotel, +where he bade her good-night with a lingering pressure of the hand, +and--ordered his equipage to the door! + +"Hadn't you better wait until morning?" asked the surprised landlord, +when the young patroon announced his intention of taking an immediate +departure. "There are the barn-burners and--traveling at night--" + +"Have they turned footpads?" was the light reply. "Can't I drive +through my own lands? Let me see one of their thieving faces--" And he +made a significant gesture. "Not ride at night! These Jacobins shall +not prevent me." + +Barring the possible danger from the lease-holders who were +undoubtedly ripe for any mischief, the journey did not promise such +discomfiture as might have been expected, the coach being especially +constructed for night traveling. On such occasions, between the seats +the space was filled by a large cushion, adapted to the purpose, which +in this way converted the interior of the vehicle into a sleeping-room +of limited dimensions. With pillows to neutralize the jarring, the +land baron stretched himself indolently upon his couch, and gazed +through the window at the crystalline lights of the heavens, while +thoughts of lease-holders and barn-burners faded into thin air. + +At dawn, when he opened his eyes, the morning star yet gleamed with a +last pale luster. Raising himself on his elbow and looking out over +the country to learn his whereabouts, his eye fell upon a tree, +blood-red, a maple amid evergreens. Behind this somber community of +pines, stiff as a band of Puritan elders, surrounding the bright-hued +maple, a Hester in that austere congregation, appeared the glazed tile +roof of Little Thunder's habitation, a two-story abode of modest +proportions and olden type. As the land baron passed, a brindle cow in +the side yard saluted the morn, calling the sluggard from his couch, +but at the manor, which the patroon shortly reached, the ever wakeful +Oly-koeks was already engaged in chopping wood near the kitchen door. +The growling of the hound at his feet called the care-taker's +attention to the master's coming, and, driving the ax into an +obstinate stick of hickory, he donned his coat, drawing near the +vehicle, where he stood in stupid wonderment as the land baron +alighted. + +"Any callers, Oly-koeks?" carelessly asked the master. + +"A committee of barn-burners, Mynheer, to ask you not to serve any +more writs." + +"And so give them time to fight me with the lawmakers! But there; +carry my portmanteau into the library and"--as Oloffe's upper lip drew +back--"teach your dog to know me." + +"He belonged to the old master, Mynheer. When he died, the dog lay +near his grave day and night." + +"I dare say; like master, like dog! But fetch the portmanteau, you +Dutch varlet!" Entering the house, while the coachman drove the tired +horses toward the barn. "There's something in it I want. Bring it +here." As he passed into the library. "Yes; I put it in there, I am +sure. Ah, here we have it!" And unpacking the valise, he took +therefrom a handsome French writing case. + +"Thou Wily Limb of the Law," wrote the patroon, "be it known by these +presents, thou art summoned to appear before me! I have work for +you--not to serve any one with a writ; assign; bring an action, or any +of your rascally, pettifogging tricks! Send me no demurrer, but your +own intemperate self." + +Which epistle the patroon addressed to his legal satellite and +despatched by messenger. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE QUEST OF THE SOLDIER + + +Several bleak days were followed by a little June weather in October. +A somnolent influence rested everywhere. Above the undulation of land +on the horizon were the clouds, like heavenly hills, reflecting their +radiance on those earthly elevations. The celestial mountains and +valleys gave wondrous perspective to the outlook, and around them lay +an atmosphere, unreal and idyllic. + +On such a morning Susan stood at a turn in the road, gazing after a +departing vehicle with ill-concealed satisfaction and yet withal some +dubiousness. Now that the plan, suggested by Mauville, had not +miscarried, certain misgivings arose, for there is a conscience in the +culmination wanting in the conception of an act. As the partial +realization of the situation swept over her, she gave a gasp, and +then, the vehicle having meanwhile vanished, a desperate spirit of +bravado replaced her momentary apprehension. She even laughed +nervously as she waved her handkerchief in the direction the coach +had taken: "_Bon voyage!_" + +But as the words fell from the smiling lips, her eyes became +thoughtful and her hand fell to her side; it occurred to Susan she +would be obliged to divert suspicion from herself. The curling lips +straightened; she turned abruptly and hastened toward the town. But +her footsteps soon lagged and she paused thoughtfully. + +"If I reach the hotel too soon," she murmured, "they may overtake +him." + +So she stopped at the wayside, attracted by the brilliant cardinal +flowers, humming as she plucked them, but ever and anon glancing +around guiltily. The absurd thought came to her that the bright autumn +blossoms were red, the hue of sin, and she threw them on the sward, +and unconsciously rubbed her hands on her dress. + +Still she lingered, however, vaguely mindful she was adding to her +burden of ill-doing, but finally again started slowly toward the +village, hurrying as she approached the hotel, where she encountered +the soldier on the veranda. Her distressed countenance and haste +proclaimed her a messenger of disaster. + +"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Where is Mr. Barnes?" + +"What is the matter, Miss Duran?" Suspecting very little was the +matter, for Susan was nothing, if not all of a twitter. + +"Constance has been carried off!" + +"Carried off!" He regarded her as if he thought she had lost her +senses. + +"Yes; abducted!" + +"Abducted! By whom?" + +"I--I did not see his face!" she gasped. "And it is all my fault! +I asked her to take a walk! Oh, what shall I do?" Wringing her hands +in anguish that was half real. "We kept on and on--it was so +pleasant!--until we had passed far beyond the outskirts of the +village. At a turn in the road stood a coach--a cloak was thrown +over my head by some one behind--I must have fainted, and, when I +recovered, she was gone. Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" + +"When did it happen?" As he spoke the young man left the veranda. +Grazing contentedly near the porch was his horse and Saint-Prosper's +hand now rested on the bridle. + +"I can't tell how long I was unconscious," said the seemingly +hysterical young woman, "but I hurried here as soon as I recovered +myself." + +"Where did it occur? Down the road you came?" + +"Ye-es." + +Saint-Prosper vaulted into the saddle. "Tell the manager to see a +magistrate," he said. + +"But you're not going to follow them alone?" began Susan. "Oh dear, I +feel quite faint again! If you would please help me into the--" + +By way of answer, the other touched his horse deeply with the spur and +the mettlesome animal reared and plunged, then, recalled by the sharp +voice of the rider, galloped wildly down the road. Susan observed the +sudden departure with mingled emotions. + +"How quixotic!" she thought discontentedly. "But he won't catch them," +came the consoling afterthought, as she turned to seek the manager. + +Soon the soldier, whose spirited dash down the main thoroughfare had +awakened some misgivings in the little town, was beyond the precincts +of village scrutiny. The country road was hard, although marked by +deep cuts from traffic during a rainy spell, and the horse's hoofs +rang out with exhilarating rhythm. Regardless of all save the distance +traversed, the rider yet forbore to press the pace, relaxing only +when, after a considerable interval, he came to another road and drew +rein at the fork. One way to the right ran gently through the valley, +apparently terminating in the luxuriant foliage, while the other, like +a winding, murky stream, stretched out over a more level tract of +land. + +Which thoroughfare had the coach taken? Dismounting, the young man +hastily examined the ground, but the earth was so dry and firm, and +the tracks of wheels so many, it was impossible to distinguish the old +marks from the new. Even sign-post there was none; the roads diverged, +and the soldier could but blindly surmise their destination, selecting +after some hesitation the thoroughfare running into the gorgeous, +autumnal painted forest. + +He had gone no inconsiderable distance when his doubts were abruptly +confirmed. Reaching an opening, bright as the chapel of a darkened +monastery, he discerned a farmer in a buckboard approaching from the +opposite direction. The swift pace of the rider and the leisurely jog +of the team soon brought them together. + +"Did you pass a coach down the road?" asked the soldier. + +"No-a," said the farmer, deliberately, as his fat horses instinctively +stood stock still; "didn't pass nobody." + +"Have you come far?" + +"A good ways." + +"You would have met a coach, if it had passed here an hour ago?" + +"I guess I would," said the man. "This road leads straight across the +country." + +"Where does the other road at the fork go?" + +"To the patroon village. There's a reform orator there to-day and a +barn-burners' camp-fire." + +Without waiting to thank his informant, Saint-Prosper pulled his horse +quickly around, while the man in the buckboard gradually got under +way, until he had once more attained a comfortable, slow gait. Indeed, +by the time his team had settled down to a sleepy jog, in keeping with +the dreamy haze, hanging upon the upland, his questioner was far down +the road. + +When, however, the soldier once more reached the fork, and took the +winding way across a more level country, he moderated his pace, +realizing the need of husbanding his horse's powers of endurance. +The country seemed at peace, as though no dissension nor heated +passions could exist within that pastoral province. And yet, not far +distant, lay the domains of the patroons, the hot-bed of the two +opposing branches of the Democratic party: The "hunkers," or +conservative-minded men, and the "barn-burners," or progressive +reformers, who sympathized with the anti-renters. + +After impatiently riding an hour or more through this delectable +region, the horseman drew near the patroon village, a cluster of +houses amid the hills and meadows. Here the land barons had originally +built for the tenants comfortable houses and ample barns, saw and +grist mills. But the old homes had crumbled away, and that rugged +ancestry of dwellings had been replaced by a new generation of houses, +with clapboards, staring green blinds and flimsy verandas. + +In the historic market place, as Saint-Prosper rode down the street, +were assembled a number of lease-holders of both sexes and all ages, +from the puny babe in arms to the decrepit crone and hoary grand-sire, +listening to the flowing tongue of a rustic speech-maker. This forum +of the people was shaded by a sextette of well-grown elms. The +platform of the local Demosthenes stood in a corner near the street. + +"'Woe to thee, O Moab! Thou art undone, O people of Chemosh,' if you +light not the torch of equal rights!" exclaimed the platform patterer +as Saint-Prosper drew near. "Awake, sons of the free soil! Now is the +time to make a stand! Forswear all allegiance to the new patroon; +this Southern libertine and despot from the land of slavery!" + +The grandam wagged her head approvingly; the patriarch stroked his +beard with acquiescence and strong men clenched their fists as the +spokesman mouthed their real or fancied wrongs. It was an earnest, +implacable crowd; men with lowering brows merely glanced at the +soldier as he rode forward; women gazed more intently, but were +quickly lured back by the tripping phrases of the mellifluous +speaker. + +On the outskirts of the gathering, near the road, stood a tall, +beetling individual whom Saint-Prosper addressed, reining in his horse +near the wooden rail, which answered for a fence. + +"Dinna ye ken I'm listening?" impatiently retorted the other, with a +fierce frown. "Gang your way, mon," he added, churlishly, as he turned +his back. + +Judging from the wrathful faces directed toward him, the lease-holders +esteemed Saint-Prosper a political disturber, affiliating with the +other faction of the Democratic party, and bent, perhaps, on creating +dissension at the tenants' camp-fire. The soldier's impatience and +anger were ready to leap forth at a word; he wheeled fiercely upon the +weedy Scot, to demand peremptorily the information so uncivilly +withheld, when a gust of wind blowing something light down the road +caused his horse to shy suddenly and the rider to glance at what had +frightened the animal. After a brief scrutiny, he dismounted quickly +and examined more attentively the object,--a pamphlet with a red +cover, upon which appeared the printed design of the conventional +Greek masks of Tragedy and Comedy, and beneath, the title, "The +Honeymoon." The bright binding, albeit soiled by the dusty road, and +the fluttering of the leaves in the breeze had startled the horse and +incidentally attracted the attention of his master. Across the somber +mask of melancholy was traced in buoyant hand the name of the young +actress. + +But the soldier needed not the confirmation, for had he not noticed +this same prompt book in her lap on the journey of the chariot? It was +a mute, but eloquent message. Could she have spoken more plainly if +she had written with ink and posted the missive with one of those new +bronze-hued portraits of Franklin, called stamps by the government and +"sticking plaster" by the people? Undoubtedly she had hoped the +manager was following her when she intrusted the message to that +erratic postman, Chance, who plied his vocation long before the black +Washington or the bronze Franklin was a talisman of more or less +uncertain delivery. + +The soldier, without a moment's hesitation, thrust the pamphlet inside +his coat, flung himself on his horse, and, turning from the +market-place, dashed down the road. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AN ECCENTRIC JAILER + + +"For a man who can't abide the sex, this _is_ a predicament," muttered +the patroon's jackal, as the coach in which he found himself sped +rapidly along the highway. "Here am I as much an abductor as my lord +who whipped his lady from England to the colonies!" Gloomily regarding +a motionless figure on the seat opposite, and a face like ivory +against the dark cushions. "Curse the story; telling it led to this! +How white she is; like driven snow; almost as if--" + +And Scroggs, whose countenance lost a shade of its natural flush, +going from flame-color to salmon hue, bent with sudden apprehension +over a small hand which hung from the seat. + +"No; it's only a swoon," he continued, relieved, feeling her wrist +with his knobby fingers. "How she struggled! If it hadn't been for +smothering her with the cloak--but the job's done and that's the end +of it." + +Settling back in his seat he watched her discontentedly, alternately +protesting against the adventure, and consoling himself weakly with the +remembrance of the retainer; weighing the risks, and the patroon's +ability to gloss over the matter; now finding the former unduly +obtrusive, again comforted with the assurance of the power pre-empted +by the land barons. Moreover, the task was half-accomplished, and it +would be idle to recede now. + +"Why couldn't the patroon have remained content with his bottle?" he +grumbled. "But his mind must needs run to this frivolous and +irrational proceeding! There's something reasonable in pilfering a +purse, but carrying off a woman--Yet she's a handsome baggage." + +Over the half-recumbent figure swept his glance, pausing as he +surveyed her face, across which flowed a tress of hair loosened in the +struggle. Save for the unusual pallor of her cheek, she might have +been sleeping, but as he watched her the lashes slowly lifted, and he +sullenly nerved himself for the encounter. At the aspect of those +bead-like eyes, resolute although ill at ease, like a snake striving +to charm an adversary, a tremor of half-recollection shone in her gaze +and the color flooded her face. Mechanically, sweeping back the +straggling lock of hair, she raised herself without removing her eyes. +He who had expected a tempest of tears shifted uneasily, even +irritably, from that steady stare, until, finding the silence +intolerable, he burst out: + +"Well, ma'am, am I a bugbear?" + +In her dazed condition she probably did not hear his words; or, if she +did, set no meaning to them, Her glance, however, strayed to the +narrow window, and then wandered back to the well-worn interior of the +coach. Suddenly, as the startling realization of her position came to +her, she uttered a loud cry, sprang toward the door, and, with nervous +fingers, strove to open it. The man's face became more rubicund as he +placed a detaining hand on her shoulder, and roughly thrust her toward +the seat. + +"Make the best of it!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "You'd better, for +I'm not to be trifled with." + +Recoiling from his touch, she held herself aloof with such aversion, a +sneer crossed his face, and he observed glumly: + +"Oh, I'm not a viper! If you're put out, so am I." + +"Who are you?" she demanded, breathlessly. + +"That's an incriminating question, Ma'am," he replied. "In this case, +though, the witness has no objection to answering. I'm your humble +servant." + +His forced drollery was more obnoxious than his ill-humor, and, +awakening her impatience, restored in a measure her courage. He was +but a pitiful object, after all, with his flame-colored visage, and +short, crouching figure; and, as her thoughts passed from the brutal +part he had played on the road to her present situation, she exclaimed +with more anger than apprehension: + +"Perhaps you will tell me the meaning of this outrage--your smothering +me--forcing me into this coach--and driving away--where?" + +His face became once more downcast and moody. Driven into a corner by +her swift words, his glance met hers fairly; he drummed his fingers +together. + +"There's no occasion to show your temper, Miss," he said reflectively. +"I'm a bit touchy myself to-day; 'sudden and quick in quarrel.' You +see I know my Shakespeare, Ma'am. Let us talk about that great poet +and the parts you, as an actress, prefer--" + +"Can I get an answer from you?" she cried, subduing her dread. + +"What is it you asked?" + +"As if you did not know!" she returned, her lip trembling with +impatience and loathing. + +"Yes; I remember." Sharply. "You asked where we were driving? Across +the country. What is the meaning of this--outrage, I believe you +called it? All actions spring from two sources--Cupid and cupidity. +The rest of the riddle you'll have to guess." Gazing insolently into +her face, with his hands on his knees. + +"But you have told me nothing," she replied, striving to remain +mistress of herself and to hide her apprehension. + +"Do you call that nothing? You have the approximate cause--_causa +causans_. Was it Cupid? No, for like Bacon, your sex's 'fantastical' +charms move me not." + +This sally put him in better temper with himself. She was helpless, +and he experienced a churlish satisfaction in her condition. + +"What was it, then? Cupidity. Do you know what poverty is like in this +barren region?" he cried harshly. "The weapons of education only +unfit you for the plow. You stint, pinch, live on nothing!" He rubbed +his dry hands together. "It was crumbs and scraps under the +parsimonious regime; but now the prodigal has come into his own and +believes in honest wages and a merry life." + +Wonderingly she listened, the scene like a grotesque dream, with the +ever-moving coach, the lonely road, the dark woods, and--so near, she +could almost place her hand upon him--this man, muttering and +mumbling. He had offered her the key of the mystery, but she had +failed to use it. His ambiguous, loose talk, only perplexed and +alarmed her; the explanation was none at all. + +As he watched her out of the corner of his eye, weighing doubt and +uncertainty, new ideas assailed him. After all she had spirit, +courage! Moreover, she was an actress, and the patroon was madly in +love with her. + +"If we were only leagued together, how we could strip him!" he +thought. + +His head dropped contemplatively to his breast, and for a long +interval he remained silent, abstracted, while the old springless +coach, with many a jolt and jar, covered mile after mile; up the +hills, crowned with bush and timber; across the table land; over the +plank bridges spanning the brooks and rivulets. More reconciled to +his part and her presence, his lips once or twice parted as if he +were about to speak, but closed again. He even smiled, showing his +amber-hued teeth, nodding his head in a friendly fashion, as to +say: "It'll come out all right, Madam; all right for both of us!" +Which, indeed, was his thought. She believed him unsettled, bereft +of reason, and, although, he was manifestly growing less hostile, +his surveillance became almost unbearable. At every moment she felt +him regarding her like a lynx, and endeavored therefore to keep +perfectly still. What would her strange warder do next? It was not an +alarming act, however. He consulted a massive watch, remarking: + +"It's lunch time and over! With your permission, I'll take a bite and +a drop. Will you join me?" + +She turned her head away, and, not disconcerted by her curt refusal, +he drew a wicker box from beneath a seat and opened it. His reference +to a "bite and a drop" was obviously figurative, especially the +"drop," which grew to the dimensions of a pint, which he swallowed +quickly. Perhaps the flavor of the wine made him less attentive to his +prisoner, for as he lifted the receptacle to his lips, she thrust her +arms through the window and a play book dropped from her hand, a +possible clue for any one who might follow the coach. For some time +she had been awaiting this opportunity and when it came, the carriage +was entering a village. + +Scroggs finished his cup. "You see, we're provided for," he began. +Here the bottle fell from his hand. + +"The patroon village!" he exclaimed in consternation. "I'd forgotten +we were so close! And they're all gathered in the square, too!" + +He cast a quick glance at her. "You're all ready to call for help," he +sneered, "but I'm not ready to part company yet." + +Hastily drawing up one of the wooden shutters, he placed himself near +the other window, observing fiercely; "I don't propose you shall undo +what's being done for you. Let me hear from you"--jerking his finger +toward the square--"and I'll not answer for what I'll do." But in +spite of his admonition he read such determination in her eyes, he +felt himself baffled. + +"You intend to make trouble!" he cried. And putting his head suddenly +through the window, he called to the driver: "Whip the horses through +the market place!" + +As the affrighted animals sprang forward he blocked the window, +placing one hand on her shoulder. He felt her escape from his grasp, +but not daring to leave his post, he leaned out of the window when +they were opposite the square, and shook his fist at the anti-renters, +exclaiming: + +"I'll arrest every mother's son of you! I'll evict you--jail you for +stealing rent!" + +Drowned by the answering uproar, "The patroon's dog!" "Bullets for +deputies!" the emissary of the land baron continued to threaten the +throng with his fist, until well out of ear-shot, and, thanks to the +level road, beyond reach of their resentment. Not that they strove to +follow him far, for they thought the jackal had taken leave of his +senses. Laughter mingled with their jeers at the absurd figure he +presented, fulminating and flying at the same time. But there was no +defiance left in him when they were beyond the village, and he fell +back into his seat, his face now ash-colored. + +"If they'd stopped us my life wouldn't have been worth the asking," he +muttered hoarsely. "But I did it!" Triumphantly gazing at the young +girl who, trembling with excitement, leaned against the side of the +coach. "I see you managed to get down the shutter. I hope you heard +your own voice. I didn't; and, what's more, I'm sure they didn't!" + +With fingers he could hardly control he opened a second bottle, +dispensed with the formality of a glass, and set the neck to his lips, +repeating the operation until it was empty, when he tossed it out of +the window to be shattered against a rock, after which he sank again +into a semblance of meditation. + +Disappointed over her ineffectual efforts, overcome by the strain, the +young girl for the time relaxed all further attempt. Unseen, unheard, +she had stood at her window! She had tried to open the door, but it +resisted her frantic efforts, and then the din had died away and left +her weak, powerless, hardly conscious of the hateful voice of her +companion from time to time addressing her. + +But fortunately he preferred the gross practice of draining the cup to +the fine art of conversation. Left to the poor company of her +thoughts, she dwelt upon the miscarriage of her design, and the +slender chance of assistance. They would probably pass through no +more villages and if they did, he would undoubtedly find means to +prevent her making herself known. Unless--and a glimmer of hope +flickered through her thoughts!--her warder carried his potations to a +point where vigilance ceased to be a virtue. Inconsiderately he +stopped at the crucial juncture, with all the signs of contentment and +none of drowsiness. + +So minutes resolved themselves into hours and the day wore on. +Watching the sun-rays bathe the top of the forest below them, she +noted how fast the silver disk was descending. The day which had +seemed interminable now appeared but too short, and she would gladly +have recalled those fleeting hours. Ignorant of the direction in which +they had been traveling, she realized that the driver had been +unsparing and the distance covered not inconsiderable. The mystery of +the assault, the obscurity of the purpose and the vagueness of their +destination were unknown quantities which, added to the declining of +the day and the brewing terrors of the night, were well calculated to +terrify and crush her. + +Despairingly, she observed how the sun dipped, and ever dipped toward +the west, when suddenly a sound afar rekindled her fainting spirits. +Listening more attentively, she was assured imagination had not +deceived her; it was the faint patter of a horse's hoofs. Nearer it +drew; quicker beat her pulses. Moreover, it was the rat-a-tat of +galloping. Some one was pursuing the coach on horseback. Impatient to +glance behind, she only refrained for prudential reasons. + +Immersed in his own grape-vine castle her jailer was unmindful of the +approaching rider, and she turned her face from him that he might not +read her exultation. Closer resounded the beating hoofs, but her +impatience outstripped the pursuer, and she was almost impelled to +rush to the window. + +Who was the horseman? Was it Barnes? Saint-Prosper? The latter's name +had quickly suggested itself to her. + +Although the rider, whoever he might be, continued to gain ground, to +her companion, the approaching clatter was inseparable from the noise +of the vehicle, and it was not until the horseman was nearly abreast, +and the cadence of the galloping resolved itself into clangor, that +the dreamer awoke with an imprecation. As he sprang to his feet, thus +rudely disturbed, a figure on horseback dashed by and a stern voice +called to the driver: + +"Stop the coach!" + +Probably the command was given over the persuasive point of a weapon, +for the animals were drawn up with a quick jerk and came to a +standstill in the middle of the road. Menacing and abusive, as the +vehicle stopped, the warder's hand sought one of his pockets, when the +young girl impetuously caught his arm, clinging to it tenaciously. + +"Quick!--Mr. Saint-Prosper!" she cried, recognizing, as she thought, +the voice of the soldier. + +"You wild-cat!" her jailer exclaimed, struggling to throw her off. + +Not succeeding, he raised his free arm in a flurry of invective. + +"Curse you, will you let go!" + +"Quick! Quick!" she called out, holding him more tightly. + +A flood of Billingsgate flowed from his lips. "Let go, or--" + +But before he could in his blind passion strike her or otherwise vent +his rage, a revolver was clapped to his face through the window, and, +with a look of surprise and terror, his valor oozing from him, he +crouched back on the cushions. At the same time the carriage door was +thrown open, and Edward Mauville, the patroon, stood in the entrance! + +Only an instant his eyes swept her, observing the flushed cheeks and +disordered attire, leading her wonder at his unexpected appearance, +and--to his satisfaction!--her relief as well; only an instant, during +which the warder stared at him open-mouthed--and then his glance +rested on the now thoroughly sober limb of the law. + +"Get out!" he said, briefly and harshly. + +"But," began the other with a sickly grin, intended to be ingratiating, +"I don't understand--this unexpected manner--this forcible departure +from--" + +Coolly raising his weapon, the patroon deliberately covered the +hapless jailer, who unceremoniously scrambled out of the door. The +land baron laughed, replaced his revolver and, turning to the young +girl, removed his hat. + +"It was fortunate, Miss Carew, I happened along," he said gravely. +"With your permission, I will get in. You can tell me what has +happened as we drive along. The manor house, my temporary home, is not +far from here. If I can be of any service, command me!" + +The jackal saw the patroon spring into the carriage, having fastened +his horse behind, and drive off. Until the vehicle had disappeared, he +stood motionless in the road, but when it had passed from sight, he +seated himself on a stone. + +"That comes from mixing the breed!" he muttered. "Dramatic effect, _a +la France_!" He wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Well, I'm three +miles from my humble habitation, but I'd rather walk than ride--under +some circumstances!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE COMING OF LITTLE THUNDER + + +The afternoon was waning; against the golden western sky the old manor +house loomed in solemn majesty, the fields and forests emphasizing its +isolation in the darkening hour of sunset, as a coach, with jaded +horses, passed through the avenue of trees and approached the broad +portico. A great string of trailing vine had been torn from the walls +by the wind and now waved mournfully to and fro with no hand to adjust +it. In the rear was a huge-timbered barn, the door of which was +unfastened, swinging on its rusty hinges with a creaking and moaning +sound. + +As gaily as in the days when the periwigged coachman had driven the +elaborate equipage of the early patroons through the wrought-iron gate +this modern descendant entered the historic portals, not to be met, +however, by servitors in knee breeches at the front door, but by the +solitary care-taker who appeared on the portico in considerable +disorder and evident state of excitement, accompanied by the shaggy +dog, Oloffe. + +"The deputies shot two of the tenants to-day," hurriedly exclaimed the +guardian of the place, without noticing Mauville's companion. "The +farmers fired upon them; they replied, and one of the tenants is +dead." + +"A good lesson for them, since they were the aggressors," cried the +heir, as he sprang from the coach. "But you have startled the lady." + +An exclamation from the vehicle in an unmistakably feminine voice +caused the "_wacht-meester_" now to observe the occupant for the first +time and the servant threw up his hands in consternation. Here was a +master who drank all night, shot his tenants by proxy, visited +strollers, and now brought one of them to the _steyn_. That the +strange lady was a player, Oly-koeks immediately made up his mind, and +he viewed her with mingled aversion and fear, as the early settlers +regarded sorcerers and witches. She was very beautiful, he observed in +that quick glance, but therefore the more dangerous; she appeared +distressed, but he attributed her apparent grief to artfulness. He at +once saw a new source of trouble in her presence; as though the +threads were not already sufficiently entangled, without the +introduction of a woman--and she a public performer!--into the +complicated mesh! + +"Fasten the iron shutters of the house," briefly commanded Mauville, +breaking in upon the servant's painful reverie. "Then help this man +change the horses and put in the grays." + +Oly-koeks, with a final deprecatory glance at the coach, expressive +of his estimate of his master's light conduct and his apprehension of +the outcome, disappeared to obey this order. + +"May I assist you, Miss Carew?" said the land baron deferentially, +offering his arm to the young girl, whose pale but observant face +disclosed new demur and inquiry. + +"But you said we would go right on?" she returned, drawing back with +implied dissent. + +"When the horses are changed! If you will step out, the carriage will +be driven to the barn." + +Reluctantly she obeyed, and as she did so, the patroon and the +coachman exchanged pithy glances. + +"Look sharp!" commanded the master, sternly. "Oh, he won't run away," +added Mauville quickly, in answer to her look of surprise. "He knows I +could find him, and"--fingering his revolver--"will not disoblige me. +Later we'll hear the rogue's story." + +The man's averted countenance smothered a clandestine smile, as he +touched the horses with his whip and turned them toward the barn, +leaving the patroon and his companion alone on the broad portico. +Sweeping from a distant grove of slender poplars and snowy birch a +breeze bore down upon them, suddenly bleak and frosty, and she +shivered in the nipping air. + +"You are chilled!" he cried. "If you would but go into the house while +we are waiting! Indeed, if you do not, I shall wonder how I have +offended you! It will be something to remember"--half lightly, half +seriously--"that you have crossed my threshold!" + +He stood at the door, with such an undissembled smile, his accents so +regretful, that after a moment's hesitation, Constance entered, +followed by the patroon. Sweeping aside the heavy draperies from the +window, he permitted the golden shafts of the ebbing day to enter the +hall, gleaming on the polished floors, the wainscoting and the +furniture, faintly illuminating the faded pictures and weirdly +revealing the turnings of the massive stairway. No wonder a +half-shudder of apprehension seized the young actress in spite of her +self-reliance and courage, as she entered the solemn and mournful +place, where past grandeur offered nothing save morbid memories and +where the frailty of existence was significantly written! After that +Indian summer day the sun was sinking, angry and fiery, as though +presaging a speedy reform in the vagaries of the season and an +immediate return to the legitimate surroundings of October. + +Involuntarily the girl moved to the window, where the light rested on +her brown tresses, and as Mauville watched that radiance, shifting and +changing, her hair alight with mystic color, the passion that had +prompted him to this end was stirred anew, dissipating any intrusive +doubts. The veering and flickering sheen seemed but a web of +entangling irradiation. A span of silence became an interminable +period to her, with no sight of fresh horses nor sign of preparation +for the home journey. + +"What takes him so long?" she said, finally, with impatience. "It is +getting so late!" + +"It is late," he answered. "Almost too late to go on! You are weary +and worn. Why not rest here to-night?" + +"Rest here?" she repeated, with a start of surprise. + +"You are not fit to drive farther. To-morrow we can return." + +"To-morrow!" she cried. "But--what do you mean?" + +"That I must insist upon your sparing yourself!" he said, firmly, +although a red spot flushed his cheek. + +"No; no! We must leave at once!" she answered. + +He smiled reassuringly. "Why will you not have confidence in me?" he +asked. "You have not the strength to travel all night--over a rough +road--after such a trying day. For your own sake, I beg you to give up +the idea. Here you are perfectly safe and may rest undisturbed." + +"Please call the horses at once!" + +An impatient expression furrowed his brow. He had relied on easily +prevailing upon her through her gratitude; continuing in his +disinterested role for yet some time; resuming the journey on the +morrow, carrying her farther away under pretext of mistaking the road, +until--Here his plans had faded into a vague perspective, dominated by +unreasoning self-confidence and egotism. + +But her words threatened a rupture at the outset that would seriously +alter the status of the adventure. + +"It is a mistake to go on to-night," he said, with a dissenting +gesture. "However, if you are determined--" And Mauville stepped to +the window. "Why, the carriage is not there!" he exclaimed, looking +out. + +"Not there!" she repeated, incredulously. "You told them to change the +horses. Why--" + +"I don't understand," returned the land baron, with an effort to make +his voice surprised and concerned. "He may--Hello-a, there! +You!--Oly-koeks!" he called out, interrupting his own explanation. + +Not Oly-koeks, but the driver's face, appeared from behind the barn +door, and, gazing through the window, the young girl, with a start, +suddenly realized that she had seen him not for the first time that +day--but where?--when? Through the growing perplexity of her thoughts +she heard the voice of her companion + +"Why don't you hitch up the grays?" + +"There are no horses in the barn," came the answer. + +"Strange, the care-taker did not tell me they had been taken away!" +commented the other, hastily, stepping from the window as the driver +vanished once more into the barn. "I am sorry, but there seems no +alternative but to wait--at least, until I can send for others." + +She continued to gaze toward the door through which the man had +disappeared. She could place him now, although his livery had been +discarded for shabby clothes; she recalled him distinctly in spite of +this changed appearance. + +"Why not make the best of it?" said Mauville, softly, but with glance +sparkling in spite of himself. "After all, are you not giving yourself +needless apprehensions? You are at home here. Anything you wish shall +be yours. Consider yourself mistress; me, one of your servants!" + +Almost imperceptibly his manner had changed. Instinctive misgivings +which had assailed her in the coach with him now resolved themselves +into assured fears. Something she could not explain had aroused her +suspicions before they reached the manor, but his words had +glossed these inward qualms, and a feeling of obligation suggested +trust, not shrinking; but, with his last words, a full light illumined +her faculties; an association of ideas revealed his intent and +performance. + +"It was you, then," she said, slowly, studying him with steady, +penetrating glance. + +"You!" she repeated, with such contempt that he was momentarily +disconcerted. "The man in the carriage--he was hired by you. The +driver--his face is familiar. I remember now where I saw him--in the +Shadengo Valley. He is your coachman. Your rescue was planned to +deceive me. It deceived even your man. He had not expected that. Your +reassuring me was false; the plan to change horses a trick to get me +here--" + +"If you would but listen--" + +"When"--her eyes ablaze--"will this farce end?" + +Her words took him unawares. Not that he dreaded the betrayal of his +actual purpose. On the contrary, his reckless temper, chafing under +her unexpected obduracy, now welcomed the opportunity of discarding +the disinterested and chivalrous part he had assumed. + +"When it ends in a honeymoon, _ma belle_ Constance!" he said, +swiftly. + +His sudden words, removing all doubts as to his purpose, awoke such +repugnance in her that for a moment aversion was paramount to every +other feeling. Again she looked without, but only the solitude of the +fields and forests met her glance. + +The remoteness of the situation gave the very boldness of his plan +feasibility. Was he not his own magistrate in his own province? Why, +then, he had thought, waste the golden moments? He had but one heed +now; a study of physical beauty, against a crimson background. + +"To think of such loveliness lost in the wilderness!" he said, softly. +"The gates of art should all open to you. Why should you play to +rustic bumpkins, when the world of fashion would gladly receive you? I +am a poor prophet if you would not be a success in town. It is not +always easy to get a hearing, to procure an audience, but means could +be found. Soon your name would be on every one's lips. Your art is +fresh. The jaded world likes freshness. The cynical town runs to +artless art as an antidote to its own poison. Most of the players are +wrinkled and worn. A young face will seem like a new-grown white +rose." + +She did not answer; unresponsive as a statue, she did not move. The +sun shot beneath an obstructing branch, and long, searching shafts +found access to the room. Mauville moved forward impetuously, until he +stood on the verge of the sunlight on the satinwood floor. + +"May I not devote myself to this cause, Constance?" he continued. "You +are naturally resentful toward me now. But can I not show you that I +have your welfare at heart? If you were as ambitious as you are +attractive, what might you not do? Art is long; our days are short; +youth flies like a summer day." + +His glance sought hers questioningly; still no reply; only a wave of +blood surged over her neck and brow, while her eyes fell. Then the +glow receded, leaving her white as a snow image. + +"Come," he urged. "May I not find for you those opportunities?" + +He put out his eager hand as if to touch her. Then suddenly the figure +in the window came to life and shrank back, with widely opened eyes +fixed upon his face. His gaze could not withstand hers, man of the +world though he was, and his free manner was replaced by something +resembling momentary embarrassment. Conscious of this new and annoying +feeling, his egotism rose in arms, as if protesting against the novel +sensation, and his next words were correspondingly violent. + +"Put off your stage manners!" he exclaimed. "You are here at my +pleasure. It was no whim, my carrying you off. After you left I went +to the manor, where I tried to forget you. But nights of revelry--why +should I not confess it?--could not efface your memory." His voice +unconsciously sank to unreserved candor. "Your presence filled these +halls. I could no longer say: Why should I trouble myself about one +who has no thought for me?" + +Breathing hard, he paused, gazing beyond her, as though renewing the +memories of that period. + +"Learning you were in the neighboring town," he continued, "I went +there, with no further purpose than to see you. On the journey perhaps +I indulged in foolish fancies. How would you receive me? Would you be +pleased; annoyed? So I tempted my fancy with air-castles like the most +unsophisticated lover. But you had no word of welcome; scarcely +listened to me, and hurried away! I could not win you as I desired; +the next best way was this." + +He concluded with an impassioned gesture, his gaze eagerly seeking the +first sign of lenity or favor on her part, but his confession seemed +futile. Her eyes, suggestive of tender possibilities, expressed now +but coldness and obduracy. In a revulsion of feeling he forgot the +distance separating the buskined from the fashionable world; the +tragic scatterlings from the conventions of Vanity Fair! He forgot all +save that she was to him now the one unparagoned entirety, overriding +other memories. + +"Will not a life of devotion atone for this day, Constance?" he cried. +"Do you know how far-reaching are these lands? All the afternoon you +drove through them, and they extend as wide in the other direction. +These--my name--are yours!" + +A shade of color swept over her brow. + +"Answer me," he urged. + +"Drive back and I will answer you." + +"Drive back and you will laugh at me," he retorted, moodily. "You +would make a woman's bargain with me." + +"Is yours a man's with me?" Contemptuously. + +"What more can I do?" + +"Undo what you have done. Take me back!" + +"I would cut a nice figure doing that! No; you shall stay here." + +He spoke angrily; her disdain at his proposal not only injured his +pride but awoke his animosity. On the other hand, his words +demonstrated she had not improved her own position. If he meant to +keep her there he could do so, and opposition made him only more +obstinate, more determined to press his advantage. Had she been more +politic--Juliana off the stage as well as on--she, whose artifice was +glossed by artlessness-- + +Her lashes drooped; her attitude became less aggressive; her eyes, +from beneath their dark curtains, rested on him for a moment. What it +was in that glance so effective is not susceptible to analysis. Was it +the appeal that awakened the quixotic sense of honor; the helplessness +arousing compassion; the irresistible quality of a brimming eye so +fatal to masculine calculation and positiveness? Whatever it was, it +dispelled the contraction on the land baron's face, and--despite his +threats, vows!--he was swayed by a look. + +"Forgive me," he said, tenderly. + +"You will drive back?" + +"Yes; I will win you in your own way, fairly and honestly! I will take +you back, though the whole country laughs at me. Win or lose, back we +go, for--I love you!" And impetuously he threw his arm around her +waist. + +Simulation could not stand the test; it was no longer acting, but +reality; she had set herself to a role she could not perform. Hating +him for that free touch, she forcibly extricated herself with an +exclamation and an expression of countenance there was no mistaking. +From Mauville's face the glad light died; he regarded her once more +cruelly, vindictively. + +"You dropped the mask too soon," he said, coldly. "I was not prepared +for rehearsal, although you were perfect. You are even a better +actress than I thought you, than which"--mockingly--"I can pay you no +better compliment." + +She looked at him with such scorn he laughed, though his eyes +flashed. + +"Bravo!" he exclaimed. + +While thus confronting each other a footfall sounded without, the door +burst open, and the driver of the coach, with features drawn by fear, +unceremoniously entered the room. The patroon turned on him enraged, +but the latter without noticing his master's displeasure, exclaimed +hurriedly: + +"The anti-renters are coming!" + +The actress uttered a slight cry and stepped toward the window, when +she was drawn back by an irresistible force. + +"Pardon me," said a hard voice, from which all passing compunction had +vanished. "Be kind enough to come with me." + +"I will follow you, but--" Her face expressed the rest. + +"This way then!" + +He released her and together they mounted the stairway. For a long +time a gentle footfall had not passed those various landings; not +since the ladies in hoops, with powdered hair, had ascended or +descended, with attendant cavaliers, bewigged, beruffled, bedizened. +The land baron conducted his companion to a distant room up stairs, +the door of which he threw open. + +"Go in there," he said curtly. + +She hesitated on the threshold. So remote was it from the main part of +the great manor, the apartment had all the requirements of a prison. + +"You needn't fear," he continued, reading her thoughts. "I'm not going +to be separated from you--yet! But we can see what is going on here." + +Again she mutely obeyed him, and entered the room. It was a commodious +apartment, where an excellent view was offered of the surrounding +country on three sides. But looking from the window to discern his +assailants, Mauville could see nothing save the fields and openings, +fringed by the dark groves. The out-houses and barns were but dimly +outlined, while scattered trees here and there dotted the open spaces +with small, dark patches. A single streak of red yet lingered in the +west. A tiny spot, moving through the obscurity, proved to be a cow, +peacefully wandering over the dewy grass. The whirring sound of a +diving night-hawk gave evidence that a thing of life was inspecting +the scene from a higher point of vantage. + +From that narrow, dark crimson ribbon, left behind by the flaunting +sun, a faint reflection entered the great open windows of the chamber +and revealed Mauville gazing without, pistol in hand; Constance +leaning against the curtains and the driver of the coach standing in +the center of the room, quaking inwardly and shaking outwardly. This +last-named had found an old blunderbuss somewhere, useful once +undoubtedly, but of questionable service now. + +Meanwhile Oly-koeks had not returned. Having faithfully closed and +locked all the iron shutters, he had crept out of a cellar window and +voluntarily resigned as care-taker of the manor, with its burden of +dangers and vexations. With characteristic prudence, he had timed the +period of his departure with the beginning of the end in the fortunes +of the old patroon principality. The storm-cloud, gathering during the +life of Mauville's predecessor, was now ready to burst, the impending +catastrophe hastened by the heir's want of discretion and his failure +to adjust difficulties amicably. That small shadow, followed by a +smaller shadow, passing through the field, were none other than +Oly-koeks and Oloffe, who grew more and more imperceptible until they +were finally swallowed up and seemingly lost forever in the darkness +of the fringe of the forest. + +A branch of a tree grated against the window as Mauville looked out +over the peaceful vale to the ribbon of red that was being slowly +withdrawn as by some mysterious hand. Gradually this adornment, +growing shorter and shorter, was wound up while the shadows of the +out-houses became deeper and the meadow lands appeared to recede in +the distance. As he scanned the surrounding garden, the land baron's +eye fell upon an indistinct figure stealing slowly across the sward in +the partial darkness. This object was immediately followed by another +and yet another. To the observer's surprise they wore the headgear of +Indians. + +Suddenly the patroon heard the note of the whippoorwill, the nocturnal +songster that mourns unseen. It was succeeded by the sharp tones of a +saw-whet and the distinct mew of a cat-bird. A wild pigeon began to +coo softly in another direction and was answered by a thrush. The +listener vaguely realized that all this unexpected melody came from +the Indians, who had by this time surrounded the house and who took +this method of communicating with one another. + +An interval of portentous silence was followed by a loud knocking at +the front door, which din reverberated through the hall, echoing and +re-echoing the vigorous summons. Mauville at this leaned from the +window and as he did so, there arose a hooting from the sward as +though bedlam had broken loose. Maintaining his post, the heir called +out: + +"What do you want, men?" + +At these words the demonstration became more turbulent, and, amid the +threatening hubbub, voices arose, showing too well the purpose of the +gathering. Aroused to a fever of excitement by the shooting of the +tenants, they were no longer skulking, stealthy Indians, but a riotous +assemblage of anti-renters, expressing their determination in an +ominous chorus: + +"Hang the land baron!" + +In the midst of this far from reassuring uproar a voice arose like a +trumpet: + +"We are the messengers of the Lord, made strong by His wrath!" + +"You are the messenger of the devil, Little Thunder," Mauville shouted +derisively. + +A crack of a rifle admonished the land baron that the jest might have +cost him dear. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ATTACK ON THE MANOR + + +After this brief hostile outbreak in the garden below the right wing, +Mauville prepared to make as effective defense as lay in his power and +looked around for his aid, the driver of the coach. But that quaking +individual had taken advantage of the excitement to disappear. Upon +hearing the threats, followed by the singing of bullets, and doubting +not the same treatment accorded the master would be meted out to the +servant, the coachman's fealty so oozed from him that he dropped his +blunderbuss, groping his way through the long halls to the cellar, +where he concealed himself in an out-of-the-way corner beneath a heap +of potato sacks. In that vast subterranean place he congratulated +himself he would escape with a whole skin, his only regret being +certain unpaid wages which he considered as good as lost, together +with the master who owed them. + +Mauville, however, would have little regretted the disappearance of +this poor-spirited aid, on the theory a craven follower is worse than +none at all, had not this discovery been followed quickly by the +realization that the young girl, too, had availed herself of the +opportunity while he was at the window and vanished. + +"Why, the slippery jade's gone!" he exclaimed, staring around the +room, confounded for the moment. Then recovering himself, he hurriedly +left the chamber, more apprehensive lest she should get out of the +manor than that the tenants should get in. + +"She can't be far off," he thought, pausing doubtfully in the hall. + +For the moment he almost forgot the anti-renters and determined to +find her at all hazard. He hastily traversed the upper hall, but was +rewarded with no sight of her. He gazed down the stairs eagerly, with +no better result; the front door was still closed, as he had left it. +Evidently she had fled toward the rear of the house and made good her +escape from one of the back or side entrances. + +"Yes; she's gone," he repeated. "What a fool I was to have trusted her +to herself for a moment!" + +A new misgiving arose, and he started. What if she had succeeded in +leaving the manor? He knew and distrusted Little Thunder and his +cohorts. What respect would they have for her? For all he had done, it +was, nevertheless, intolerable to think she might be in possible +danger--from others save himself! A wave of compunction swept over +him. After all, he loved her, and, loving her, could not bear to think +of any calamity befalling her. He hated her for tricking him; feared +for her, for the pass to which he had brought her; cared for her +beyond the point his liking had reached for any other woman. A +mirthless laugh escaped him as he stood at the stairway looking down +the empty hall. + +"Surely I've gone daft over the stroller!" he thought, as his own +position recurred to him in all its seriousness. "Well, what's done is +done! Let them come!" His eyes gleamed. + +With no definite purpose of searching further, he nevertheless walked +mechanically down the corridor toward the other side of the manor and +suddenly, to his surprise and satisfaction, discerned Constance in a +blind passage, where she had inadvertently fled. + +At the end of this narrow hall a window looked almost directly out +upon the circular, brick dove-cote, now an indistinct outline, and on +both sides were doors, one of which she was vainly endeavoring to open +when he approached. Immediately she desisted in her efforts; flushed +and panting, she stood in the dim light of the passage. Quiet, +unbroken save for the cooing in the cote, had succeeded the first +noisy demonstration; the anti-renters were evidently arranging their +forces to prevent the land baron's escape or planning an assault on +the manor. + +In his momentary satisfaction at finding her, Mauville overlooked the +near prospect of a more lengthy, if not final, separation, and +surveyed the young girl with a sudden, swift joyousness, but the fear +and distrust written on her features dissipated his concern for her; +his best impulses were smothered by harsher feelings. + +"Unfortunately, the door is locked," he said, ironically. "Meanwhile, +as this spot has no strategic advantages, suppose we change our base +of defense?" + +Realizing how futile would be resistance, she accompanied him once +more to the chamber in the wing, where he had determined to make his +last defense. After closing and locking the door, he lighted one of +many candles on the mantel. The uncertain glow from the great +candelabra, covered with dust, like the white marble itself, and +evidently placed there many years before, revealed faded decorations +and a ceiling, water-stained as from a defective roof. Between the +windows, with flowery gilt details, an ancient mirror extended from +floor to ceiling. A musty smell pervaded the apartment, for Mynheer, +the Patroon, had lived so closely to himself that he had shut out both +air and sunlight from his rooms. + +The flickering glare fell upon the young actress standing, hand upon +her heart, listening with bated breath, and Mauville, with ominous +expression, brooding over that chance which sent the lease-holders to +the manor on that night of nights. It was intolerable that no sooner +had she crossed his threshold than they should appear, ripe for any +mischief, not only seeking his life, but wresting happiness from his +very lips. For, of the outcome he could have little doubt, although +determined to sell dearly that which they sought. + +The violent crash of a heavy body at the front of the house and a +tumult of voices on the porch, succeeded by a din in the hall, announced +that the first barrier had been overcome and the anti-renters were in +possession of the lower floor of the manor. Mauville had started toward +the door, when the anticipation in the young girl's eyes held him to +the spot. Inaccessible, she was the more desired; her reserve was +fuel to his flame, and, at that moment, while his life hung in the +balance, he forgot the rebuff he had received and how she had nearly +played upon him. + +Words fell from his lips, unpremeditated, eloquent, voicing those +desires which had grown in the solitude of the manor. Passionately he +addressed her, knowing the climax to his difficulties was at hand. +Once near her, he could not be at peace without her, he vowed, and +this outcome had been inevitable. All this he uttered impetuously, at +times incoherently, but as he concluded, she only clasped her hands +helplessly, solely conscious of the uproar below which spread from the +main hall to the adjoining rooms. + +"They are coming--they are coming!" she said, and Mauville stopped +short. + +But while anger and resentment were at strife within him, some one +tried the door of the chamber and finding it locked, set up a shout. +Immediately the prowlers in the wings, the searchers in the kitchen +and all the stragglers below congregated in the main hall; footsteps +were heard ascending rapidly, pausing in doubt at the head of the +stairway, not knowing whether to turn to the right or to the left. + +"Here they are!" called out the man at the door. + +"You meddlesome fool!" exclaimed Mauville, lifting a revolver and +discharging it in the direction of the voice. Evidently the bullet, +passing through the panel of the door, found its mark, for the report +was followed by a cry of pain. + +This plaint was answered from the distance and soon a number of +anti-renters hastened to the spot. Mauville, in vicious humor, moved +toward the threshold. One of the panels was already broken and an arm +thrust into the opening. The land baron bent forward and coolly +clapped his weapon to the member, the loud discharge being succeeded +by a howl from the wounded lease-holder. Mauville again raised his +weapon when an exclamation from the actress caused him to turn +quickly, in time to see a figure spring unexpectedly into the room +from the balcony. The land baron stood in amazement, eying the +intruder who had appeared so suddenly from an unguarded quarter, but +before he could recover his self-possession, his hand was struck +heavily and the revolver fell with a clatter to the floor. + +His assailant quickly grasped the weapon, presenting it to the breast +of the surprised land-owner, who looked, not into the face of an +unknown anti-renter, but into the stern, familiar countenance of +Saint-Prosper. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A HASTY EXIT + + +The afternoon following the soldier's departure from the patroon +village went by all too slowly, his jaded horse's feet as heavy as the +leaden moments. That he had not long since overtaken the coach was +inexplicable, unless Susan had been a most tardy messenger. True, at +the fork of the road he had been misled, but should before this have +regained what he had lost, unless he was once more on the wrong +thoroughfare. As night fell, the vastness of the new world impressed +the soldier as never before; not a creature had he met since leaving +the patroon village; she whom he sought might have been swallowed up +in the immensity of the wilderness. For the first time his task seemed +as if it might be to no purpose; his confidence of the morning had +gradually been replaced by consuming anxiety. He reproached himself +that he had not pressed his inquiries further at the patroon village, +but realized it was now too late for regrets; go on he must and +should. + +Along the darkening road horse and rider continued their way. Only +at times the young man pulled at the reins sharply, as the animal +stumbled from sheer weariness. With one hand he stroked encouragingly +the foam-flecked arch of the horse's neck; the other, holding the +reins, was clenched like a steel glove. Leaving the brow of a +hill, the horseman expectantly fixed his gaze ahead, when suddenly on +his right, a side thoroughfare lay before him. As he drew rein +indecisively at the turn, peering before him through the gathering +darkness, a voice from the trees called out unexpectedly: + +"Hitch up in here!" + +At this peremptory summons the soldier gazed quickly in the direction +of the speaker. Through the grove, where the trees were so slender and +sparsely planted the eye could penetrate the thicket, he saw a band of +horsemen dismounting and tying their animals. There was something +unreal, grotesque even, in their appearance, but it was not until one +of their number stepped from the shadow of the trees into the clearer +light of the road that he discerned their head-dress and garb to be +that of Indians. Recalling all he had heard of the masquerading, +marauding excursions of the anti-renters, the soldier at once +concluded he had encountered a party of them, bent upon some nefarious +expedition. That he was taken for one of their number seemed equally +evident. + +"Come!" called out the voice again, impatiently. "The patroon is at +the manor with his city trollop. It's time we were moving." + +An exclamation fell from the soldier's lips. The patroon!--his +ill-disguised admiration for the actress!--his abrupt reappearance +the night of the temperance drama! Any uncertainty Saint-Prosper +might have felt regarding the identity of him he sought, or the +reason for that day's work, now became compelling certitude. But for +the tenants, he might have ridden by the old patroon house. As it +was, congratulating himself upon this accidental meeting rather than +his own shrewdness, he quickly dismounted. A moment's thought, and he +followed the lease-holders. + +In the attack on the manor, his purpose, apart from theirs, led him to +anticipate the general movement of the anti-renters in front of the +house and to make his way alone, aided by fortuitous circumstances, to +the room where the land baron had taken refuge. As he sprang into this +chamber the young girl's exclamation of fear was but the prelude to an +expression of gladness, while Mauville's consternation when he found +himself disarmed and powerless, was as great as his surprise. For a +moment, therefore, in his bearing bravado was tempered with +hesitancy. + +"You here?" stammered the land baron, as he involuntarily recoiled +from his own weapon. + +The soldier contemptuously thrust the revolver into his pocket. "As +you see," he said coldly, "and in a moment, they"--indicating the +door--"will be here!" + +"You think to turn me over to them!" exclaimed the other violently. +"But you do not know me! This is no quarrel of yours. Give me my +weapon, and let me fight it out with them!" + +The soldier's glance rested for a moment on the young girl and his +face grew stern and menacing. + +"By heaven, I am half-minded to take you at your word! But you shall +have one chance--a slender one! There is the window; it opens on the +portico!" + +"And if I refuse?" + +"They have brought a rope with them. Go, or hang!" + +The heir hesitated, but as he pondered, the anti-renters were +effectually shattering the heavy door, regaling themselves with +threats taught them by the politicians who had advocated their cause +on the stump, preached it in the legislature, or grown eloquent over +it in the constitutional assembly. + +"The serfs are here! The drawers of water and hewers of wood have +arisen! Hang the land baron! Hang the feudal lord!" + +A braver man than Mauville might have been cowed by that chorus. But +after pausing irresolutely, weighing the chances of life and death, +gazing jealously upon the face of the apprehensive girl, and +venomously at the intruder, the heir finally made a virtue of +necessity and strode to the window. With conflicting emotions +struggling in his mind--fury toward the lease-holders, hatred for the +impassive mediator--he yet regained, in a measure, an outwardly calm +bearing. + +[Illustration] + +"It's a poor alternative," he said, shortly, flashing a last glance at +the actress. "But it's the best that offers!" + +So saying, he sprang upon the balcony--none too soon, for a moment +later the door burst open and an incongruous element rushed into the +room. Many were attired in outlandish head-dresses, embroidered +moccasins and fringed jackets, their faces painted in various hues, +but others, of a bolder spirit, had disdained all subterfuge of +disguise. Not until then did the soldier discover that he had +overlooked the possible unpleasantness of remaining in the land +baron's stead, for the anti-renters promptly threw themselves upon +him, regardless of his companion. The first to grapple with him was a +herculean, thick-ribbed man, of extraordinary stature, taller than the +soldier, if not so well-knit; a Goliath, indeed, as Scroggs had deemed +him, with arms long as windmills. + +"Stand back, lads," he roared, "and let me throw him!" And Dick, the +tollman, rushed at Saint-Prosper with furious attack; soon they were +chest to chest, each with his chin on his opponent's right shoulder, +and each grasping the other around the body with joined hands. + +Dick's muscles grew taut, like mighty whip-cords; his chest expanded +with power; he girded his loins for a great effort, and it seemed as +if he would make good his boast. Held in the grasp of those arms, +tight as iron bands, the soldier staggered. Once more the other heaved +and again Saint-Prosper nearly fell, his superior agility alone saving +him. + +Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, the soldier managed to face to the +right, twisting so as to place his left hip against his adversary--his +only chance; a trick of wrestling unknown to his herculean, but clumsy +opponent. Gathering all his strength in a last determined effort, he +stooped forward suddenly and lifted in his turn. One portentous +moment--a moment of doubt and suspense--and the proud representative +of the barn-burners was hurled over the shoulder of the soldier, +landing with a crash on the floor where he lay, dazed and immovable. + +Breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with labored effort, +Saint-Prosper fell back against the wall. The anti-renters quickly +recovering from their surprise, gave him no time to regain his +strength, and the contest promised a speedy and disastrous conclusion +for the soldier, when suddenly a white figure flashed before him, +confronting the tenants with pale face and shining eyes. A slender +obstacle; only a girlish form, yet the fearlessness of her manner, the +eloquence of her glance--for her lips were silent!--kept them back for +the instant. + +But fiercer passions were at work among them, the desire for +retaliation and bitter hatred of the patroon, which speedily +dissipated any feeling of compunction or any tendency to waver, + +"Kill him before his lady love!" cried a piercing voice from behind. +"Did they not murder my husband before me? Kill him, if you are men!" + +And pressing irresistibly to the front appeared the woman whose +husband had been shot by the deputies. Her features, once soft and +matronly, flamed with uncontrollable passions. + +"Are only the poor to suffer?" she continued, as her, burning eyes +fell on the young girl. "Shall she not feel what I did?" + +"Back woman!" exclaimed one of the barn-burners, sternly. "This is no +place for you." + +"Who has a better right to be here?" retorted the woman. + +"But this is not woman's work!" + +"Woman's work!" Fiercely. "As much woman's work as for his trull to +try to save him! Oh? let me see him!" + +Gently the soldier, now partly recovering his strength, thrust the +young girl behind him, as pushing to the foreground the woman regarded +him vengefully. But in her eyes the hatred and bitter aversion faded +slowly, to be replaced by perplexity, which in turn gave way to +wonder, while the uplifted arm, raised threateningly against him, fell +passively to her side. At first, astonished, doubting, she did not +speak, then her lips moved mechanically. + +"That is not the land baron," she cried, staring at him in disappointment +that knew no language. + +"The woman is right," added a masquerader. "I know Mauville, too, for +he told me to go to the devil when I asked him to wait for his rent." + +At this unexpected announcement, imprecations and murmurs of +incredulity were heard on all sides. + +"Woman, would you shield your husband's murderer?" exclaimed an +over-zealous barn-burner. + +"Shield him!" she retorted, as if aroused from a trance. "No, no! I'm +not here for that! But this is not the patroon. His every feature is +burned into my heart! I tell you it is not he. Yet he should be here. +Did I not see him driving toward the manor?" And she gazed wildly +around. + +For a moment, following this impassioned outburst, their rough glances +sought one another's, and the soldier quickly took advantage of this +cessation of hostilities. + +"No; I am not the land baron," he interposed. + +"You aren't?" growled a disappointed lease-holder. "Then who the devil +are you? An anti-renter?" he added, suspiciously. + +"He must be an enemy of the land baron," interrupted the woman, +passing her hand across her brow. "He was with us in the grove. I saw +him ride up and took him to be a barn-burner. He crossed the meadow +with us. I saw his face; distinctly as I see it now! He asked me about +the patroon--yes, I remember now!--and what was she like, the woman +who was with him!" + +"I am no friend of his," continued the soldier in a firm voice. "You +had one purpose in seeking him; I, another! He carried off this lady. +I was following him, when I met you in the grove." + +"Then how came you here--in this room?" + +"By the way of a tree, the branch of which reaches to the window." + +"The land baron was in this room a moment ago. Where is he now?" + +For answer Saint-Prosper pointed to the window. + +"Then you let him--" + +"We're wasting time," impatiently shouted the barn-burner who had +disclaimed the soldier's identity to the patroon. "Come!" With an +oath. "Do you want to lose him after all? He can't be far away. And +this one, damn him! isn't our man!" + +For a second the crowd wavered, then with a vengeful shout they shot +from the room, disappearing as quickly as they had come. Led by Little +Thunder, who, being a man of peace, had discreetly remained without, +they had reached the gate in their headlong pursuit when they were met +by a body of horsemen, about to turn into the yard as the anti-renters +were hurrying out. At sight of this formidable band, the lease-holders +immediately scattered. Taken equally by surprise, the others made +little effort to intercept them and soon they had vanished over field +and down dell. Then the horsemen turned, rode through the avenue of +trees, and drew up noisily before the portico. + +From their window the soldier and his companion observed the abrupt +encounter at the entrance of the manor grounds and the dispersion of +the lease-holders like leaves before the autumn gusts. Constance, who +had breathlessly watched the flight of the erstwhile assailants, felt +her doubts reawakened as the horsemen drew up before the door. + +"Are they coming back?" she asked, involuntarily clasping the arm of +her companion. + +She who had been so courageous and self-controlled throughout that +long, trying day, on a sudden felt strangely weak and dependent. He +leaned from the narrow casement to command the view below, striving to +pierce the gloom, and she, following his example, gazed over his +shoulder. Either a gust of air had extinguished the light in the +candelabra on the mantel, or the tallow dip had burnt itself out, for +the room was now in total darkness so that they could dimly see, +without being seen. + +"These men are not the ones who just fled," he replied. + +"Then who are they?" she half-whispered, drawing unconsciously closer +in that moment of jeopardy, her face distant but a curl's length. + +Below the men were dismounting, tying their horses among the trees. +Like a noisy band of troopers they were talking excitedly, but their +words were indistinguishable. + +"Why do you suppose they fled from them?" she continued. + +Was it a tendril of the vine that touched his cheek gently? He +started, his face toward the haze in the open borderland. + +"Clearly these men are not the lease-holders. They may be seeking +you." + +She turned eagerly from the window. In the darkness their hands met. +Momentary compunction made her pause. + +"I haven't yet thanked you!" And he felt the cold, nervous pressure of +her hands on his. "You must have ridden very hard and very far!" + +His hand closed suddenly upon one of hers. He was not thinking of the +ride, but of how she had placed herself beside him in his moment of +peril; how she had held them--not long--but a moment--yet long +enough! + +"They're coming in! They're down stairs!" she exclaimed excitedly. + +A flickering light below suddenly threw dim moving shadows upon the +ceiling of the hall. As she spoke she stepped forward and stumbled +over the debris at the door. His arm was about her, almost before the +startled exclamation had fallen from her lips; for a moment her +shapely, young figure rested against him. But quickly she extricated +herself, and they picked their way cautiously over the bestrewn +threshold out into the hall. + +At the balustrade, they paused. Reconnoitering at the turn, they were +afforded full survey of the lower hall where the latest comers had +taken possession. Few in numbers, the gathering had come to a dead +stop, regarding in surprise the broken door, and the furniture +wantonly demolished. But amid this scene of rack and ruin, an object +of especial wonder to the newcomers was the great lifting-stone lying +in the hall amid the havoc it had wrought. + +"No one but Dick, the tollman, could have thrown that against the +door!" said a little man who seemed a person of authority. "I wonder +where the patroon can be?" + +With unusual pallor of face the young girl stepped from behind the +sheltering post. Her hand, resting doubtfully upon the balustrade, +sought in unconscious appeal her companion's arm, as they descended +together the broad steps. In the partial darkness the little man ill +discerned the figures, but divined their bearing in the relation of +outlines limned against the obscure background. + +"Why," he muttered in surprise, "this is not the patroon! And here, if +I am not mistaken, is the lady Mr. Barnes is so anxious about." + +"Mr. Barnes--he is with you?" + +It was Constance that spoke. + +"Yes; but--" + +"Where is he?" + +"We left him a ways down the road and--" + +The sound of a horse's hoof beats in front of the manor, breaking in +on this explanation, was followed by hurried footsteps upon the porch. +The newcomer paused on the threshold, when, with an exclamation of +joy, Constance rushed to him, and in a moment was clasped in the arms +of the now jubilant Barnes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE COUNCIL AT THE TOWN PUMP + + +Next morning the sun had made but little progress in the heavens and +the dew was not yet off the grass when the party, an imposing +cavalcade, issued from the manor on the return journey. Their +home-coming was uneventful. The barn-burners had disappeared like +rabbits in their holes; the manor whose master had fled, deserted even +by the faithful Oly-koeks, was seen for the last time from the brow of +the hill, and then, with its gables and extensive wings, vanished from +sight. + +"Well," remarked Barnes as they sped down the road, "it was a happy +coincidence for me that led the anti-renters to the patroon's house +last night." + +And he proceeded to explain how when he had sought the magistrate, he +found that official organizing a _posse comitatus_ for the purpose of +quelling an anticipated uprising of lease-holders. In answer to the +manager's complaint the custodian of the law had asserted his first +duty was generally to preserve the peace; afterward, he would attend +to Barnes' particular grievance. Obliged to content himself as best +he might with this meager assurance, the manager, at his wit's end, +had accompanied the party whose way had led them in the direction the +carriage had taken, and whose final destination--an unhoped-for +consummation!--had proved the ultimate goal of his own desires. + +On reaching, that afternoon, the town where they were playing, Susan +was the first of the company to greet Constance. + +"Now that it's all over," she laughed, "I rather envy you that you +were rescued by such a handsome cavalier." + +"Really," drawled Kate, "I should have preferred not being rescued. +The owner of a coach, a coat of arms, silver harness, and the best +horses in the country! I could drive on forever." + +But later, alone with Susan, she looked hard at her: + +"So you fainted yesterday?" + +"Oh, I'm a perfect coward," returned the other, frankly. + +Kate's mind rapidly swept the rough and troubled past; the haphazard +sea upon which they had embarked so long ago-- + +"Dear me!" she remarked quietly, and Susan turned to conceal a blush. + +Owing to the magistrate's zeal in relating the story of the rescue, +the players' success that night was great. + +"The hall was filled to overflowing," says the manager in his date +book. "At the end of the second act, the little girl was called out, +and much to her inward discomfiture the magistrate presented her with +a bouquet and the audience with a written speech. Taking advantage of +the occasion, he pointed a political moral from the tale, and referred +to his own candidacy to the legislature, where he would look after the +interests of the rank and file. It was time the land-owners were +taught their places--not by violence--Oh, no--no French methods for +Americans!--by ballot, not by bullet! Let the people vote for an +amendment to the constitution! + +"As we were preparing to leave the theater, the magistrate appeared +behind the scenes. 'Of course, Mr. Barnes, you will appear against the +patroon?' he said. 'His prosecution will do much to fortify the +issue.' + +"'That is all very fine,' I returned, satirically. 'But will the Lord +provide while we are trying the case? Shall we find miraculous +sustenance? We live by moving on, sir. One or two nights in a place; +sometimes, a little longer! No, no; 'tis necessary to forget, if not +to forgive. You'll have to fortify your issue without us.' + +"'Well, well,' he said, good-naturedly, 'if it's against your +interests, I have no wish to press the matter.' Whereupon we shook +hands heartily and parted. I looked around for Constance, but she had +left the hall with Saint-Prosper. Have I been wise in asking him to +join the chariot? I sometimes half regret we are beholden to him--" + +From the Shadengo Valley Barnes' company proceeded by easy stages to +Ohio, where the roads were more difficult than any the chariot had yet +encountered. On every hand, as they crossed the country, sounded the +refrains of that memorable song-campaign which gave to the state the +fixed sobriquet of "Buckeye." Drawing near the capital, where the +convention was to be held, a log cabin, on an enormous wagon, passed +the chariot. A dozen horses fancifully adorned were harnessed to this +novel vehicle; flowers over-ran the cabin-home, hewn from the buckeye +logs of the forest near Marysville. In every window appeared the faces +of merry lads and lasses, and, as they journeyed on, their chorus +echoed over field and through forest. The wood-cutter leaned on his ax +to listen; the plowman waved his coonskin cap, his wife, a red +handkerchief from the doorway of their log cabin. + + "Oh, tell me where the Buckeye cabin was made? + 'Twas built among the boys who wield the plow and spade, + Where the log-cabin stands in the bonnie Buckeye shade." + +From lip to lip the song had been carried, until the entire country +was singing it, and the log-cabin had become a part of the armorial +bearings of good citizenship, especially applicable to the crests of +presidents. Well might the people ask: + + "Oh, what has caused this great commotion + All the country through?" + +which the ready chorus answered: + + "It is a ball a-rolling on + For Tippecanoe and Tyler, too!" + +The least of the strollers' troubles at this crucial period of their +wanderings were the bad roads or the effects of song and log-cabin +upon the "amusement world," the greatest being a temperance orator who +thundered forth denunciations of rum and the theater with the +bitterness of a Juvenal inveighing profligate Rome. The people crowded +the orator's hall, upon the walls of which hung the customary banners: +a serpent springing from the top of a barrel; the steamboat, Alcohol, +bursting her boiler and going to pieces, and the staunch craft, +Temperance, safe and sound, sailing away before a fair wind. With +perfect self-command, gift of mimicry and dramatic gestures, the +lecturer swayed his audience; now bubbling over with witty anecdotes, +again exercising his power of graphic portraiture. His _elixir +vitae_--animal spirits--humanized his effort, and, as Sir Robert Peel +played upon the House of Commons "as on an old fiddle," so John B. +Gough (for it was the versatile comic singer, actor and speaker) +sounded the chords of that homely gathering. + +Whatever he was, "poet, orator and dramatist, an English Gavazzi," or, +"mountebank," "humbug," or "backslider," Mr. Gough was, even at that +early period, an antagonist not to be despised. He had been out of +pocket and out at the elbows--indeed, his wardrobe now was mean and +scanty; want and privation had been his companions, and, from his +grievous experiences, he had become a sensational story-teller of low +life and penury. Certainly Barnes had reason to lament the coincidence +which brought players and lecturer into town at the same time, +especially as the latter was heralded under the auspices of the Band +of Hope. + +The temperance lectures and a heavy rain combined to the undoing of +the strollers. Majestically the dark clouds rolled up, outspread like +a pall, and the land lay beneath the ban of a persistent downpour. +People remained indoors, for the most part, and the only signs of life +Barnes saw from the windows of the hotel were the landlord's +Holderness breed of cattle, mournfully chewing their monotonous cuds, +and some Leicester sheep, wofully wandering in the pasture, or huddled +together like balls of stained cotton beneath the indifferent +protection of a tree amid field. + +Exceptional inducements could not tempt the villagers to the theater. +Even an epilogue gained for them none of Mr. Gough's adherents. "The +Temperance Doctor" failed miserably; "Drunkard's Warning" admonished +pitiably few; while as for "Drunkard's Doom," no one cared what it +might be and left him to it. + +After such a disastrous engagement the manager not only found himself +at the end of his resources, but hopelessly indebted, and, with much +reluctance, laid the matter before the soldier who had already +advanced Barnes a certain sum after their conversation on the night +of the country dance and had also come to his assistance on an +occasion when box-office receipts and expenses had failed to meet. +Moreover, he had been a free, even careless, giver, not looking after +his business concerns with the prudent anxiety of a merchant whose +ventures are ships at the rude mercy of a troubled sea. To this third +application, however, he did not answer immediately. + +"Is it as bad as that?" he said at length, thoughtfully. + +"Yes; it's hard to speak about it to you," replied the manager, with +some embarrassment, "but at New Orleans--" + +The soldier encountered his troubled gaze. "See if you can sell my +horse," he answered. + +"You mean--" began the other surprised. + +"Yes." + +"Hanged if I will!" exclaimed the manager. Then he put out his hand +impulsively. "I beg your pardon. If I had known--but if we're ever out +of this mess, I may give a better account of my stewardship." + +Nevertheless, his plight now was comparable to that of the strollers +of old, hunted by beadles from towns and villages, and classed as +gypsies, vagabonds and professed itinerants by the constables. He was +no better served than the mummers, clowns, jugglers, and petty chapmen +who, wandering abroad, were deemed rogues and sturdy beggars. Yet no +king's censor could have found aught "unchaste, seditious or unmete" +in Barnes' plays; no cause for frays or quarrels, arising from pieces +given in the old inn-yards; no immoral matter, "whatsoever any light +and fantastical head listeth to invent or devise;" no riotous actors +of rollicking interludes, to be named in common with fencers, +bearwards and vagrants. + +"Better give it up, Mr. Barnes," said a remarkably sweet and +sympathetic voice, as the manager was standing in the hotel office, +turning the situation over and over in his mind. + +Barnes, looking around quickly to see who had read his inmost +thoughts, met the firm glance of his antagonist. + +"Mr. Gough, it is an honor to meet one of your talents," replied the +manager, "but"--with an attempt to hide his concern--"I shall not be +sorry, if we do not meet again." + +"An inhospitable wish!" answered the speaker, fixing his luminous eyes +upon the manager. "However, we shall probably see each other +frequently." + +"The Fates forbid, sir!" said Barnes, earnestly. "If you'll tell me +your route, we'll--go the other way!" + +"It won't do, Mr. Barnes! The devil and the flesh must be fairly +fought. 'Where thou goest'--You know the scriptural saying?" + +"You'll follow us!" exclaimed the manager with sudden consternation. + +The other nodded. + +"Why, this is tyranny! You are a Frankenstein; an Old-Man-of-the +Sea!" + +"Give it up," said the orator, with a smile that singularly illumined +his thin, but powerful features. "As I gave it up! Into what dregs of +vice, what a sink of iniquity was I plunged! The very cleansing of my +soul was an Augean task. Knavery, profligacy, laxity of morals, +looseness of principles--that was what the stage did for me; that was +the labor of Hercules to be cleared away! Give it up, Mr. Barnes!" And +with a last penetrating look, he strode out of the office. + +In spite of Barnes' refusal, the soldier offered to sell his horse to +the landlord, but the latter curtly declined, having horses enough to +"eat their heads off" during the winter, as he expressed it. His +Jeremy Collier aversion to players was probably at the bottom of this +point-blank rebuff, however. He was a stubborn man, czar in his own +domains, a small principality bounded by four inhospitable walls. His +guests--having no other place to go--were his subjects, or prisoners, +and distress could not find a more unfitting tribunal before which to +lay its case. There was something so malevolent in his vigilance, so +unfriendly in his scrutiny, that to the players he seemed an emissary +of disaster, inseparable from their cruel plight. + +Thus it was that the strollers perforce reached a desperate conclusion +when making their way from the theater on the last evening. By +remaining longer, they would become the more hopelessly involved; in +going--without their host's permission--they would be taking the +shortest route toward an honorable settlement in the near future; a +paradoxical flight from the brunt of their troubles, to meet them +squarely! This, to Barnes, ample reason for unceremonious departure +was heartily approved by the company in council assembled around the +town pump. + +"Stay and become a county burden, indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Adams, +tragically. + +"As well be buried alive as anchored here!" fretfully added Susan. + +"The council is dissolved," said the manager, promptly, "with no one +the wiser--except the town pump." + +"An ally of Mr. Gough!" suggested Adonis. + +Thus more merrily than could have been expected, with such a +distasteful enterprise before them, they resumed their way. It was +disagreeable under foot and they presented an odd appearance, each one +with a light. Mrs. Adams, old campaigner that she was, led the way for +the ladies, elastic and chatty as though promenading down Broadway on +a spring morning. With their lanterns and the purpose they had in +view, they likened themselves to a band of conspirators. As Barnes +marched ahead with his light, Susan playfully called him Guy Fawkes, +of gun-powder fame, whereupon his mind almost misgave him concerning +the grave adventure upon which they were embarked. + +The wind was blowing furiously, doors and windows creaked, and all the +demons of unrest were moaning that night in the hubbub of sounds. Save +for a flickering candle in the hall, the tavern was dark, and +landlord and maids had long since retired to rest. Amid the noise of +the rain and the sobbing of the wind, trunks were lowered from the +window; the chariot and property wagon were drawn from the stable yard +and the horses led from their stalls. In a trice they were ready and +the ladies, wrapped in their cloaks, were in the coach. But the +clatter of hoofs, the neighing of a horse, or some other untoward +circumstance, aroused the landlord; a window in the second story shot +up and out popped a head in a night-cap. + +"Here!--What are you about?" cried the man. + +"Leaving!" said the manager, laconically. + +The landlord threw up his arms like Shylock at the loss of his +money-bags. + +"The reckoning!" he exclaimed. "What about the reckoning?" + +"Your pound of flesh, sir!" replied Barnes. + +"My score! My score!" shouted the other. "You would not leave without +settling it!" + +"Go to bed, sir," was the answer, "and let honest people depart +without hindrance. You will be paid out of our first profits." + +But the man was not so easily appeased. "Robbers! Constable!" he +screamed. + +Conceiving it was better to be gone without further parley, having +assured him of their honorable intentions, Barnes was about to lash +the horses, when Kate suddenly exclaimed: + +"Where's Constance?" + +"Isn't she inside?" asked the manager quickly. + +"No; she isn't here." + +"Oh, I sent her back to get something for me I had forgotten," spoke +up Mrs. Adams, "and she hasn't returned yet." + +"Sent her back! Madam, you have ruined everything!" burst out Barnes, +bitterly. + +"Mr. Barnes, I won't be spoken to like a child!" + +"Child, indeed--" + +But the querulous words were not uttered, for, as the manager was +about to leave the box in considerable perturbation, there--gazing down +upon them at a window next to that occupied by the landlord--stood +Constance! + +For a tippet, or a ruff, or some equally wretched frippery, carelessly +left by the old lady, all their plans for deliverance appeared likely +to miscarry. Presumably, Constance, turned from her original purpose +by the noisy altercation, had hurried to the window, where now the +landlord perceived her and immediately availed himself of the +advantage offered. + +"So one of you is left behind," he shouted exultantly. "And it's the +leading lady, too! I'll take care she stays here, until after a +settlement. I'll stop you yet! Stealing away in the middle of the +night, you--you vagabonds!" + +His voice, growing louder and louder, ended in a shrieking crescendo. +Disheartened, there seemed no alternative for the players save to turn +back and surrender unconditionally. Barnes breathed a deep sigh; so +much for a tippet!--their dash for freedom had been but a sorry +attempt!--now he saw visions of prison bars, and uttered a groan, when +the soldier who was riding his own horse dashed forward beneath the +window and stood upright in his stirrups. + +"Do not be afraid, Miss Carew," he said. + +Fortunately the window was low and the distance inconsiderable, but +Barnes held his breath, hoping the hazard would deter her. + +"Do not, my dear!" he began. + +But she did not hesitate; the sight of the stalwart figure and the +strong arms, apparently reassured her, and she stepped upon the sill. + +"Quick!" he exclaimed, and, at the word, she dropped into his +upstretched arms. Scarcely had she escaped, however, before the +landlord was seen at the same window. So astonished was he to find her +gone, surprise at first held him speechless; then he burst into a +volley of oaths that would have shamed a whaler's master. + +"Come back!" he cried. "Come back, or--" The alternative was lost in +vengeful imprecation. + +Holding Constance before him, the soldier resumed his saddle. "Drive +on!" he cried to Barnes, as past the chariot sped his horse, with its +double burden. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE HAND FERRY + + +At a lively gait down the road toward the river galloped the horse +bearing Saint-Prosper and Constance. The thoroughfare was deserted and +the dwelling houses as well as the principal buildings of the town +were absolutely dark. At one place a dog ran out to the front gate, +disturbed by the unusual noise on the road, and barked furiously, but +they moved rapidly on. Now the steeple of the old church loomed +weirdly against the dark background of the sky and then vanished. + +On; on, they went, past the churchyard, with its marble slabs +indistinctly outlined in the darkness, like a phantom graveyard, as +immaterial and ghostlike itself as the spirits of the earliest +settlers at rest there beneath the sod. This was the last indication +of the presence of the town, the final impression to carry away into +the wide country, where the road ran through field and forest. As they +sped along, they plunged into a chasm of blackness, caused by the +trees on both sides of the road which appeared to be constantly +closing upon them. In the darkness of that stygian tunnel, dashing +blindly through threatening obscurity, she yet felt no terrors, for a +band of steel seemed to hold her above some pit of "visible night." + +Out of the tunnel into the comparatively open space, the wind +boomed with all its force, and like an enraged monster, drove the +storm-clouds, now rainless, across the sky. Occasionally the moon +appeared through some aperture, serene, peace-inspiring, momentarily +gilding the dark vapor, and again was swallowed up by another mass of +clouds. A brood of shadows leaped around them, like things of life, +now dancing in the road or pursuing through the tufts of grass, then +vanishing over the meadows or disappearing in murky nooks. But a +moment were they gone and then, marshaled in new numbers, menacing +before and behind, under the very feet of the horse, bidding +defiance to the clattering hoofs. With mane tossed in the angry +wind, and nostrils dilated, the animal neighed with affright, suddenly +leaping aside, as a little nest of unknown dangers lurked and +rustled in the ambush of a drift of animated brush. + +At that abrupt start, the rider swayed; his grasp tightened about the +actress' waist; her arms involuntarily held him closer. Loosened by +the wind and the mad motion, her hair brushed his cheek and fell over +his shoulder, whipped sharply in the breeze. A fiercer gust, sweeping +upon them uproariously, sent all the tresses free, and scudded by with +an exultant shriek. For a time they rode in this wise, her face cold +in the rush of wind; his gaze fixed ahead, striving to pierce the +gloom, and then he drew rein, holding the horse with some difficulty +at a standstill in the center of the thoroughfare. + +With senses numbed by the stirring flight, the young girl had been +oblivious to the firmness of the soldier's sustaining grasp, but now +as they paused in the silent, deserted spot, she became suddenly +conscious of it. The pain--so fast he held her!--made her wince. She +turned her face to his. A glint of light fell on his brow and any +lines that had appeared there were erased in the magical glimmer; +eagerness, youth, passion alone shone upon his features. + +His arm clasped her even yet more closely, as if in the wildness of +the moment he would fiercely draw her to him regardless of all. Did +she understand--that with her face so near his, her hair surrounding +him, her figure pressed in that close embrace--he must needs speak to +her; had, indeed, spoken to her. She was conscious her hand on his +shoulder trembled. Her cheek was no longer cold; abruptly the warm +glow mantled it. Was it but that a momentary calm fell around them; +the temporary hush of the boisterous wind? And yet, when again the +squall swept by with renewed turmoil, her face remained unchilled. She +seemed but a child in his arms. How light her own hand-touch compared +to that compelling grasp with which he held her! She remembered he had +but spoken to her standing in the window, and she had obeyed without a +question--without thought of fear. She longed to spring to the ground +now, to draw herself from him. + +"You can hear the chariot down the road, Miss Carew." + +Quickly her glance returned to his face; his gaze was bent down the +thoroughfare. He spoke so quietly she wondered at her momentary fears; +his voice reassured her. + +A gleam of light shot through a rift in the clouds. + +"Hello-a!" came a welcome voice from the distance. + +"Hello-a!" answered the soldier. + +"You'd better ride on!" shouted the manager. "They're after us!" + +For answer the soldier touched his horse, and now began a race for the +river and the ferry, which were in plain sight, Luna fortunately at +this critical moment sailing from between the vapors and shining from +a clear lake in the sky. The chaste light, out of the angry +convulsions of the heavens, showed the fugitives the road and the +river, winding like a broad band of silver across the darkness of the +earth, its surface rippled into waves by the northern wind. Behind +them the soldier and Constance could hear the coach creaking and +groaning. It seemed to careen on its beams' end, but some special +providence was watching over the players and no catastrophe occurred. + +Nearer came the men on horseback down the hill; now the foremost +shouted. Closer was the river; Saint-Prosper reached its bank; the +gang-plank was in position and he dashed aboard. With a mighty +tossing and rolling, the chariot approached, rattled safely across the +gangway, followed by the property wagon, and eager hands grasped the +rope, extending from shore to shore above the large, flat craft. These +hand ferries, found in various sections of the country, were strongly, +although crudely, constructed, their sole means of locomotion in the +stationary rope, by means of which the passengers, providing their own +power for transportation, drew themselves to the opposite shore. + +The energy now applied to the hempen strand sent the ferry many feet +from the shore out into the river, where the current was much swifter +than usual, owing to the heavy rainfalls. The horses on the great +cumbersome craft were snorting with terror. + +Crack! pish! One of the men on the shore used his revolver. + +"An illogical and foolish way to collect debts, that!" grumbled the +manager, tugging at the rope. "If they kill us, how can we requite +them for our obligations?" + +The river was unusually high and the current set the boat, heavily +loaded, tugging at the rope. However, it resisted the strain and soon +the craft grated on the sand and the party disembarked, safe from +constable and bailiff in the brave, blue grass country. Only one +mishap occurred, and that to Adonis, who, in his haste, fell into the +shallow water. He was as disconsolate as the young hero Minerva threw +into the sea to wrest him from the love of Eucharis. But in this +case, Eucharis (Kate) laughed immoderately at his discomfiture. + +As Barnes was not sure of the road, the strollers camped upon the +bank. The river murmured a seductive cradle-song to the rushes, and, +on the shore, from the dark and ominous background, came the deeper +voice of the pines. + +Constance, who had been unusually quiet and thoughtful, gradually +recovered her spirits. + +"Here, Mrs. Adams, is your tippet," she said with a merry smile, +taking a bit of lace from her dress. + +"Thank you, my dear; I wouldn't have lost it for anything!" said the +old lady, effusively, while Barnes muttered something beneath his +breath. + +The soldier, who had dismissed the manager's thanks somewhat abruptly, +occupied himself arranging the cushions from the chariot on the grass. +Suddenly Mrs. Adams noticed a crimson stain on his shoulder. + +"Sir!" she exclaimed, in the voice of the heroine of "Oriana," "you +are wounded!" + +"It is nothing, Madam!" he replied. + +Stripping off his coat, Barnes found the wound was, indeed, but +slight, the flesh having just been pierced. + +"How romantic!" gushed Susan. "He stood in front of Constance when the +firing began. Now, no one thought of poor me. On the contrary, if I am +not mistaken, Mr. Hawkes discreetly stood behind me." + +"Jokes reflecting upon one's honor are in bad taste," gravely retorted +the melancholy actor. + +"Indeed, I thought it no jest at the time!" replied the other. + +"Mistress Susan, your tongue is dangerous!" + +"Mr. Hawkes, your courage will never lead you into danger!" + +"Nay," he began, angrily, "this is a serious offense--" + +"On the contrary," she said, laughing, "it is a question of defense." + +"There is no arguing with a woman," he grumbled. "She always takes +refuge in her tongue." + +"While you, Mr. Hawkes, take refuge--" + +But the other arose indignantly and strode into the gloom. Meanwhile +Barnes, while dressing the injury, discovered near the cut an old scar +thoroughly healed, but so large and jagged it attracted his +attention. + +"That hurt was another matter," said he, touching it. + +Was it the manager's fingers or his words caused Saint-Prosper to +wince? "Yes, it was another matter," he replied, hurriedly. "An Arab +spear--or something of the kind!" + +"Tell us about it," prattled Susan. "You have never told us anything +about Africa. It seems a forbidden subject." + +"Perhaps he has a wife in Tangiers, or Cairo," laughed Kate. + + "He was wed in Amsterdam, + Again in far Siam, + And after this + Sought triple bliss + And married in Hindustan," + +sang Susan. + +The soldier made some evasive response to this raillery and then +became silent. Soon quiet prevailed in the encampment; only out of the +recesses of the forest came the menacing howl of a vagabond wolf. + +"Such," says Barnes in his notebook, "is the true history of an +adventure which created some talk at the time. A perilous, regrettable +business at best, but we acted according to our light and were enabled +thereafter to requite our obligations, which could not have been done +had they seized the properties, poor garments of players' pomp; tools +whereby we earned our meager livelihood. If, after this explanation, +anyone still has aught of criticism, I must needs be silent, not +controverting his censure. + +"With some amusement I learned that our notable belligerent, Mr. +Gough, was well-nigh reduced to the same predicament as that in which +we found ourselves. He could not complain of his audiences, and the +Band of Hope gained many recruits by his coming, but, through some +misapprehension, the customary collections were overlooked. The last +night of the lecture, the chairman of the evening, at the conclusion +of the address, arose and said: 'I move we thank Mr. Gough for his +eloquent effort and then adjourn.' + +"The motion prevailed, and the gathering was about to disperse when +the platform bludgeon-man held them with a gesture. 'Will you kindly +put your thanks in writing, that I may offer it for my hotel bill,' +said he. + +"But for this quick wit and the gathering's response to the appeal he +would have been in the same boat with us, or rather, on the same +boat--the old hand ferry! Subsequently, he became a speaker of foreign +and national repute, but at that time he might have traveled from +Scarboro' to Land's End without attracting a passing glance." + + + + +BOOK II + +DESTINY AND THE MARIONETTES + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE FASTIDIOUS MARQUIS + + +Through the land of the strapping, thick-ribbed pioneers of Kentucky +the strollers bent their course--a country where towns and hamlets +were rapidly springing up in the smiling valleys or on the fertile +hillsides; where new families dropping in, and old ones obeying the +injunction to be "fruitful and multiply" had so swelled the population +that the region, but a short time before sparsely settled, now teemed +with a sturdy people. To Barnes' satisfaction, many of the roads were +all that could have been wished for, the turnpike system of the center +of the state reflecting unbounded credit upon its builders. + +If a people may be judged by its highways, Kentucky, thus early, with +its macadamized roads deserved a prominent place in the sisterhood +of states. Moreover, while mindful always of her own internal +advancement, she persistently maintained an ever-watchful eye and +closest scrutiny on the parental government and the acts of congress. +"Give a Kentuckian a plug of tobacco and a political antagonist and +he will spend a comfortable day where'er he may be," has been happily +said. It was this hardy, horse-raising, tobacco-growing community +which had given the peerless Clay to the administrative councils of +the country; it was this rugged cattle-breeding, whisky-distilling +people which had offered the fearless Zach Taylor to spread the +country's renown on the martial field. + +What sunny memories were woven in that pilgrimage for the strollers! +Remembrance of the corn-husking festivities, and the lads who, having +found the red ears, kissed the lasses of their choice; of the dancing +that followed--double-shuffle, Kentucky heel-tap, pigeon wing or +Arkansas hoe-down! And mingling with the remembrance of such pleasing +diversions were the yet more satisfying recollections of large +audiences, generous-minded people and substantial rewards, well-won; +rewards which enabled them shortly afterward to pay by post the +landlord from whom they had fled. + +Down the Father of Waters a month or so after their flight into the +blue grass country steamed the packet bearing the company of players, +leaving behind them the Chariot of the Muses. + +At the time of their voyage down the Mississippi "the science of +piloting was not a thing of the dead and pathetic past," and wonderful +accounts were written of the autocrats of the wheel and the +characteristics of the ever-changing, ever-capricious river. +"Accidents!" says an early steamboat captain. "Oh, sometimes we run +foul of a snag or sawyer, occasionally collapse a boiler and blow up +sky-high. We get used to these little matters and don't mind them." + +None of these trifling incidents was experienced by the players, +however, who thereby lost, according to the Munchausens of the period, +half of the pleasure and excitement of the trip. In fact, nothing more +stirring than taking on wood from a flatboat alongside, or throwing a +plank ashore for a passenger, varied the monotony of the hour, and, +approaching their destination, the last day on the "floating palace" +dawned serenely, uneventfully. + +The gray of early morn became suffused with red, like the flush of +life on a pallid cheek. Arrows of light shot out above the trees; an +expectant hush pervaded the forest. Inside the cabin a sleepy negro +began the formidable task of sweeping. This duty completed, he shook a +bell, which feature of his daily occupation the darky entered into +with diabolical energy, and soon the ear-rending discord brought the +passengers on deck. But hot cornbread, steaks and steaming coffee +speedily restored that equanimity of temper disturbed by the morning's +clangorous summons. + +Breakfast over, some of the gentlemen repaired to the boiler deck for +the enjoyment of cigars, the ladies surrounded the piano in the cabin, +while a gambler busied himself in getting into the good graces of a +young fellow who was seeing the world. Less lonely became the shores, +as the boat, panting as if from long exertion, steamed on. Carrolton +and Lafayette were left behind. Now along the banks stretched the +showy houses and slave plantations of the sugar planters; and soon, +from the deck of the boat, the dome of the St. Charles and the +cathedral towers loomed against the sky. + +Beyond a mile or so of muddy water and a formidable fleet of old +hulks, disreputable barges and "small fry broad-horns," lay +Algiers, graceless itself as the uninviting foreground; looking out +contemplatively from its squalor at the inspiring view of Nouvelle +Orleans, with the freighters, granaries and steamboats, three +stories high, floating past; comparing its own inertia--if a city +can be presumed capable of such edifying consciousness!--with the +aspect of the busy levee, where cotton bales, sugar hogsheads, +molasses casks, tobacco, hemp and other staple articles of the South, +formed, as it were, a bulwark, or fortification of peace, for the +habitations behind it. Such was the external appearance--suggestive +of commerce--of that little center whose social and bohemian life was +yet more interesting than its mercantile features. + +At that period the city boasted of its Addison of letters--since +forgotten; its Feu-de-joie, the peerless dancer, whose beauty had +fired the Duke Gambade to that extravagant conduct which made the +recipient of those marked attentions the talk of the town; its Roscius +of the drama; its irresistible _ingenue_, the lovely, little +Fantoccini; and its theatrical carpet-knight, M. Grimacier, whose +intrigue with the stately and, heretofore, saintly Madame Etalage had, +it was said later, much to do with the unhappy taking-off of that +ostentatious and haughty lady. It had Mlle. Affettuoso, songstress, +with, it is true, an occasional break in her trill; and, last, but not +least, that general friend of mankind, more puissant, powerful and +necessary than all the nightingales, butterflies, or men of +letters--who, nevertheless, are well enough in their places!--Tortier, +the only Tortier, who carried the _art de cuisine_ to ravishing +perfection, whose ragouts were sonnets in sauce and whose fricassees +nothing less than idyls! + +Following the strollers' experiences with short engagements and +improvised theaters, there was solace in the appearance of the city of +cream and honey, and the players, assembled on the boiler deck, +regarded the thriving port with mingled feelings as they drew nearer. +Susan began forthwith to dream of conquests--a swarthy Mexican, the +owner of an opal mine; a prince from Brazil; a hidalgo, exile, or any +other notable among the cosmopolitan people. Adonis bethought himself +of dusky beauties, waiting in their carriages at the stage entrance; +sighing for him, languishing for him; whirling him away to a supper +room--and Paradise! Regretfully the wiry old lady reverted to the time +when she and her first husband had visited this Paris of the South, +and, with a deep sigh, paid brief tribute to the memory of conjugal +felicity. + +Constance's eyes were grave as they rested upon the city where she +would either triumph or fail, and the seriousness of her task came +over her, leaning with clasped hands against the railing of the boat. +Among that busy host what place would be made for her? How easy it +seemed to be lost in the legion of workers; to be crushed in the +swaying crowd! It was as though she were entering a room filled with +strangers, and stood hesitating on the threshold. But youth's +assurance soon set aside this gloomy picture; the shadow of a smile +lighted her face and her glance grew bright. At twenty the world is +rosy and in the perspective are many castles. + +Near by the soldier also leaned against the rail, looking not, +however, at New Orleans but at her, while all unconscious of his +regard she continued to gaze cityward. His face, too, was thoughtful. +The haphazard journey was approaching its end, and with it, in all +likelihood, the bond of union, the alliance of close comradeship +associated with the wilderness. She was keenly alive to honor, fame, +renown. What meaning had those words to him--save for her? He smiled +bitterly, as a sudden revulsion of dark thoughts crowded upon him. He +had had his bout; the sands of the arena that once had shone golden +now were dust. + +Drawing up to the levee, they became a part of the general bustle and +confusion; hurriedly disembarked, rushed about for their luggage, +because every one else was rushing; hastily entered carriages of which +there was a limited supply, and were whisked off over the rough +cobblestones which constituted the principal pavements of the city; +catching momentary glimpses, between oscillations, of oyster saloons, +fruit and old clothes' shops, and coffee stands, where the people ate +in the open air. In every block were _cafes_ or restaurants, and the +sign "Furnished Rooms" appearing at frequent intervals along the +thoroughfare through which they drove at headlong pace, bore evidence +to the fact that the city harbored many strangers. + +The hotel was finally reached--and what a unique hostelry it was! "Set +the St. Charles down in St. Petersburg," commented a chronicler in +1846, "and you would think it a palace; in Boston, and ten to one, you +would christen it a college; in London, and it would remind you of an +exchange." It represented at that day the evolution of the American +tavern, the primitive inn, instituted for passengers and wayfaring +men; the development of the pot-house to the metropolitan hotel, of +the rural ale-room to the palatial saloon. + +"What a change from country hostelries!" soliloquized the manager, +after the company were installed in commodious rooms. "No more inns +where soap and towels are common property, and a comb, without its +full complement of teeth, does service for all comers!" he continued, +gazing around the apartment in which he found himself. "Think of real +gas in your room, Barnes, and great chairs, easy as the arms of +Morpheus! Are you comfortable, my dear?" he called out. + +Constance's voice in an adjoining room replied affirmatively, and he +added: "I'm going down stairs to look around a bit." + +Beneath the porch and reception hall extended the large bar-room, +where several score of men were enjoying their liquors and lunches, +and the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses and the noise +made by the skilful mixer of drinks were as sweet music to the +manager, when shortly after he strode to the bar. Wearing neither coat +nor vest, the bartender's ruffled shirt displayed a glistening stone; +the sleeves were ornamented with gold buttons and the lace collar had +a Byronic roll. + +"What will you have, sir?" he said in a well-modulated voice to a big +Virginian, who had preceded Barnes into the room. + +"A julep," was the reply, "and, while you are making it, a little +whisky straight." + +A bottle of bourbon was set before him, and he wasted no valuable time +while the bartender manipulated the more complicated drink. +Experiencing the felicity of a man who has entered a higher +civilization, the manager ordered a bottle of iced ale, drank it with +gusto, and, seating himself, was soon partaking of a palatable dish. +By this time the Virginian, joined by a friend, had ordered another +julep for the near future and a little "straight" for the immediate +present. + +"Happy days!" said the former. + +"And yours happier!" replied the newcomer. + +"Why, it's Utopia," thought Barnes. "Every one is happy!" + +But even as he thus ruminated, his glance fell upon an old man at the +next table whom the waiters treated with such deference the manager +concluded he must be some one of no slight importance. This gentleman +was thin, wrinkled and worn, with a face Voltairian in type, his hair +scanty, his dress elegant, and his satirical smile like the "flash of +a dagger in the sunlight." He was inspecting his bouillon with +manifest distrust, adjusting his eye-glass and thrusting his head +close to the plate. The look of suspicion deepened and finally a +grimace of triumph illumined his countenance, as he rapped excitedly +on the table. + +"Waiter, waiter, do you see that soup?" he almost shouted. + +"Yes, Monsieur le Marquis," was the humble response. + +"Look at it well!" thundered the old gentleman. "Do you find nothing +extraordinary about it?" + +Again the bouillon was examined, to the amusement of the manager. + +"I am sorry, Monsieur le Marquis; I can detect nothing unusual," +politely responded the waiter, when he had concluded a pains-taking +scrutiny with all the gravity and seriousness attending so momentous +an investigation. + +"You are blind!" exclaimed the old man. "See there; a spot of grease +floating in the bouillon, and there, another and another! In fact, +here is an 'Archipelago of Greece!'" This witticism was relieved by an +ironical smile. "Take it away!" + +The waiter hurried off with the offending dish and the old man looked +immensely satisfied over the disturbance he had created. + +"Well has it been said," thought the manager, "that the destiny of a +nation depends upon the digestion of its first minister! I wonder what +he'll do next?" + +Course after course that followed was rejected, the guest keeping up a +running comment: + +"This sauce is not properly prepared. This salad is not well mixed. +I shall starve in this place. These truffles; spoiled in the +importation!" + +"Oh, Monsieur le Marquis,"--clasping his hands in despair--"they were +preserved in melted paraffin." + +"What do I care about your paraffin? Never mind anything more, waiter. +I could not eat a mouthful. What is the bill? Very well; and there is +something for yourself, blockhead." + +"Thank you, Monsieur le Marquis." Deferentially. + +"The worst meal I've ever had! And I've been in Europe, Asia and +Africa. Abominable--abominable--idiot of a waiter--miserable place, +miserable--and this dyspepsia--" + +Thus running on, with snatches of caustic criticism, the old gentleman +shambled out, the waiter holding the door open for him and bowing +obsequiously. + +"An amiable individual!" observed Barnes to the waiter. "Is he +stopping at the hotel?" + +"No, Monsieur. He has an elegant house near by. The last time he was +here he complimented the cook and praised the sauces. He is a +little--what you call it?--whimsical!" + +"Yes; slightly inclined that way. But is he here alone?" + +"He is, Monsieur. He loses great sums in the gambling rooms. He keeps +a box at the theater for the season. He is a prince--a great lord--?" + +"Even if he calls you 'liar' and 'blockhead'?" + +"Oh, Monsieur,"--displaying a silver dollar with an expressive shrug +of the shoulders--"this is the--what you call it?--balm." + +"And very good balm, too," said Barnes, heartily. + +Still grumbling to himself, the marquis reached the main corridor, +where the scene was almost as animated as in the bar and where the +principal topic of conversation seemed to be horses and races that had +been or were about to be run. "I'd put Uncle Rastus' mule against that +hoss!" "That four-year-old's quick as a runaway nigger!" "Five +hundred, the gelding beats the runaway nigger!" "Any takers on Jolly +Rogers?" were among the snatches of talk which lent life and zest to +the various groups. + +Sitting moodily in a corner, with legs crossed and hat upon his knee, +was a young man whose careless glance wandered from time to time from +his cigar to the passing figures. As the marquis slowly hobbled along, +with an effort to appear alert, the young man arose quickly and came +forward with a conventional smile, intercepting the old nobleman near +the door. + +"My dear Monsieur le Marquis," he exclaimed, effusively, "it is with +pleasure I see you recovered from your recent indisposition." + +"Recovered!" almost shrieked the marquis. "I'm far from recovered; I'm +worse than ever. I detest congratulations, Monsieur! It's what a lying +world always does when you are on the verge of dissolution." + +"You are as discerning as ever," murmured the land baron--for it was +Edward Mauville. + +"I'm not fit to be around; I only came out"--with a sardonic +chuckle--"because the doctors said it would be fatal." + +"Surely you do not desire--" + +"To show them they are impostors? Yes." + +"And does New Orleans continue to please you?" asked the other, with +some of that pride Southerners entertained in those days for their +queen city. + +"How does the exile like the forced land of his adoption?" returned +the nobleman, irritably. "My king is in exile. Why should I not be +also? Should I stay there, herd with the cattle, call every shipjack +'Citizen' and every clod 'Brother'; treat every scrub as though she +were a duchess?" + +"There is, indeed, a regrettable tendency to deify common clay +nowadays," assented the patroon, soothingly. + +"Why, your 'Citizen' regards it as condescension to notice a man of +condition!" said the marquis, violently. "When my king was driven away +by the rabble the ocean was not too broad to separate me from a +swinish civilization. I will never go back; I will live there no +more!" + +"That is good news for us," returned the land baron. + +"Your politeness almost reconciles me to staying," said the old man, +more affably. "But I am on my way to the club. What do you say to a +rubber?" + +The patroon readily assented. In front of the hotel waited the +marquis' carriage, on the door of which was his coat-of-arms--argent, +three mounts vert, on each a sable bird. Entering this conveyance, +they were soon being driven over the stones at a pace which jarred +every bone in the marquis' body and threatened to shake the breath of +life from his trembling and attenuated figure. He jumped about like a +parched pea, and when finally they drew up with a jerk and a jolt, the +marquis was fairly gasping. After an interval to recover himself, he +took his companion's arm, and, with his assistance, mounted the broad +steps leading to the handsome and commodious club house. + +"At least," said the nobleman, dryly, as he paused on the stairs, "our +pavements are so well-kept in Paris that a drive there in a tumbril to +the scaffold is preferable to a coach in New Orleans!" + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"ONLY AN INCIDENT" + + +To the scattering of the anti-renters by the rescue party that +memorable night at the manor the land baron undoubtedly owed his +safety. Beyond reach of personal violence in a neighboring town, +without his own domains, from which he was practically exiled, he had +sought redress in the courts, only to find his hands tied, with no +convincing clue to the perpetrators of these outrages. On the patroon +lay the burden of proof, and he found it more difficult than he had +anticipated to establish satisfactorily any kind of a case, for alibis +blocked his progress at every turn. + +At war with his neighbors, and with little taste for the monotony of a +northern winter, he bethought him of his native city, determined to +leave the locality and at a distance wait for the turmoil to subside. +His brief dream of the rehabilitation of the commonwealth brought only +memories stirring him to restlessness. He made inquiries about the +strollers, but to no purpose. The theatrical band had come and gone +like gipsies. + +Saying nothing to any one, except Scroggs, to whom he entrusted a load +of litigation, he at length quietly departed in the regular stage, +until he reached a point where two strap rails proclaimed the new +method of conveyance. Wedged in the small compartment of a little car +directly behind a smoking monster, with an enormous chimney, fed with +cord-wood, he was borne over the land, and another puffing marvel of +different construction carried him over the water. Reaching the +Crescent City some time before the strollers--his progress expedited +by a locomotive that ran full twenty miles an hour!--the land baron +found among the latest floating population, comprised of all sorts and +conditions, the Marquis de Ligne. The blood of the patroons flowed +sluggishly through the land baron's veins, but his French extraction +danced in every fiber of his being. After learning the more important +and not altogether discreditable circumstances about the land baron's +ancestors--for if every gentleman were whipped for godlessness, how +many striped backs would there be!--the marquis, who declined intimacy +with Tom, Dick and Harry, and their honest butchers, bakers and +candlestick-makers of forefathers, permitted an acquaintance that +accorded with his views governing social intercourse. + +"This is a genuine pleasure, Monsieur le Marquis," observed the land +baron suavely, when the two found themselves seated in a card room +with brandy and soda before them. "To meet a nobleman of the old +school is indeed welcome in these days when New Orleans harbors the +refugees of the world, for, strive as we will, outsiders are creeping +in and corrupting our best circles." + +"Soon we shall all be corrupt," croaked the old man. "France--but what +can you expect of a nation that exiles kings!" + +"Ah, Louis Philippe! My father once entertained him here in New +Orleans," said Mauville. + +"Indeed?" remarked the marquis with interest. + +"It was when he visited the city in 1798 with his brothers, the Duke +of Montpensier and the Count of Beaujolais. New Orleans then did not +belong to America. France was not so eager to sell her fair +possessions in those days. I remember my father often speaking of the +royal visit. The king even borrowed money, which"--laughing--"he +forgot to pay!" + +The marquis' face was a study, as he returned stiffly: "Sir, it is a +king's privilege to borrow." + +"It is his immortal prerogative," answered Mauville easily. "I only +mentioned it to show how highly he honored my father." + +The nobleman lifted his eyebrows, steadily regarding his companion. + +"It was a great honor," he said softly. "One does not lend to a king. +When Louis Philippe borrowed from your father he lent luster to your +ancestry." + +"Yes; I doubt not my father regarded himself as the debtor. Again, we +had another distinguished compatriot of yours at our house--General +Lafayette." + +"Lafayette!" repeated the marquis. "Ah, that's another matter! A man, +born to rank and condition, voluntarily sinking to the level of the +commonalty! A person of breeding choosing the cause of the rout and +rabble! How was he received?" + +"Like a king!" laughed Mauville. "A vast concourse of people assembled +before the river when he embarked on the 'Natchez' for St. Louis." + +Muttering something about "_bourgeoisie!--epicier!_" the nobleman +partook of the liquid consolation before him, which seemed to brighten +his spirits. + +"If my doctors could see me now! Dolts! Quacks!" + +"It's a good joke on them," said Mauville, ironically. + +"Isn't it? They forbid me touching stimulants. Said they would be +fatal! Impostors! Frauds! They haven't killed me yet, have they?" + +"If so, you are a most agreeable and amiable ghost," returned +Mauville. + +"An amiable ghost!" cackled the old man. "Ha! Ha! you must have your +joke! But don't let me have such a ghastly one again. I don't +like"--in a lower tone--"jests about the spirits of the other world." + +"What! A well-seasoned materialist like you!" + +"An idle prejudice!" answered the marquis. "Only when you compared me +to a ghost"--in a half whisper--"it seemed as though I were one, a +ghost of myself looking back through years of pleasure--years of +pleasure!" + +"A pleasant perspective such memories make, I am sure," observed the +land baron. + +"Memories," repeated the marquis, wagging his head. "Existence is +first a memory and then a blank. But you have been absent from New +Orleans, Monsieur?" + +"I have been north to look after certain properties left me by a +distant relative--peace to his ashes!" + +"Only on business?" leered the marquis. "No affair of the heart? You +know the saying: 'Love makes time pass--'" + +"'And time makes love pass,'" laughed Mauville, somewhat unnaturally, +his cynicism fraught with a twinge. "Nothing of the kind, I assure +you! But you, Marquis, are not the only exile." + +The nobleman raised his brows interrogatively. + +"You fled from France; I fled from the ancestral manor. The tenants +claimed the farms were theirs. I attempted to turn them out and--they +turned me out! I might as well have inherited a hornet's nest. It was +a legacy-of hate! The old patroon must have chuckled in his grave! One +night they called with the intention of hanging me." + +"My dear sir, I congratulate you!" exclaimed the nobleman +enthusiastically. + +"Thanks!" Dryly. + +"It is the test of gentility. They only hang or cut off the heads of +people of distinction nowadays." + +"Gad! then I came near joining the ranks of the well-born angels. But +for an accident I should now be a cherub of quality." + +"And how, Monsieur, did you escape such a felicitous fate?" + +The land baron's face clouded. "Through a stranger--a Frenchman--a +silent, taciturn fellow--more or less an adventurer, I take it. He +called himself Saint-Prosper--" + +"Saint-Prosper!" + +The marquis gazed at Mauville with amazement and incredulity. He might +even have flushed or turned pale, but such a possible exhibition of +emotion was lost beneath an artificial bloom, painted by his valet. +His eyes, however, gleamed like candles in a death's head. + +"This Saint-Prosper you met was a soldier?" he asked, and his voice +trembled. "Ernest Saint-Prosper?" + +"Yes; he was a soldier; served in Africa, I believe. You knew him?" +Turning to the marquis in surprise. + +"Knew him! He was my ward, the rascal!" cried the other violently. "He +was, but now--ingrate!--traitor!--better if he were dead!" + +"You speak bitterly, Monsieur le Marquis?" said the patroon +curiously. + +"Bitterly!--after his conduct!--he is no longer anything to me! He is +dead to me--dead!" + +"How did he deviate from the line of duty?" asked Mauville, with +increasing interest, and an eagerness his light manner did not +disguise. "A sin of omission or commission?" + +"Eh? What?" mumbled the old nobleman, staring at his questioner, and, +on a sudden, becoming taciturn. "A family affair!" he added finally, +with dignity. "Not worth repeating! But what was he doing there?" + +"He had joined a strolling band of players," said the other, +concealing his disappointment as best he might at his companion's +evasive reply. + +"A Saint-Prosper become an actor!" shouted the marquis, his anger +again breaking forth. "Has he not already dragged an honored name in +the dust? A stroller! A player!" The marquis fairly gasped at the +enormity of the offense; for a moment he was speechless, and then +asked feebly: "What caused him to take such a humiliating step?" + +"He is playing the hero of a romance," said the land baron, moodily. +"I confess he has excellent taste, though! The figure of a Juno--eyes +like stars on an August night--features proud as Diana--the voice of a +siren--in a word, picture to yourself your fairest conquest, Monsieur +le Marquis, and you will have a worthy counterpart of this rose of the +wilderness!" + +"My fairest conquest!" piped the listener. With lack-luster eyes he +remained motionless like a traveler in the desert who gazes upon a +mirage. "You have described her well. The features of Diana! It was +at a revival of Vanbrugh's 'Relapse' I first met her, dressed after +the fashion of the Countess of Ossory. Who would not worship before +the figures of Lely?" + +He half closed his eyes, as though gazing in fancy upon the glossy +draperies and rosy flesh of those voluptuous court beauties. + +"The wooing, begun in the wings, ended in an ivy-covered villa--a +retired nook--solitary walks by day--nightingales and moonshine by +night. It was a pleasing romance while it lasted, but joy palls on +one. Nature abhors sameness. The heart is like Mother Earth--ever +varying. I wearied of this surfeit of Paradise and--left her!" + +"A mere incident in an eventful life," said his companion, thoughtfully. + +"Yes; only an incident!" repeated the marquis. "Only an incident! I +had almost forgotten it, but your conversation about players and your +description of the actress brought it to mind. It had quite passed +away; it had quite passed away! But the cards, Monsieur Mauville; the +cards!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +AT THE RACES + + +For several days, after rehearsals were over, the strollers were +free to amuse themselves as they pleased. Their engagement at the +theater did not begin for about a week, and meanwhile they managed +to combine recreation with labor in nearly equal proportions. +Assiduously they devoted themselves to a round of drives and +rambles: through pastures and wood-land to Carrolton; along the shell +road to Lake Pontchartrain; to Biloxi, the first settlement of the +French; and to the battle grounds, once known as the plains of +Chalmette, where volunteer soldiers were now encamped, awaiting +orders to go to the front in the Mexican campaign. For those who +craved greater excitement, the three race-courses--the Louisiana, +the Metairie and the Carrolton offered stimulating diversion. + +Within sight of the Metairie were the old dueling grounds, under +the oaks, where, it is related, on one Sunday in '39 ten duels +occurred; where the contestants frequently fought on horseback with +sabers; and, where the cowherds, says a chronicler, became so +accustomed to seeing honor satisfied in this manner that they paid +little attention to these meetings, pursuing their own humble +duties, indifferent to the follies of fashionable society. The +fencing schools flourished--what memories cluster around that odd, +strange master of the blade, Spedella, a melancholy enigma of a +man, whose art embodied much of the finest shading and phrasing +peculiar to himself; from whom even many of Bonaparte's discarded +veterans were not above acquiring new technique and temperament! +Men in those days were most punctilious about reputation, but +permitted a sufficiently wide latitude in its interpretation not to +hamper themselves or seriously interfere with their desires or +pleasures. Thus, virtue did not become a burden, nor honor a +millstone. Both, like epaulets or tassels, were worn lightly and +befittingly. + +Shortly after the players' arrival began the celebrated Leduc matches, +attracting noted men and women from all over the South. The hotels +were crowded, the lodging-houses filled, while many of the large homes +hospitably opened their doors to visiting friends. The afternoons +found the city almost deserted; the bartenders discontentedly smoked +in solitude; the legion of waiters in the hotels and resorts became +reduced to a thinly scattered array; while even the street venders had +"folded their tents" and silently stolen to the races. On one such +memorable occasion most of the members of Barnes' company repaired to +the Metairie. + +Below the grand stand, brilliant with color, strutted the dandies +attending to their bets; above they played a winning or losing game +with the fair sex. Intrigue and love-making were the order of the +hour, and these daughters of the South beguiled time--and mortals!--in +a heyday of pleasure. In that mixed gathering burly cotton planters +from the country rubbed elbows with aristocratic creoles, whose attire +was distinguishable by enormous ruffles and light boots of cloth. The +professional follower of these events, the importunate tout, also +mingled with the crowd, plainly in evidence by the pronounced +character of his dress, the size of his diamond studs or cravat pin, +and the massive dimensions of his finger rings. No paltry, scrubby +track cadger was this resplendent gentleman, but a picturesque rogue, +with impudence as pronounced as his jewels! + +Surrounded by a bevy of admirers, Susan, sprightly and sparkling, +was an example of that "frippery one of her sex is made up with, a +pasticcio of gauzes, pins and ribbons that go to compound that +multifarious thing, a well-dressed woman." Ever ready with a +quick retort, she bestowed her favors generously, to the evident +discomfiture of a young officer in her retinue whom she had met +several days before, and who, ever since, had coveted a full +harvest of smiles, liking not a little the first sample he had +gathered. However, it was not Susan's way to entrust herself fully +to any one; it was all very interesting to play one against +another; to intercept angry gleams; to hold in check clashing +suitors--this was exciting and diverting--but she exercised care +not to transgress those bounds where she ceased to be mistress of +the situation. Perhaps her limits in coquetry were further set +than most women would have ventured to place them, but without +this temerity and daring, the pastime would have lost its charm for +her. She might play with edged tools, but she also knew how to +use them. + +Near her was seated Kate, indolent as of yore, now watching her sister +with an indulgent, enigmatic expression, anon permitting a scornful +glance to stray toward Adonis, who, for his part, had eyes only for +his companion, a distinct change from country hoidens, tavern +demoiselles and dainty wenches, with their rough hands and rosy +cheeks. This lady's hands were like milk; her cheeks, ivory, and +Adonis in bestowing his attentions upon her, had a two-fold purpose: +to return tit for tat for Kate's flaunting ways, and to gratify his +own ever-fleeting fancy. + +In a box, half the length of the grand stand removed, some distance +back and to the left of Susan's gay party, Constance, Mrs. Adams and +the soldier were also observers of this scene of animation. + +Since the manager's successful flight from the landlord and the +constables, the relations of the young girl and Saint-Prosper had +undergone little change. At first, it is true, with the memory of +the wild ride to the river fresh in her mind, and the more or less +disturbing recollections of that strange, dark night, a certain +reticence had marked her manner toward the soldier; but, as time +went by, this touch of reserve wore off, and was succeeded by her +usual frankness or gaiety. In her eyes appeared, at times, a new +thoughtfulness, but for no longer period than the quick passing of +a summer cloud over a sunny meadow. This half-light of brief +conjecture or vague retrospection only mellowed the depths of her +gaze, and Barnes alone noted and wondered. + +But to-day no partial shadows lay under the black, shading lashes; the +exhilarating scene, the rapidly succeeding events, the turbulence and +flutter around her, were calculated to dispel the most pronounced +abstraction. Beneath a protecting parasol--for the sunlight shot below +the roof at the back and touched that part of the grand stand--a faint +glow warmed her cheeks, while her eyes shone with the gladness of the +moment. Many of the dandies, regarding her with marked persistency, +asked who she was, and none knew, until finally Editor-Rhymster Straws +was appealed to. Straws, informed on all matters, was able to satisfy +his questioners. + +"She is an actress," said Straws. "So we are told. We shall find out +next week. She is a beauty. We can tell that now." + +"You're right, Straws!" exclaimed a pitch-and-toss youngster. "If she +shows as well at the wire--" + +"You'd take a long chance on her winning?" laughed the philosopher. + +"I'll play you odds on it!" cried the juvenile. "Four to one, damme! +I'll risk that on her eyes." + +"Four to one on a lady's eyes, child! Say forty to one, and take the +hazard of the die." + +Standing near the rhymster, story-writer and journalist, was a tall +young man, dressed in creole fashion. He followed the glances of +Straws' questioners and a pallor overspread his dark complexion as he +looked at the object of their attention. + +"The stroller!" he exclaimed half audibly. "Her counterpart doesn't +exist." + +He stepped back where he could see her more plainly. In that sea of +faces, her features alone shone before him, clearly, insistently. + +"Do you know her, Mr. Mauville?" asked the rhymster, observing that +steadfast glance. + +"Know her?" repeated the land baron, starting. "Oh, I've seen her +act." + +"Tip me off her points and I'll tip my readers." + +"She is going to play here then?" said the patroon. + +"Yes. What is she like? Does tragedy or comedy favor her most? +You see," he added apologetically, "when people begin to talk +about anybody, we Grubstreet hacks thrive on the gossip. It is +deplorable"--with regret--"but small talk and tattle bring more +than a choice lyric or sonnet. And, heaven help us!"--shaking his +head--"what a vendible article a fine scandal is! It sells fast, +like goods at a Dutch auction. Penny a line? More nearly six +pence! If I could only bring myself to deal in such merchandise! +If I were only a good rag picker, instead of a bad poet!" And Straws +walked away, forgetting the questions he had asked in his own +more interesting cogitations. + +Without definite purpose, the patroon, who had listened with scant +attention to the poet, began to move slowly toward the actress, and at +that moment, the eyes of the soldier, turning to the saddling paddock, +where the horses were being led out, fell upon the figure drawing +near, recognizing in him the heir to the manor, Edward Mauville. +Construing in his approach a deliberate intention, a flush of quick +anger overspread Saint-Prosper's face and he glanced at the girl by +his side. But her manner assured him she had not observed the land +baron, for at that moment she was looking in the opposite direction, +endeavoring to discover Barnes or the others of the company in the +immense throng. + +Murmuring some excuse to his unconscious companion and cutting short +the wiry old lady's reminiscences of the first public trotting race in +1818, the soldier left the box, and, moving with some difficulty +through the crowd, met Mauville in the aisle near the stairway. The +latter's face expressed surprise, not altogether of an agreeable +nature, at the encounter, but he immediately regained his composure. + +"Ah, Monsieur Saint-Prosper," he observed easily, "I little thought to +see you here." + +"Nor I you!" said the other bluntly. + +The patroon gazed in seeming carelessness from the soldier to the +young girl. Saint-Prosper's presence in New Orleans could be accounted +for; he had followed her from the Shadengo Valley across the +continent; the drive begun at the country inn--he looking down from +the dormer window to witness the start--had been a long one; very +different from his own brief flight, with its wretched end. These +thoughts coursed rapidly through the land baron's brain; her +appearance rekindled the ashes of the past; the fire in his breast +flamed from his eyes, but otherwise he made no display of feeling. He +glanced out upon the many faces below them, bowing to one woman and +smiling at another. + +"Oh, I couldn't stand a winter in the North," resumed the patroon, +turning once more to the soldier. "Although the barn-burners promised +to make it warm for me!" + +Offering no reply to this sally, Saint-Prosper's gaze continued to +rest coldly and expectantly upon the other. Goaded by that arbitrary +regard, an implied barrier between him and the young girl, the land +baron sought to press forward; his glittering eyes met the other's; +the glances they exchanged were like the thrust and parry of swords. +Without wishing to address the actress--and thereby risk a public +rebuff--it was, nevertheless, impossible for the hot-blooded +Southerner to submit to peremptory restraint. Who had made the soldier +his taskmaster? He read Saint-Prosper's purpose and was not slow to +retaliate. + +"If I am not mistaken, yonder is our divinity of the lane," said the +patroon softly. "Permit me." And he strove to pass. + +The soldier did not move. + +"You are blocking my way, Monsieur," continued the other, sharply. + +"Not if it lies the other way." + +"This way, or that way, how does it concern you?" retorted the land +baron. + +"If you seek further to annoy a lady whom you have already sufficiently +wronged, it is any man's concern." + +"Especially if he has followed her across the country," sneered +Mauville. "Besides, since when have actresses become so chary of their +favors?" In his anger the land baron threw out intimations he would +have challenged from other lips. "Has the stage then become a holy +convent?" + +"You stamped yourself a scoundrel some time ago," said the soldier +slowly, as though weighing each word, "and now show yourself a coward +when you malign a young girl, without father, brother--" + +"Or lover!" interrupted the land baron. "Perhaps, however, you were +only traveling to see the country! A grand tour, enlivened with +studies of human nature, as well as glimpses of scenery!" + +"Have you anything further with me?" interjected Saint-Prosper, +curtly. + +The patroon's blood coursed, burning, through his veins; the other's +contemptuous manner stung him more fiercely than language. + +"Yes," he said, meaningly, his eyes challenging Saint-Prosper's. "Have +you been at Spedella's fencing rooms? Are you in practice?" + +Saint-Prosper hesitated a moment and the land baron's face fell. Was +it possible the other would refuse to meet him? But he would not let +him off easily; there were ways to force--and suddenly the words of +the marquis recurring to him, he surveyed the soldier, disdainfully. + +"Gad! you must come of a family of cowards and traitors! But you shall +fight or--the public becomes arbiter!" And he half raised his arm +threateningly. + +The soldier's tanned cheek was now as pale as a moment before it had +been flushed; his mouth set resolutely, as though fighting back some +weakness. With lowering brows and darkening glance he regarded the +land baron. + +"I was thinking," he said at length, with an effort, "that if I killed +you, people would want to know the reason." + +The patroon laughed. "How solicitous you are for her welfare--and +mine! Do you then measure skill only by inches? If so, I confess you +would stand a fair chance of despatching me. But your address? The St. +Charles, I presume." The soldier nodded curtly, and, having +accomplished his purpose, Mauville had turned to leave, when loud +voices, in a front box near the right aisle, attracted general +attention from those occupying that part of the grand stand. The young +officer who had accompanied Susan to the races was angrily confronting +a thick-set man, the latest recruit to her corps of willing captives. +The lad had assumed the arduous task of guarding the object of his +fancy from all comers, simply because she had been kind. And why +should she not have been?--he was only a boy--she was old enough to +be--well, an adviser! When, after a brief but pointed altercation, he +flung himself away with a last reproachful look in the direction of +his enslaver, Susan looked hurt. That was her reward for being nice to +a child! + +"A fractious young cub!" said the thick-set man, complacently. + +"Well, I like cubs better than bears!" retorted Susan, pointedly. + +Not long, however, could the interest of the spectators be diverted +from the amusement of the day and soon all eyes were drawn once more +to the track where the horses' hoofs resounded with exciting patter, +as they struggled toward the wire, urged by the stimulating voices of +the jockeys. + +But even when Leduc won the race, beating the best heat on record; +when the ladies in the grand stand arose in a body, like a thousand +butterflies, disturbed by a sudden footfall in a sunlit field; when +the jockey became the hero of the hour; when the small boys outside +nearly fell from the trees in their exuberance of ecstasy, and the men +threw their hats in the air and shouted themselves hoarse--even these +exhilarating circumstances failed to reawaken the land baron's concern +in the scene around him. His efforts at indifference were chafing his +inmost being; the cloak of _insouciance_ was stifling him; the +primeval man was struggling for expression, that brute-like rage whose +only limits are its own fury and violence. + +A quavering voice, near at hand, recalled him to himself, and turning, +he beheld the marquis approaching with mincing manner, the paint and +pigments cracked by the artificial smiles wreathing his wrinkled face. +In that vast assemblage, amid all the energy, youth and surfeit of +vitality, he seemed like a dried and crackling leaf, tossed +helplessly, which any foot might crush to dust. The roar of the +multitude subsided, a storm dying in the distance; the ladies sank in +their seats--butterflies settling once more in the fields--and Leduc, +with drooping head, was led to the paddock, followed by a few fair +adorers. + +"I placed the winner, Monsieur Mauville," piped the marquis. "Though +the doctors told me the excitement would kill me! What folly! Every +new sensation adds a day to life." + +"In your case, certainly, Marquis, for I never saw you looking +younger," answered the land baron, with an effort. + +"You are too amiable, my dear friend! The ladies would not think so," +he added, mournfully wagging his head with anile melancholy. + +"Nonsense!" protested the other. "With your spirit, animation--" + +"If I thought you were right," interrupted the delighted marquis, +taking his young friend's arm, "I would ask you to present me to the +lady over there--the one you just bowed to." + +"The deuce!" said Mauville to himself. "The marquis is becoming a +bore." + +"You rascal! I saw the smile she gave you," continued the other +playfully. "And you ran away from her. What are the young men made of +nowadays? In the old days they were tinder; women sparks. But who is +she?" + +"You mean Susan Duran, the actress?" + +"An actress!" exclaimed the nobleman. "A charming creature at any +rate!" + +"All froth; a bubble!" added Mauville impatiently. + +"How entertaining! Any lovers?" leered the nobleman. + +"A dozen; a baker's dozen, for all I know!" + +"What is her history?" said the marquis eagerly. + +"I never inquired." + +"Sometimes it's just as well," murmured the other vaguely. "How old is +she?" + +"How can you tell?" answered Mauville. + +"In Paris I kept a little book wherein was entered the _passe-parole_ +of every pretty woman; age; lovers platonic! When a woman became a +grandmother, I put a black mark against her name, for I have always +held," continued the nobleman, wagging his head, "that a woman who is +a grandmother has no business to deceive a younger generation of men. +But present me to Miss Susan at once, my dear friend. I am all +impatience to meet her." + +His eagerness permitted no refusal; besides, Mauville was not in the +mood to enjoy the nobleman's society, and was but too pleased to turn +him over to the tender care of Susan. + +"How do you do, Miss Duran," he said, having made his way to her box. + +"Where did you drop from?" she asked, in surprise, giving him her +hand. + +"The skies," he returned, with forced lightness. + +"A fallen angel!" commented Susan. + +"Good! Charming!" cried the marquis, clapping his withered hands. + +"Miss Duran, the Marquis de Ligne has requested the pleasure of +meeting you." + +She flashed a smile at him. He bent over her hand; held it a moment in +his icy grasp. + +"The pleasure," said Susan, prettily, not shirking the ordeal, "is +mine." + +"In which case," added Mauville, half ironically, "I will leave you +together to enjoy your happiness." + +Eagerly availing himself of the place offered at her side, soon the +marquis was cackling after the manner of a senile beau of the old +school; relating spicy anecdotes of dames who had long departed this +realm of scandal; and mingling witticism and wickedness in one +continual flow, until like a panorama another age was revived in his +words--an age when bedizened women wore patches and their perfumed +gallants wrote verses on the demise of their lap-dogs; when "their +virtue resembled a statesman's religion, the Quaker's word, the +gamester's oath and the great man's honor--but to cheat those that +trusted them!" + +The day's events, however, were soon over; the city of pleasure +finally capitulated; its people began rapidly to depart. That sudden +movement resembled the migration of a swarm of bees to form a new +colony, when, if the day be bright, the expedition issues forth with +wondrous rapidity. So this human hive commenced to empty itself of +queens, drones and workers. It was an outgoing wave of such life and +animation as is apparent in the flight of a swarm of cell-dwellers, +giving out a loud and sharp-toned hum from the action of their wings +as they soar over the blooming heather and the "bright consummate +flowers." And these human bees had their passions, too! their +massacres; their tragedies; their "Rival Queens"; their combats; their +sentinels; their dreams of that Utopian form of government realized in +the communistic society of insects. + +"How did you enjoy it, my dear?" asked Barnes, suddenly reappearing at +Constance's box. "A grand heat, that! Though I did bet on the wrong +horse! But don't wait for us, Saint-Prosper. Mrs. Adams and I will +take our time getting through the crowd. I will see you at the hotel, +my dear!" he added, as the soldier and Constance moved away. + +Only the merry home-going remained, and the culmination, a dinner at +Moreau's, Victor's, or Miguel's, the natural epilogue to the day's +pastime, the tag to the comedy! In the returning throng were creoles +with sky-blue costumes and palmetto hats; the Lafourche or Attakapas +planter; representatives of the older regime and the varied newer +populace. Superb equipages mingled in democratic confusion with carts +and wagons; the broken-winded nag and spavined crowbait--veterans at +the bugle call!--pricked up their ears and kicked up their heels like +colts in pasture, while the delighted darkies thumped their bony +shanks to encourage this brief rejuvenescence. + +Those who had lost felt the money well spent; those who had won would +be the more lavish in the spending. They had simply won a few more +pleasures. "Quick come; quick go!" sang the whirling wheels. "The +niggard in pound and pence is a usurer in happiness; a miser driving a +hard bargain with pleasure. Better burn the candle at both ends than +not burn it at all! In one case, you get light; in the other nothing +but darkness. Laughter is cheap at any price. A castle in the air is +almost as durable as Solomon's temple. How soon--how soon both fade +away!" + +Thus ran the song of the wheels before them and behind them, as the +soldier and Constance joined the desultory fag-end of the procession. +On either side of the road waved the mournful cypress, draped by the +hoary tillandsia, and from the somber depths of foliage came the chirp +of the tree-crickets and the note of the swamp owl. Faint music, in +measured rhythm, a foil to disconnected wood-sound, was wafted from a +distant plantation. + +"Wait!" said Constance. + +He drew in the horses and silently they listened. Or, was he +listening? His glance seemed bent so moodily--almost!--on space she +concluded he was not. She stole a sidelong look at him. + +"A penny for your thoughts!" she said gaily. + +He started. "I was thinking how soon I might leave New Orleans." + +"Leave New Orleans!" she repeated in surprise. "But I thought you +intended staying here. Why have you changed your mind?" + +Did he detect a subtle accent of regret in her voice? A deep flush +mounted to his brow. He bent over her suddenly, eagerly. + +"Would it matter--if I went?" + +She drew back at the abruptness of his words. + +"How unfair to answer one question with another!" she said lightly. + +A pause fell between them. Perhaps she, too, felt the sudden repulse +of her own answer and the ensuing constraint. Perhaps some compunction +moved her to add in a voice not entirely steady: + +"And so you think--of going back to France?" + +"To France!" he repeated, quickly. "No"--and stopped. + +Looking up, a half-questioning light in her eyes took flight to his, +until suddenly arrested by the hard, set expression of his features. +Abruptly chilled by she knew not what, her lashes fell. The horses +champed their bits and tugged at the reins, impatient of the prolonged +pause. + +"Let us go!" she said in a low, constrained voice. + +At her words he turned, the harshness dropping from his face like a +discarded mask; the lines of determination wavering. + +"Let us go!" she said again, without looking up. + +He made no motion to obey, until the sound of a vehicle behind them +seemed to break the spell and mechanically he touched the horses with +the whip. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +LEAR AND JULIET + + +Susan dismissed her admirers at the races with some difficulty, +especially the tenacious marquis, who tenderly squeezed her hand, +saying: + +"Were I twenty years younger, I would not thus be set aside." + +"Fie, Marquis!" she returned. "These other people are dull, while you +are charmingly wicked." + +"You flatter me," he cackled, detaining her, to the impatience of the +thick-set man who was waiting to escort the young woman back to town. +"But do you notice the gentleman over there with the medals?" + +"The distinguished-looking man?" asked Susan. + +"Yes; that is the Count de Propriac. It was he who was one of the +agents of Louis Philippe in the Spanish double marriage plot. It was +arranged the queen should marry her cousin, and her sister the son of +Louis Philippe. The queen and her cousin were not expected to have +children--but had them, to spite us all, and Louis Philippe's projects +for the throne of Spain failed disastrously." + +"How inconsiderate of the queen! Good afternoon, marquis! I have been +vastly entertained." + +"And I"--kissing her hand--"enamored!" Then, chuckling: "A week ago my +stupid doctors had me laid out in funereal dignity, and now I am +making love to a fine woman. Pretty pouting lips!"--tapping her chin +playfully--"Like rose-buds! Happy the lover who shall gather the dew! +But we meet again, Mistress Susan?" + +"That will depend upon you, marquis," answered Susan, coquettishly, as +a thought flashed through her mind that it would not be unpleasant to +be called "Marquise," or "Marchioness"--she did not quite know which +would be the proper title. It was nearly vesper-time with the old +nobleman; he seemed but a procrastinating presence in the evening of +mortal life; a chateau and carriage-- + +"Then we will meet again," said the marquis, interrupting these +new-born ambitions. + +"In that case you would soon get tired of me," laughed Susan. + +"Never!" Tenderly. "When may I see you?" + +"How importunate you are! Call when you will." + +"But if you are out"--he insisted. + +"That will make it the more delightfully uncertain," she said gaily. + +"So it will!" Rubbing his hands. "Delightfully uncertain!" he +repeated. And he departed with many protestations, taking no more +notice of the thick-set man than if he were a block of wood. + +"What an old ape!" growled the latter, viciously, as the marquis +ambled from their stall. + +"Do you think so?" answered Susan, tossing her head. "He has that air +of distinction which only persons of rank and title can command." + +"Distinction!" said the other, who was but a well-to-do merchant. "I +should call it bad manners." + +"Because he never noticed you!" laughed Susan, spitefully. "But why +are we standing here? I believe you expect to take me home, don't +you?" + +Although she chattered like a magpie on the road, he was silent and +sullen, nursing his injured pride and wounded self-sufficiency. Susan, +who was interested in him for the novel reason she disliked him so +heartily, parted from him with the air of a duchess, and entered the +hotel, holding her head so high that he swore under his breath as he +drove away. And, as a result of the quarrel with the lad, he would +probably have to risk being "pinked" for this jade! Susan, on the +other hand, was as happy as a lark when she entered the dining-room of +the St. Charles, that great eating-place and meeting-place of all +classes of people. + +As she seated herself at a table, a smile lurked around the corners of +her mouth and flickered faintly upon the waiter who forthwith became a +Mercury for expedition and a prodigal for variety. Her quarrel on the +road with her companion had in nowise interfered with that appetite +which the fresh air and the lateness of the hour had provoked, nor +were her thoughts of a character to deter from the zest of eating. + +From the present to the past was but an instant's flight of the +mind--thus may the once august years swiftly and unceremoniously be +marshaled by!--and she dwelt in not unpleasing retrospection on an +endless field of investigation and discovery and the various +experiences which had befallen her in arriving at the present period +of mature knowledge; a proficiency which converted her chosen +researches into an exact science. + +Thus meditating and dining--counting on her fingers twice over +the fair actresses who had become titled ladies, and enviously +disbelieving she would join that triumphant company--Susan was +still seated at the table some time later when the soldier glanced +in. Imperatively she motioned him to her side and he obeyed with +not entirely concealed reluctance, and was so preoccupied, she +rallied him upon his reserve. + +"I believe you and Constance had a quarrel on the road." Maliciously. +"I hope you were more amiable than my companion. He hardly spoke a +word, and, when I left him"--her voice sank to a whisper--"I heard him +swear." + +"He pleased you so much earlier in the day that a duel will probably +be the outcome." + +Susan laughed gaily. + +"A duel! Then my fortune is made. All the newspapers will contain +paragraphs. It is too good to be true." And she clapped her hands. +"When is it to take place? Tell me about it!" + +Then noting his manner, she continued with an assumption of +plaintiveness: "Now you are cross with me! You think me heartless. Is +it my fault? I care nothing for either of them and I am not to be +blamed if they are so foolish. It might be different if either had +touched my heart." And she assumed a coquettish demeanor, while +Saint-Prosper coolly studied her through the wreaths of smoke from his +weed. + +"You are wondering what sort of a person I am!" she continued, +merrily, raising her glass of wine with: "To unrequited passion!" + +Her roguish face sparkled as he asked; "Whose?" + +She drained the glass and set it down demurely. "Mine!" + +The cigar was suspended; the veil cleared between them. + +"For whom?" he said. + +"You!" Offering him the limpid depths of her blue eyes. "Is my liking +returned?" + +"Liking? Perhaps!" + +"My love?" + +"Love? No." Coldly. + +"You do not fear a woman scorned?" Her lips curved in a smile, +displaying her faultless teeth. + +"Not when the avenging angel is so charming and so heartless!" he +added satirically. + +Her lashes veiled the azure orbs. + +"You think to disarm her with a compliment? How well you understand +women!" And, as he rose, the pressure of the hand she gave him at +parting was lingering. + + * * * * * + +Above in his room, Barnes, with plays and manuscripts scattered around +him, was engaged in writing in his note and date book, wherein +autobiography, ledger and journal accounts, and such miscellaneous +matter mingled indiscriminately. "To-day she said to me: 'I am going +to the races with Mr. Saint-Prosper.' What did I say? 'Yes,' of +course. What can there be in common between Lear and Juliet? +Naturally, she sometimes turns from an old fellow like me--now, if she +were only a slip of a girl again--with her short frock--her disorder +of long ringlets--running and romping-- + +"A thousand details pass through my mind, reminiscences of her +girlhood, lightening a lonesome life like glimmerings of sunshine in a +secluded wood; memories of her mother and the old days when she played +in my New York theater--for Barnes, the stroller, was once a +metropolitan manager! Her fame had preceded her and every admirer of +histrionic art eagerly awaited her arrival. + +"But the temple of art is a lottery. The town that had welcomed her so +wildly now went Elssler-mad. The gossamer floatings of this French +_danseuse_ possessed everyone. People courted trash and trumpery. +Greatness gave way to triviality. This pitiful condition preyed upon +her. The flame of genius never for a moment became less dim, but her +eyes grew larger, brighter, more melancholy. Sometimes she would fall +into a painful reverie and I knew too well the subject of her +thoughts. With tender solicitude she would regard her daughter, +thinking, thinking! She was her only hope, her only joy! + +"'The town wants dancers, not tragedians, Mr. Barnes,' she said sadly +one day. + +"'Nonsense,' I replied. 'The town wants a change of bill. We will put +on a new piece next week.' + +"'It will be but substituting one tragedy for another,' she retorted. +'One misfortune for a different one! You should import a rival dancer. +You are going down; down hill! I will leave you; perhaps you will +discover your dancer, and your fortune is made!' + +"'And you? What would you do?' I demanded. 'And your child?' + +"At this her eyes filled and she could not answer. 'And now, Madam,' I +said firmly, 'I refuse once and for all to permit you to break your +contract. Pooh! The tide will change. Men and women are sometimes +fools; but they are not fools all the time. The dancer will have had +her day. She will twirl her toes to the empty seats and throw her +kisses into unresponsive space. Our patrons will gradually return; +they will grow tired of wriggling and twisting, and look again for a +more substantial diet.' + +"Matters did, indeed, begin to mend somewhat, when to bring the whole +fabric tumbling down on our heads, this incomparable woman fell ill. + +"'You see? I have ruined you,' she said sadly. + +"'I am honored, Madam,' was all I could reply. + +"She placed her hand softly on mine and let her luminous eyes rest on +me. + +"'Dear old friend!' she murmured. + +"Then she closed her eyes and I thought she was sleeping. Some time +elapsed when she again opened them. + +"'Death will break our contract, Mr. Barnes,' she said softly. + +"I suppose my hand trembled, for she tightened her grasp and continued +firmly: 'It is not so terrible, after all, or would not be, but for +one thing.' + +"'You will soon get well, Madam,' I managed to stammer. + +"'No! Do you care? It is pleasant to have one true, kind friend in the +world; one who makes a woman believe again in the nobility of human +nature. My life has been sad as you know. I should not regret giving +it up. Nor should I fear to die. I can not think that God will be +unkind to one who has done her best; at least, has tried to. Yet there +is one thing that makes me crave for life. My child--what will she +do--poor, motherless, fatherless girl--all alone, all alone--. + +"'Madam, if I may--will you permit me to care for her? If I might +regard her as my child!' + +"How tightly she held my hand at that! Her eyes seemed to blaze +with heavenly fire. But let me not dwell further upon the sad +events that led to the end of her noble career. Something of her life +I had heard; something, I surmised. Unhappy as a woman, she was +majestic as an actress; the fire of her voice struck every ear; its +sweetness had a charm, never to be forgotten. But only to those who +knew her well were revealed the unvarying truth and simplicity of her +nature. Even as I write, her spirit, tender and steadfast, seems +standing by my side; I feel her eyes in the darkness of night, and, +when the time comes--and often of late, it has seemed not far--to go +from this mere dressing-room, the earth, into the higher life--" + +A knock at the door rudely dispelled these memories. For a moment the +manager looked startled, as one abruptly called back to his immediate +surroundings; then the pen fell from his hand, and he pushed the book +from him to the center of the table. + +"Come in," he said. + +The door opened and Saint-Prosper entered. + +"Am I interrupting you?" asked the soldier, glancing at the littered +table. + +"Not at all," answered the manager, recovering himself, and settling +back in his chair. "Make yourself at home. You'll find some cigars on +the mantel, or if you prefer your pipe, there's a jar of tobacco on +the trunk. Do you find it? I haven't had time yet to bring order out +of chaos. A manager's trunks are like a junk-shop, with everything +from a needle to an anchor." + +Filling his pipe from the receptacle indicated, which lay among old +costumes and wigs, the soldier seated himself near an open window that +looked out upon a balcony. Through a door at the far end of the +balcony a light streamed from a chandelier within, playing upon the +balustrade. Once the figure of the young actress stepped for a moment +out upon the balcony; she leaned upon the balustrade, looked across +the city, breathed the perfume of the flowers, and then quickly +vanished. + +"Can you spare me a little time to-morrow morning--early--before +rehearsal?" said Saint-Prosper, finally. + +"Yes," returned the manager, in surprise. "What is it?" + +"A foolish piece of business! The patroon is in New Orleans." + +Barnes uttered an exclamation of annoyance and apprehension. "Here! +What is he doing here?" he said. "I thought we had seen the last of +him. Has he followed--Constance?" + +"I don't know. We met yesterday at the races." + +"It is strange she did not tell me about it," remarked the manager, +without endeavoring to conceal the anxiety this unexpected information +afforded him. + +"She does not know he is here." And Saint-Prosper briefly related the +circumstances of his meeting with the land baron, to which the manager +listened attentively. + +"And so she must be dragged into it?" exclaimed Barnes at length, +resentfully. "Her name must become public property in a broil?" + +A frown darkened the soldier's face, but he replied quickly: "Need any +one know? The land baron has not been seen with her." + +"No; but you have," returned the manager, suddenly pausing and looking +down at the other. + +The silence between them lasted for some moments. Barnes stood with +his hands in his pockets, his face downcast and moody. He felt that +events were happening over which he had no control, but which were +shaping the destiny of all he loved best. In the dim light the rugged +lines of his countenance were strongly, decisively outlined. Turning +to the trunk, with a quick, nervous step, he filled a pipe himself. +After he had lighted it, he once more contemplated the soldier, +thinking deeply, reviewing the past. + +"We have been together for some time, Mr. Saint-Prosper," he said, at +length. "We have gone through fair and rough weather, and"--he paused +a moment before continuing--"should understand each other. You asked +me when you came in if you were interrupting me, and I told you that +you were not. As a matter of fact, you were." + +And, walking to a table, Barnes took up the notebook. + +"A garrulous, single man must tell his little secrets somewhere," he +continued. "Will you look at the pages I was writing when you came +in?" + +Saint-Prosper took the book, and, while he was turning the leaves that +were hardly dry, the manager relighted his pipe, over which he glanced +nervously from time to time at his companion. Finally, when the +soldier had finished the perusal of the diary, Barnes turned to him +expectantly, but the other silently laid down the little volume, and, +after waiting some moments for him to speak, the manager, as though +disappointed by his reticence, breathed a sigh. Then, clearing his +throat, in a voice somewhat husky, he went on, simply: + +"You will understand now why she is so much to me. I have always +wanted to keep her from the world as much as possible; to have her +world, her art! I have tried to keep the shadow of the past from her. +An actress has a pretty face; and there's a hue and cry! It is not +notoriety she seeks, but fame; fame, bright and pure as sunlight!" + +"The land baron will not cry abroad the cause of the meeting," said +the soldier, gravely. "These fashionable affairs need but flimsy +pretexts." + +"Flimsy pretexts!" cried Barnes. "A woman's reputation--her good +name--" + +"Hush!" said Saint-Prosper. + + +From the door at the far end of the balcony Constance had again +emerged and now approached their room. A flowing gown of an early +period surrounded her like a cloud as she paused before Barnes' +apartment. At the throat a deep-falling collar was closely fastened; +the sleeves were gathered in at elbow and wrist, and from a +"coverchief," set upon the dusky hair, fell a long veil of ample +proportions. With the light shimmering on the folds of her raiment, +she stood looking through the open door, regarding the manager and +Saint-Prosper. + +"Oh, you are not alone?" she said to the former. "You look as though +you were talking together very seriously?" she added, turning to +Saint-Prosper. + +"Nothing of consequence, Miss Carew!" he replied, flushing beneath her +clear eyes. + +"Only about some scenery!" interposed the manager, so hastily that she +glanced, slightly surprised, from the one to the other. "Some sets +that are--" + +"'Flimsy pretexts!' I caught that much! I only wanted to ask you about +this costume. Is it appropriate, do you think, for the part we were +talking about?" Turning around slowly, with arms half-raised. + +"Charming, my dear; charming!" he answered, enthusiastically. + +"If I only thought that an unbiased criticism!" Her dark lashes +lowered; she looked toward the soldier, half shyly, half mockingly. +"What do you think, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" + +At that moment her girlish grace was irresistible. + + +"I think it is not only appropriate, but"--looking at her and not at +the costume--"beautiful!" + +A gleam like laughter came into her eyes; nor did she shun his +kindling gaze. + +"Thank you!" she said, and courtesied low. + + * * * * * + +That same evening Spedella's fencing rooms were fairly thronged with +devotees of the ancient art of puncturing. The master of the place was +a tall Italian, lank and lean, all bone and muscle, with a Don Quixote +visage, barring a certain villainous expression of the eyes, +irreconcilable with the chivalrous knight-errant of distressed +Dulcineas. But every man with a bad eye is not necessarily a +rascallion, and Spedella, perhaps, was better than he looked. With a +most melancholy glance he was now watching two combatants, novices in +feats of arms. Dejection sat upon his brow; he yawned over a clumsy +_feinte seconde_, when his sinister eyes fell on a figure that had +just entered the hall. Immediately his melancholy vanished, and he +advanced to meet the newcomer with stately cordiality. + +"Well met, Mr. Mauville," he exclaimed, extending a bony hand that had +fingers like the grip of death. "What good fortune brought you here?" + +"An ill wind, Spedella, rather!" + +"It's like a breath of the old days to see you; the old days before +you began your wanderings!" + +"Get the foils, Spedella; I'll have a bout with the master. Gad, +you're as ill-looking as ever! It's some time since I've touched a +foil. I want to test myself. I have a little affair to-morrow. Hark +you, my old brigand; I wish to see if I can kill him!" + +"A lad of spirit!" chuckled the master, a gleam of interest illumining +his cavernous eyes. "Young!--frisky!--an affair of honor to-day is but +nursery sport. Two children with tin swords are more diverting. The +world goes backward! A counter-jumper thinks he can lunge, because he +is spry, that he can touch a button because he sells them. And I am +wasting my genius with ribbon-venders--" + +"I see the wolf growls as much as ever!" said the patroon. "Here's a +quiet corner. Come; tell me what I've forgotten." + +"Good!" returned the other. "You can tell me about your travels as we +fence." + +"Hang my travels!" replied the patroon, as they leisurely engaged. +"They've brought me nothing but regrets." + +"_Feinte flanconnade_--well done!" murmured Spedella. "So it was not +honey you brought home from your rambles? _Feinte seconde_ and +decisive tierce! It's long since I've touched a good blade. These +glove-sellers and perfume-dealers--" + +"You are bitter against trade, my bravo," remarked the land baron. + +"I was spoiling with languor when you came. Not bad, that feint--but +dangerous, because of the possibility of misjudging the attack. Learn +the paroles he affects to-morrow by quick, simple thrusts, and then +you will know what feints to attack him with. Time in octave--you +quitted the blade in a dangerous position. Cluck; cluck, my game cock! +Intemperance has befogged your judgment; high-living has dimmed +your--" + +"You have it!" laughed the land baron. + +The button of his foil touched the old bravo's breast; the steel was +bent like a bow. + +Spedella forgot his English and swore in soft and liquid Italian. "I +looked around to see how those ribbon-venders were getting on," he +said after this euphonious, foreign prelude. "They pay me; I have to +keep an eye on them. All the same," he added, generously, "there isn't +another man in New Orleans could have stopped that stroke--except +myself!" + +"Will I do--for to-morrow?" asked the patroon, moodily. + +The master cocked his head quizzically; his deep-set eyes were soft +and friendly. + +"The devil's with him, if you don't put your spur in him, my bantam!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE MEETING BENEATH THE OAKS + + +The mist was lifting from the earth and nature lay wrapped in the rosy +peace of daybreak as the sun's shafts of gold pierced the foliage, +illumining the historic ground of the Oaks. Like shining lances, they +gleamed from the interstices in the leafy roof to the dew-bejeweled +sward. From this stronghold of glistening arms, however, the +surrounding country stretched tranquil and serene. Upon a neighboring +bank sheep were browsing; in the distance cow-bells tinkled, and the +drowsy cowherds followed the cattle, faithful as the shepherds who +tended their flocks on the Judean hills. + +Beneath the spreading trees were assembled a group of persons +variously disposed. A little dapper man was bending over a case of +instruments, as merry a soul as ever adjusted a ligature or sewed a +wound. Be-ribboned and be-medaled, the Count de Propriac, acting for +the land baron, and Barnes, who had accompanied the soldier, were +consulting over the weapons, a magnificent pair of rapiers with costly +steel guards, set with initials and a coronet. Member of an ancient +society of France which yet sought to perpetuate the memory of the old +judicial combat and the more modern duel, the count was one of those +persons who think they are in honor bound to bear a challenge, without +questioning the cause, or asking the "color of a reason." + +"A superb pair of weapons, count!" observed the doctor, rising. + +"Yes," said the person addressed, holding the blade so that the +sunlight ran along the steel; "the same Jacques Legres and I fought +with!" + +Here the count smiled in a melancholy manner, which left no doubt +regarding the fate of the hapless Jacques. But after a moment he +supplemented this indubitable assurance by adding specifically: + +"The left artery of the left lung!" + +"Bless my soul!" commented the medical man. "But what is this head in +gold beneath the guard?" + +"Saint Michael, the patron saint of duelists!" answered the count. + +"Patron!" exclaimed the doctor. "Well, all I have to say is, it is a +saintless business for Michael." + +The count laughed and turned away with a business-like air. + +"Are you ready, gentlemen?" + +At his words the contestants immediately took their positions. The +land baron, lithe and supple, presented a picture of insolent and +conscious pride, his glance lighted by disdain, but smoldering with +fiercer passions as he examined and tested his blade. + +"Engage!" exclaimed the count. + +With ill-concealed eagerness, Mauville began a vigorous, although +guarded attack, as if asserting his supremacy, and at the same time +testing his man. The buzzing switch of the steel became angrier; the +weapons glinted and gleamed, intertwining silently and separating with +a swish. The patroon's features glowed; his movements became quicker, +and, executing a rapid parry, he lunged with a thrust so stealthy his +blade was beaten down only as it touched the soldier's breast. + +Mauville smiled, but Barnes groaned inwardly, feeling his courage and +confidence fast oozing from him. Neither he nor the other spectators +doubted the result. Strength would count but little against such +agility; the land baron was an incomparable swordsman. + +"Gad!" muttered the count to himself. "It promises to be short and +sweet." + +As if to demonstrate the verity of this assertion, Mauville suddenly +followed his momentary advantage with a dangerous lunge from below. +Involuntarily Barnes looked away, but his wandering attention was +immediately recalled. From the lips of the land baron burst an +exclamation of mingled pain and anger. Saint-Prosper had not only +parried the thrust, but his own blade, by a rapid _riposte_, had +grazed the shoulder of his foe. + +Nor was the manager's surprise greater than that of the count. The +latter, amazed this unusual strategem should have failed when directed +by a wrist as trained and an eye as quick as Mauville's, now +interposed. + +"Enough!" he exclaimed, separating the contestants. "Demme! it was +superb. Honor has been satisfied." + +"It is nothing!" cried the land baron, fiercely. "His blade hardly +touched me." In his exasperation and disappointment over his failure, +Mauville was scarcely conscious of his wound. "I tell you it is +nothing," he repeated. + +"What do you say, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" asked the count. + +"I am satisfied," returned the young man, coldly. + +"But I'm not!" reiterated the patroon, restraining himself with +difficulty. "It was understood we should continue until _both_ were +willing to stop!" + +"No," interrupted the count, suavely; "it was understood you should +continue, if both were willing!" + +"And you're not!" exclaimed the land baron, wheeling on Saint-Prosper. +"Did you leave the army because--" + +"Gentlemen, gentlemen! let us observe the proprieties!" expostulated +the count. "Is it your intention, sir"--to Saint-Prosper--"not to +grant my principal's request?" + +A fierce new anger gleamed from the soldier's eyes, completely +transforming his expression and bearing. His glance quickly swept from +the count to Mauville at the studied insult of the latter's words; on +his cheek burned a dark red spot. + +"Let it go on!" + +The count stepped nimbly from his position between the two men. Again +the swords crossed. The count's glance bent itself more closely on the +figure of the soldier; noting now how superbly poised was his body; +what reserves of strength were suggested by the white, muscular arm! +His wrist moved like a machine, lightly brushing aside the thrusts. +Had it been but accident that Mauville's unlooked-for expedient had +failed? + +"The devil!" thought the count, watching the soldier. "Here is a +fellow who has deceived us all." + +But the land baron's zest only appeared to grow in proportion to the +resistance he encountered; the lust for fighting increased with the +music of the blades. For some moments he feinted and lunged, seeking +an opening, however slight. Again he appeared bent upon forcing a +quick conclusion, for suddenly with a rush he sought to break over +Saint-Prosper's guard, and succeeded in wounding the other slightly in +the forehead. Now sure of his man, Mauville sprang at him savagely. + +But dashing the blood from his eyes with his free hand, and without +giving way, Saint-Prosper met the assault with a wrist of iron, and +the land baron failed to profit by what had seemed a certain +advantage. The wound had the effect of making the soldier more +cautious, and eye, foot and hand were equally true. Mauville was +breathing heavily from his exertions, but the appearance of both men, +the supple movements of the one contrasting with the perfect precision +of the other, would have delighted those members of the count's +society, who regarded these matches as leading to a renaissance of +chivalry. + +In his fury that his chance had slipped away, after wounding, and, as +he supposed, blinding his opponent, Mauville, throwing prudence to the +winds, recklessly attempted to repeat his rash expedient, and this +time the steel of his antagonist gleamed like quicksilver, passing +beneath his arm and inflicting a slight flesh wound. Something +resembling a look of apprehension crossed the land baron's face. "I +have underestimated him!" he thought. "The next stroke will be driven +nearer home." + +He felt no fear, however; only mute, helpless rage. In the soldier's +hand the dainty weapon was a thing of marvelous cunning; his vastly +superior strength made him practically tireless in this play. Not only +tireless; he suddenly accelerated the tempo of the exercise, but +behind this unexpected, even passionate, awakening, the spectators +felt an unvarying accuracy, a steely coldness of purpose. The blades +clicked faster; they met and parted more viciously; the hard light in +Saint-Prosper's eyes grew brighter as he slowly thrust back his +antagonist. + +Mauville became aware his own vigor was slowly failing him; instead of +pressing the other he was now obliged to defend himself. He strove to +throw off the lethargy irresistibly stealing over him; to shake the +leaden movements from his limbs. He vainly endeavored to penetrate the +mist falling before his eyes and to overcome the dizziness that made +his foeman seem like a figure in a dream. Was it through loss of +blood, or weariness, or both?--but he was cognizant his thrusts had +lost force, his plunges vitality, and that even an element of chance +prevailed in his parries. But he uttered no sound. When would that +mist become dark, and the golden day fuse into inky night? + +Before the mist totally eclipsed his sight he determined to make one +more supreme effort, and again sprang forward, but was driven back +with ease. The knowledge that he was continuing a futile struggle +smote him to the soul. Gladly would he have welcomed the fatal thrust, +if first he could have sent his blade through that breast which so far +had been impervious to his efforts. Now the scene went round and +round; the golden day became crimson, scarlet; then gray, leaden, +somber. Incautiously he bent his arm to counter an imaginary lunge, +and his antagonist thrust out his rapier like a thing of life, +transfixing Mauville's sword arm. He stood his ground bravely for a +moment, playing feebly into space, expecting the fatal stroke! When +would it come? Then the slate-colored hues were swallowed in a black +cloud. But while his mind passed into unconsciousness, his breast was +openly presented to his antagonist, and even the count shuddered. + +With his blade at guard, Saint-Prosper remained motionless; the land +baron staggered feebly and then sank softly to the earth. That fatal +look, the expression of a duelist, vanished from the soldier's face, +and, allowing the point of his weapon to drop to the ground, he +surveyed his prostrate antagonist. + +"Done like a gentleman!" cried the count, breathing more freely. "You +had him at your mercy, sir"--to Saint-Prosper--"and spared him." + +A cold glance was the soldier's only response, as without a word he +turned brusquely away. Meanwhile the doctor, hastening to Mauville's +side, opened his shirt. + +"He is badly hurt?" asked Barnes, anxiously, of the surgeon. + +"No; only fainted from loss of blood," replied that gentleman, +cheerfully. "He will be around again in a day or two." + +The count put away his blades as carefully as a mother would deposit +her babe in the cradle. + +"Another page of history, my chicks!" he observed. "Worthy of the song +of Pindar!" + +"Why not Straws or Phazma?" queried the surgeon, looking up from his +task. + +"Would you have the press take up the affair? There are already people +who talk of abolishing dueling. When they do they will abolish +reputation with it. And what's a gentleman got but his honor--demme!" +And the royal emissary carefully brushed a crimson stain from the +bespattered saint. + +By this time the land baron had regained consciousness, and, his +wounds temporarily bandaged, walked, with the assistance of the count, +to his carriage. As they were about to drive away the sound of a +vehicle was heard drawing near, and soon it appeared followed by +another equipage. Both stopped at the confines of the Oaks and the +friends of the thick-set man--Susan's admirer--and the young lad, on +whom she had smiled, alighted. + +"Ha!" exclaimed the doctor, who had accompanied the count and his +companion to the carriage. "Number two!" + +"Yes," laughed the count, as he leaned back against the soft cushions, +"it promises to be a busy day at the Oaks! Really"--as the equipage +rolled on--"New Orleans is fast becoming a civilized center--demme!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A BLOT IN THE 'SCUTCHEON + + +The land baron's injuries did not long keep him indoors, for it was +his pride rather than his body that had received deep and bitter +wounds. He chafed and fumed when he thought how, in all likelihood, +the details of his defeat could not be suppressed in the clubs and +_cafes_. This anticipated publicity he took in ill part, fanning his +mental disorder with brandy, mellow and insidious with age. But +beneath the dregs of indulgence lay an image which preyed upon his +mind more than his defeat beneath the Oaks: a figure, on the crude +stage of a country tavern; in the manor window, with an aureole around +her from the sinking sun; in the grand stand at the races, the gay +dandies singling her out in all that seraglio of beauty. + +"I played him too freely," he groaned to the Count de Propriac, as the +latter sat contemplatively nursing the ivory handle of his cane and +offering the land baron such poor solace as his company afforded. "I +misjudged the attack, besides exposing myself too much. If I could +only meet him again!" + +The visitor reflectively took the handle of the stick from his lips, +thrust out his legs and yawned. The count was sleepy, having drowned +dull care the night before, and had little sympathy with such spirited +talk so early in the day. His lack-luster gaze wandered to the +pictures on the wall, the duel between two court ladies for the +possession of the Duc de Richelieu and an old print of the deadly +public contest of Francois de Vivonne and Guy de Jarnac and then +strayed languidly to the other paraphernalia of a high-spirited +bachelor's rooms--foils, dueling pistols and masks--trappings that but +served to recall to the land baron his defeat. + +"It would be like running against a stone wall," said the count, +finally; "demme if it wouldn't! He could have killed you!" + +"Why didn't he do it, then?" demanded the land baron, fiercely. + +The count shrugged his shoulders, drank his brandy, and handed the +bottle to his companion, who helped himself, as though not averse to +that sort of medicine for his physical and mental ailments. + +"What's the news?" he asked abruptly, sinking back on his pillow. + +"The levees are flooded." + +"Hanged if I care if it's another deluge!" said Mauville. "I mean news +of the town, not news of the river." + +"There's a new beauty come to town--a brunette; all the bloods are +talking about her. Where did she come from? Who is she? These are +some of the questions asked. But she's a Peri, at any rate! shy, hard +to get acquainted with--at first! An actress--Miss Carew!" + +The glass trembled in the patroon's hand. "Do you know her?" he asked +unsteadily. + +Smiling, the visitor returned the cane to his lips and gazed into +vacancy, as though communing with agreeable thoughts. + +"I have met her," he said finally. "Yes; I may say I have met her. +Ged! Next to a duel with rapiers is one with eyes. They thrust at +you; you parry; they return, and, demme! you're stabbed! But don't ask +me any more--discretion--you understand--between men of the +world--demme!"--and the count relapsed into a vacuous dream. + +"What a precious liar he is!" commented the land baron to himself. But +his mind soon reverted to the duel once more. "If I had only followed +Spedella's advice and studied his favorite parades!" he muttered, +regretfully. + +"It would have been the same," retorted the count, brutally. "When you +lost your temper, you lost your cause. Your work was brilliant; but he +is one of the best swordsmen I ever saw. Who is he, anyway?" + +"All I know is, he served in Algiers," said Mauville, moodily. + +"A demmed adventurer, probably!" exclaimed the other. + +"I'd give a good deal to know his record," remarked the patroon, +contemplatively. "You should be pretty well acquainted with the +personnel of the army?" + +"It includes everybody nowadays," replied the diplomat. "I have a +large acquaintance, but I am not a directory. A person who knows +everybody usually knows nobody--worth knowing! But it seems to me I +did know of a Saint-Prosper at the military college at Saumur; or was +it at the _Ecole d'application d'etat-major_? Demmed scapegrace, if I +am not mistaken; sent to Algiers; must be the same. A hell-rake +hole!--full of German and French outcasts! Knaves, adventureres, ready +for plunder and loot!" + +Here the count, after this outburst, closed his eyes and seemed almost +on the point of dropping off, but suddenly straightened himself. + +"Let's get the cards, or the dice, Mauville," he said, "or I'll fall +into a doze. Such a demmed sleepy climate!" + +Soon the count was shuffling and the land baron and he were playing +bezique, but in spite of the latter's drowsiness, he won steadily from +his inattentive companion, and, although the noble visitor had some +difficulty in keeping his eyes open, what there was of his glance was +vigilantly concentrated on his little pile of the coin of the realm. +His watchfulness did not relax nor his success desert him, until +Mauville finally threw down the cards in disgust, weary alike of such +poor luck and the half-nodding automaton confronting him; whereupon +the count thrust every piece of gold carefully away in his pocket, +absently reached for his hat, drawled a perfunctory farewell and +departed in a brown study. + +The count's company, of which he had enjoyed a good deal during the +past forty-eight hours, did not improve Mauville's temper, and he bore +his own reflections so grudgingly that inaction became intolerable. +Besides, certain words of his caller concerning Saint-Prosper had +stimulated his curiosity, and, in casting about for a way to confirm +his suspicions, he had suddenly determined in what wise to proceed. +Accordingly, the next day he left his rooms, his first visit being to +a spacious, substantial residence of stone and lime, with green +veranda palings and windows that opened as doors, with a profusion of +gauzy curtains hanging behind them. This house, the present home of +the Marquis de Ligne, stood in the French quarter, contrasting +architecturally with the newer brick buildings erected for the +American population. The land baron was ushered into a large reception +room, sending his card to the marquis by the neat-appearing colored +maid who answered the door. + +If surroundings indicate the man, the apartments in which the visitor +stood spoke eloquently of the marquis' taste. Eschewing the stiff, +affected classicalism of the Empire style, the furniture was the best +work of Andre Boule and Riesener; tables, with fine marquetry of the +last century, made of tulip wood and mahogany; mirrors from +Tourlaville; couches with tapestry woven in fanciful designs after +Fragonard, in the looms of Beauvais--couches that were made for +conversation, not repose; cabinets exemplifying agreeable disposition +of lines and masses in the inlaid adornment, containing tiny drawers +that fitted with old-time exactness, and, without jamming, opened and +shut at the touch. The marquis' character was stamped by these +details; it was old, not new France, to which he belonged. + +Soon the marquis' servant, a stolid, sober man, of virtuous +deportment, came down stairs to inform the land baron his master had +suffered a relapse and was unable to see any one. + +"Last night his temperature was very high," said the valet. "My master +is very ill; more so than I have known him to be in twenty years." + +"You have served the marquis so long?" said the visitor, pausing as he +was leaving the room. "Do you remember the Saint-Prosper family?" + +"Well, Monsieur. General Saint-Prosper and my master were distant +kinsmen and had adjoining lands." + +"Surely the marquis did not pass his time in the country?" observed +Mauville. + +"He preferred it to Paris--when my lady was there!" added Francois, +softly. + +In spite of his ill-humor, the shadow of a smile gleamed in the land +baron's gaze, and, encouraged by that questioning look, the man +continued: "The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were always +together. My lady had her own friends." + +"So I've heard," commented the listener. + +Francois' discreet eyes were downcast. Why did the visitor wish to +learn about the Saint-Prosper family? Why, instead of going, did he +linger and eye the man half-dubiously? Francois had sold so many of +his master's secrets he scented his opportunities with a sixth sense. + +"The marquis and General Saint-Prosper were warm friends?" asked the +land baron at length. + +"Yes, Monsieur; the death of the latter was a severe shock to the +Marquis de Ligne, but, _mon Dieu_!"--lifting his eyes--"it was as well +he did not live to witness the disgrace of his son." + +"His son's disgrace," repeated the land baron, eagerly. "Oh, you mean +running in debt--gaming--some such fashionable virtue?" + +"If betraying his country is a fashionable virtue," replied the valet. +"He is a traitor." + +Incredulity overspread the land baron's features; then, coincident +with the assertion, came remembrance of his conversation with the +marquis. + +"He certainly called him that," ruminated the visitor. Not only the +words, but the expression of the old nobleman's face recurred to him. +What did it mean unless it confirmed the deliberate charge of the +valet? The land baron forgot his disappointment over his inability to +see the marquis, and began to look with more favor on the man. + +"He surrendered a French stronghold," continued the servant, +softly. "Not through fear; oh, no; but for ambition, power, under +Abd-el-Kader, the Moorish leader." + +"How do you know this?" said the patroon, sharply. + +"My master has the report of the military board of inquiry," replied +the man, steadily. + +"Why has the matter attracted no public attention, if a board of +inquiry was appointed?" + +"The board was a secret one, and the report was suppressed. Few have +seen it, except the late King of France and my master." + +"And yourself, Francois?" said the patroon, his manner changing. + +"Oh, Monsieur!" Deprecatorily. + +"Since it has been inspected by such good company, I confess curiosity +to look at it myself. But your master is ill; I can not speak with +him; perhaps you--" + +"I, Monsieur!" Indignantly. + +"For five hundred francs, Francois?" + +Like oil upon the troubled waters, this assurance wrought a swift +change in the valet's manner. + +"To oblige Monsieur!" he answered, softly, but his eyes gleamed like a +lynx's. His stateliness was a sham; his perfidy and hypocrisy +surprised even the land baron. + +"You have no compunctions about selling a reputation, Francois?" + +"Reputation is that!" said the man, contemptuously snapping his +fingers, emboldened by his compact with the caller. "Francs and sous +are everything." + +"Lord, how servants imbibe the ideas of their betters!" quoth the +patroon, as he left the house and strode down the graveled walk, +decapitating the begonias with his cane. + +Furtively the valet watched his departing figure. "Why does he want +it?" he thought. + +Then he shrugged his shoulders. "What do I care!" + +"Francois!" piped a shrill and querulous treble from above, dispelling +the servant's conjectures. + +"Coming, my lord!" And the valet slowly mounted the broad stairway +amid a fusillade of epithets from the sick chamber. An hour before the +marquis had ordered him out of his sight as vehemently as now he +summoned him, all of which Francois endured with infinite patience and +becoming humility. + +Passing into the Rue Royale, the favorite promenade of the +Creole-French, the land baron went on through various thoroughfares +with French-English nomenclature into St. Charles Street, reaching his +apartments, which adjoined a well-known club. He was glad to stretch +himself once more on his couch, feeling fatigued from his efforts, and +having rather overtaxed his strength. + +But if his body was now inert, his mind was active. His thoughts +dwelt upon the soldier's reticence, his disinclination to make +acquaintances, and the coldness with which he had received his, +Mauville's, advances in the Shadengo Valley. Why, asked Mauville, +lying there and putting the pieces of the tale together, did not +Saint-Prosper remain with his new-found friends, the enemies of his +country? Because, came the answer, Abd-el-Kader, the patriot of +Algerian independence, had been captured and the subjection of the +country had followed. Since Algeria had become a French colony, +where could Saint-Prosper have found a safer asylum than in +America? Where more secure from "that chosen curse" for the man who +owes his weal to his country's woe? + +In his impatience to possess the promised proof, the day passed all +too slowly. He even hoped the count would call, although that worthy +brought with him all the "flattering devils, sweet poison and deadly +sins" of inebriation. But the count, like a poor friend, was absent +when wanted, and it was a distinct relief to the land baron when +Francois appeared at his apartments in the evening with a buff-colored +envelope, which he handed to him. + +"The suppressed report?" asked the latter, weighing it in his hand. + +"No, Monsieur; I could not find that. My master must have destroyed +it." + +The land baron made a gesture of disappointment and irritation. + +"But this," Francois hastened to add, "is a letter from the Duc +d'Aumale, governor of Algeria, to the Marquis de Ligne, describing the +affair. Monsieur will find it equally as satisfactory, I am sure." + +"How did you get it?" said the patroon, thoughtfully. + +"My master left the keys on the dresser." + +"And if he misses this letter--" + +"Oh, Monsieur, I grieve my master is so ill he could not miss anything +but his ailments! Those he would willingly dispense with. My poor +master!" + +"There! Take your long, hypocritical face out of my sight!" said +Mauville, curtly, at the same time handing him the promised reward, +which Francois calmly accepted. A moment later, however, he drew +himself up. + +"Monsieur has not paid for the right to libel my character," he said. + +"Your character!" + +"My character, Monsieur!" the valet replied firmly, and bowed in the +stateliest fashion of the old school as he backed out of the room with +grand obsequiousness. Deliberately, heavily and solidly, resounded the +echoing footsteps of Francois upon the stairway, like the going of +some substantial personage of unimpeachable rectitude. + +As the front door closed sharply the land baron threw the envelope on +the table and quietly surveyed it, the remnants of his pride rising in +revolt. + +"Have I then sunk so low as to read private communications or pry into +family secrets? Is it a family secret, though? Should it not become +common property? Why have they protected him? Did the marquis wish to +spare the son of an old friend? Besides"--his glance again seeking the +envelope--"it is my privilege to learn whether I have fought with a +gentleman or a renegade." But even as he meditated, he felt the +sophistry of this last argument, while through his brain ran the +undercurrent: "He has wooed her--won her, perhaps!" Passion, rather +than injured hauteur, stirred him. At the same time a great +indignation filled his breast; how Saint-Prosper had tricked her and +turned her from himself! + +And moving from the mantel upon which he was leaning, Mauville strode +to the table and untied the envelope. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A CYNICAL BARD + + +A dusty window looking out upon a dusty thoroughfare; a dusty room, +lighted by the dusty window, and revealing a dusty chair, a dusty +carpet and--probably--a dusty bed! Over the foot and the head of the +bed the lodger's wardrobe lay carelessly thrown. He had but to reach +up, and lo! his shirt was at hand; to reach down, and there were +collar and necktie! Presto, he was dressed, without getting out of +bed, running no risk from cold floors for cold feet, lurking tacks or +stray needles and pins! On every side appeared evidence of confusion, +or a bachelor's idea of order. + +Fastened to the head-board of the bed was a box, wherein were stored +various and divers articles and things. With as little inconvenience +as might be imagined the lodger could plunge his hand into his +cupboard and pull out a pipe, a box of matches, a bottle of ink, a +bottle of something else, paper and pins, and, last but not least, his +beloved tin whistle of three holes, variously dignified a _fretiau_, a +_frestele_, or a _galoubet_, upon which he played ravishing tunes. + +Oh, a wonderful box was Straws' little bedstead cupboard! As Phazma +said of it, it contained everything it should not, and nothing it +should contain. But that was why it was a poet's box. If it had held a +Harpagon's Interest Computer, instead of a well-thumbed Virgil, or +Oldcodger's Commercial Statistics for 184--, instead of an antique, +leather-covered Montaigne, Straws would have had no use for the +cupboard. It was at once his library--a scanty one, for the poet held +tenaciously to but a few books--his sideboard, his _secretaire_, his +music cabinet--giving lodgment in this last capacity to a single work, +"The Complete and Classical Preceptor for Galoubet, Containing Tunes, +Polkas and Military Pieces." + +Suspended from the ceiling hung a wooden cage, confining a mocking +bird that had become acclimated to the death-dealing atmosphere of +tobacco smoke, alcoholic fumes and poetry. All these the songster had +endured and survived, nay, thriven upon, lifting up its voice in happy +cadence and blithely hopping about its prison, the door of which +Straws sometimes opened, permitting the feathered captive the dubious +freedom of the room. Pasted on the foot-board of the bed was an old +engraving of a wandering musician mountebank, playing a galoubet as an +accompaniment to a dancing dog and a cock on stilts, a never-wearying +picture for Straws, with his migratory, vagabond proclivities. + +A bracket on the wall looked as though it might have been intended for +a piece of statuary, or a bit of porcelain or china decoration, but +had really been set there for his ink-pot, when he was mindful to work +in bed, although how the Muse could be induced to set foot in that old +nookery of a room could only be explained through the whims and +crotchets of that odd young person's character. + +Yet come she would and did, although she got dust on her flowing +skirts when she swept across the threshold; dust on her snow-white +gown--if the writers are to be believed in regard to its hue!--when +she sat down in the only chair, and dust in her eyes when she flirted +her fan. Fortunate was it for Straws that the Muse is a wayward, +freakish gipsy; a straggler in attics; a vagrant of the streets; +fortunately for him she is not at all the fine lady she has been +depicted! Doubtless she has her own reasons for her vagaries; perhaps +because it is so easy to soar from the hovel to fairy-land, but to +soar from a palace--that is obviously impossible; it is a height in +itself! So this itinerant maiden ever yawns amid scenes of splendor, +and, from time immemorial, has sighed for lofts, garrets, and such +humble places as Straws' earthly abode. + +At the present time, however, Straws was alone. This eccentric but +lovely young lady had not deigned to visit him that day. Once, indeed, +she had just looked in, but whisked back again into the hall, slamming +the door after her, and the pen, momentarily grasped, had fallen from +Straws' hand. Instead of reaching for the ink-bottle he reached in the +cupboard for the other bottle. Again she came near entering through +the window--having many unconventional ways of coming into a +room!--but after looking in for a moment, changed her mind after her +fashion and floated away into thin space like the giddy, volatile +mistress that she was. After that she appeared no more--probably +making a friendly call on some one else!--and Straws resigned himself +to her heartless perfidy, having become accustomed to her frivolous, +fantastic moods. + +Indeed, what else could he have done; what can any man do when his +lady-love deserts him, save to make the best of it? But he found his +consolation in a pipe; not a pipe of tobacco, nor yet a pipe of old +madeira, which, figuratively, most disappointed lovers seek; but a +pipe of melody, a pipe of flowing tunes and stirring marches; a pipe +of three holes, vulgarly termed by those who know not its high classic +origin from the Grecian reeds and its relation to the Pandian pipes, a +tin whistle! Thus was Straws classic in his taste, affecting the +instrument wherein Acis sighed his soul and breath away for fair +Galatea! + +It had been a lazy, purposeless day. He had awakened at noon; had +coffee and rolls in bed; had dressed, got up, looked out, lain down +again, read, and vainly essayed original composition. Now, lying on +his back, with the Complete and Classic Preceptor before him, he +soothed himself with such music "as washes the every-day dust from the +soul." For a pipe of three holes, his instrument had a remarkable +compass; melody followed melody--"The Harp that Once through Tara's +Hall," "She is Far from the Land," "In Death I shall Calm Recline," +and other popular pieces. When Straws missed a note he went back to +find it; when he erred in a phrase, he patiently repeated it. The +cadence in the last mournful selection, "Bid her not shed a tear of +sorrow," was, on his first attempt, fraught with exceeding discord, +and he was preparing once more to assault the citadel of grief, +entrenched with bristling high notes, when an abrupt knocking at the +door, followed by the appearance of a face marred by wrath and adorned +with an enormous pair of whiskers, interrupted his attack. + +"Sair," said this person, excitedly, with no more than his head in the +room, like a Punch and Judy figure peering from behind a curtain, "you +are ze one gran' nuisance! Eet is zat--what you call eet?--whistle! I +am crazee--crazee!" + +"Yes; you look it!" replied Straws, sympathetically. "Perhaps, if you +had a keep--" + +"I am not crazee!" vociferated the man. + +"No? Perhaps I could tell better, if I could see more of you. Judging +from the sample, I confess to curiosity for a full-length view. If you +will step in--" + +"I will not step in! I will step out! I will leave zis house! I will +leave--forever!" + +And the head vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, to be followed +by hasty footsteps down the stairway. + +"Now I can understand why Orpheus was torn to pieces," ruminated +Straws, mournfully surveying the offending pipe. "He played on the +lyre! Return to thy cupboard, O reed divine!"--putting the whistle back +in the box--"a vile world, as Falstaff says! Heigho!"--yawning--"life +is an empty void--which reminds me I have a most poetic appetite. What +shall I do"--and Straws sat up relinquishing his lounging attitude--"go +out, or have pot-luck in the room? Tortier's bouillabaisse would about +tickle the jaded palate. A most poetic dish, that bouillabaisse! +Containing all the fish that swim in the sea and all the herbs that grow +on the land! Thus speaks gluttony! Get thee behind me, odoriferous +temptation of garlic! succulent combination of broth and stew!" + +So saying, Straws sprang from his bed, lighted a charcoal fire in his +tiny grate; rummaged a bureau drawer and drew forth an end of bacon, a +potato or two, a few apples, an onion and the minor part of a loaf of +bread, all of which, except the bread, he sliced and thrust +indiscriminately into the frying-pan and placed over the blue flame. +Next from behind the mirror he produced a diminutive coffee pot into +which he measured, with extreme care, just so much of the ground +berry, being rather over-nice about his demitasse. Having progressed +thus far in his preparation for pot, or frying-pan luck--and indeed it +seemed a matter of luck, or good fortune, how that mixture would turn +out--he rapped on the floor with the heel of his boot, like the prince +in the fairy tale, summoning his attendant good genii, and in a few +moments a light tapping on the door announced the coming of a +servitor. + +Not a mighty wraith nor spook of Arabian fancy, but a very small girl, +or child, with very black hair, very white skin and very dark, +beautiful eyes. A daughter of mixed ancestry, yet with her dainty +hands and little feet, she seemed descended from sprites or sylphs. + +"Monsieur called," she said in her pretty dialect. + +"Yes, my dear. Go to Monsieur Tortier's, Celestina, and tell him to +give you a bottle of the kind Monsieur Straws always takes." + +"At once, Monsieur," she answered, very gravely, very seriously. And +Celestina vanished like a butterfly that flutters quickly away. + +"Now this won't be bad after all," thought Straws, sniffing at the +frying-pan which had begun to sputter bravely over the coals, while +the coffee pot gave forth a fragrant steam. "A good bottle of wine +will transform a snack into a collation; turn pot-luck into a feast!" + +As thus he meditated the first of night's outriders, its fast-coming +shadows, stole through the window; following these swift van-couriers, +night's chariot came galloping across the heavens; in the sky several +little clouds melted like Cleopatra's pearls. Musing before his fire +the poet sat, not dreaming thoughts no mortal ever dreamed before, but +turning the bacon and apples and stirring in a few herbs, for no +other particular reason than that he had them and thought he might as +well use them. + +"Celestina is taking longer than usual," he mused. "Perhaps, though, +Monsieur Tortier intends to surprise me with an unusually fine bottle. +Yes; that is undoubtedly the reason for the delay. He is hunting about +in the cellar for something a little out of the ordinary. But here is +Celestina now!" as the child reappeared, with footsteps so noiseless +the poet saw before he heard her. "Where is the bottle, my little +Ariel? It must be an extra fine vintage. Bless old Tortier's noble +heart!" + +"There isn't any bottle," said the child. "Monsieur said that your +account--" + +"The miserable old hunks! His heart's no bigger than a pin-head!" + +"Please, I'm so sorry!" spoke up Celestina, a suspicious moisture in +her eyes. + +"I know it, my dear," returned Straws. "Your heart is as big as his +whole body. One of your tears is more precious than his most priceless +nectar." + +"I beg-ged him--that's why I--I stayed so--long!" half-sobbed +Celestina. + +"There! there!" said Straws, wiping her eyes. "Of course it's very +tragic, but there's no use crying over spilled milk. Dear me, dear me; +what can we do? It's terrible, but you know the proverb: 'Every cloud +has a silver lining.' Perhaps this one has. I wish it had; or a golden +one! Think of a cloud of gold, Celestina! Wouldn't we be rich? What +would you do with it?" + +"I'd go to--Monsieur Tortier's and--and get the bottle," said the +child in an agony of distress. + +He lifted her on his knee, soothed her and held her in his arms, +stroking her dark hair. + +"I believe you would," he said. "And now, as we haven't got the golden +cloud, let us see how we can get on without it. How shall we conquer +that ogre, Monsieur Tortier? What would you suggest, Celestina?" + +The child looked into the fire, with eyes wide-open. + +"Come, be a good fairy now," urged Straws, "and tell me." + +"Why don't you write him a poem?" said Celestina, turning her eyes, +bright with excitement, upon him. + +"A poem! Non--by Jove, you're right! An inspiration, my dear! People +like to be thought what they are not. They want to be praised for +virtues foreign to themselves. The ass wants to masquerade as the +lion. 'Tis the law of nature. Now Monsieur Tortier is a Jew; a scrimp; +a usurer! Very well, we will celebrate the virtues he hath not in +verse and publish the stanza in the Straws' column. After all, we are +only following the example of the historians, and they're an eminently +respectable lot of people. Celestina! You watch the coffee pot, and +I'll grind out the panegyric!" + +The child knelt before the fire, but her glance strayed from the +steaming spout to the poet's face, as he sat on the edge of his bed +and rapidly scribbled. By the time the bacon was fairly done and the +other condiments in the frying-pan had turned to a dark hue, the +production was finished and triumphantly waved in mid air by the now +hopeful Straws. + +"I'll just read you a part of it, my dear!" he said. "It's not half +bad. But perhaps it would--bore you?" With exaggerated modesty. + +"Oh, I just love your poetry!" cried the girl, enthusiastically. + +"If everybody were only like you now! Isn't it too bad you've got to +grow up and grow wiser? But here's the refrain. There are six stanzas, +but I won't trouble you with all of them, my dear. One mustn't drive a +willing horse, or a willing auditor." + +And in a voice he endeavored to render melodious, with her rapt glance +fixed upon him, Straws read: + + "Sing, my Muse, the lay of the prodigal host! + Who enters here leaveth behind not hope. + Course follows course; entree, releve, ragout, + Ambrosial sauces, pungent, after luscious soup. + The landlord spurs his guests to fresh attack, + With fricassee, rechauffe and omelets; + A toothsome feast that Apicius would fain have served, + While wine, divine, new zeal in all begets. + Who is this host, my Muse, pray say? + Who but that prodigal, Tortier! + +"There, my dear," concluded Straws, "those feet are pretty wobbly to +walk, but flattery moves on lame legs faster than truth will travel +on two good ones. Besides, I haven't time to polish them properly, or +the mess in the frying-pan will spoil. Better spoil the poem than the +contents of the flesh pots! Now if--dear me, Celestina, if you haven't +let the coffee pot boil over!" + +"Oh, Monsieur," cried the child, almost weeping again. "I forgot to +watch it! I just couldn't while you were writing poetry." + +"The excuse more than condones the offense," continued the other. "But +as I was about to say, you take this poem to Monsieur Tortier, make +your prettiest bow and courtesy--let me see you make a courtesy." + +The girl bowed as dainty as a little duchess. + +"That should melt a heart of stone in itself," commented Straws. "But +Tortier's is flint! After that charming bow, you will give him my +compliments; Mr. Straws' compliments, remember; and, would he be kind +enough just to glance over this poem which Mr. Straws, with much +mental effort, has prepared, and which, if it be acceptable to +Monsieur Tortier, will appear in Mr. Straws' famous and much-talked-of +column in the paper?" + +"Oh, Monsieur, I can't remember all that!" said the girl. + +"Do it your own way then. Besides, it will be better than mine." + +With the poem hugged to her breast, the child fairly flew out of the +room, leaving Straws a prey to conflicting emotions. He experienced +in those moments of suspense all the doubts and fears of the nestling +bard or the tadpole litterateur, awaiting the pleasure and sentence of +the august editor or the puissant publisher. Tortier had been suddenly +exalted to the judge's lofty pedestal. Would he forthwith be an +imperial autocrat; turn tyrant or Thersites; or become critic, one of +"those graminivorous animals which gain subsistence by gorging upon +buds and leaves of the young shrubs of the forest, robbing them of +their verdure and retarding their progress to maturity"? + +Straws' anxiety was trouble's labor lost. Celestina appeared, the glad +messenger of success, and now, as she came dancing into the room, bore +in her arms the fruits of victory which she laid before the poet with +sparkling eyes and laughing lips. + +"So the poem was accepted?" murmured Straws. "Discerning Tortier! +Excellent dilettante! Let him henceforth be known as a man of taste!" +Here the poet critically examined the bottle. "Nothing vapid, thin or +characterless there!" he added, holding it before the blaze in the +grate. "Positively I'll dedicate my forthcoming book to him. 'To that +worshipful master and patron, the tasteful Tortier!' What did he say, +Celestina, when you tendered him the poem?" + +"At first he frowned and then he looked thoughtful. And then he gave +me some orange syrup. And then--O, I don't want to say!" A look of +unutterable concern displacing the happiness on her features. + +"Say on, my dear!" cried Straws. + +"He--he said he--he didn't think much of it as--O, I can't tell you; I +can't! I can't!" + +"Celestina," said the poet sternly, "tell me at once. I command you." + +"He said he didn't think much of it as poetry, but that people would +read it and come to his _cafe_ and--O dear, O dear!" + +"Beast! Brute! Parvenu! But there, don't cry, my dear. We have much to +be thankful for--we have the bottle." + +"Oh, yes," she said with conviction, and brightening a bit. "We have +the bottle." And as she spoke, "pop" it went, and Celestina laughed. +"May I set your table?" she asked. + +"After your inestimable service to me, my dear, I find it impossible +to refuse," he replied gravely. + +"How good you are!" she remarked, placing a rather soiled cloth, which +she found somewhere, over a battered trunk. + +"I try not to be, but I can't help it!" answered the poet modestly. + +"No; that's it; you can't help it!" she returned, moving lightly +around the room, emptying the contents of the frying-pan--now an +aromatic jumble--on to a cracked blue platter, and setting knife and +fork, and a plate, also blue, before him! "And may I wait on you, +too?" + +"Well, as a special favor--" He paused, appearing to ponder deeply and +darkly. + +Her eyes were bent upon his face with mute appeal, her suspense so +great she stood stock-still in the middle of the floor, frying-pan in +hand. + +"Yes; you may wait on me," he said finally, after perplexed and +weighty rumination. + +At that her little feet fairly twinkled, but her hand was ever so +careful as she took the coffee pot from the fire and put it near the +blue plate. A glass--how well she knew where everything was!--she +found in some mysterious corner and, sitting down on the floor, +cross-legged like a little Turk, a mere mite almost lost in the +semi-obscurity of the room, she polished it assiduously upon the +corner of the table cloth until it shone free from specks of dust; all +the time humming very lightly like a bird, or a housewife whose heart +is in her work. A strange song, a curious bit of melody that seemed to +spring from some dark past and to presage a future, equally sunless. + +"Your supper is ready, Monsieur," she said, rising. + +"And I am ready for it. Why, how nicely the table looks! Really, when +we both grow up, I think we should take a silver ship and sail to some +silver shore and live together there forever and evermore. How would +you like it?" + +Celestina's lips were mute, but her eyes were full of rapturous +response, and then became suddenly shy, as though afraid of their own +happiness. + +"May I pour your wine?" she asked, with downcast lashes. + +"Can you manage it and not spill a drop? Remember Cratinus wept and +died of grief seeing his wine--no doubt, this same vintage--spilt!" + +But Straws was not called upon to emulate this classic example. The +feat of filling his glass was deftly accomplished, and a moment later +the poet raised it with, "'Drink to me only with thine eyes!'" An +appropriate sentiment for Celestina who had nothing else to drink to +him with. "Won't you have some of this--what shall I call it?--hash, +stew or ration?" + +"Oh, I've had my supper," she answered. + +"How fortunate for you, my dear! It isn't exactly a company bill of +fare! But everything is what I call snug and cozy. Here we are high up +in the world--right under the roof--all by ourselves, with nobody to +disturb us--" + +A heavy footfall without; rap, rap, rap, on the door; no timid, +faltering knock, but a firm application of somebody's knuckles! + +"It's that Jack-in-the-box Frenchman," muttered the writer. "Go to the +devil!" he called out. + +The door opened. + +"You have an original way of receiving visitors!" drawled a languid +voice, and the glance of the surprised poet fell upon Edward Mauville. +"Really, I don't know whether to come in or not," continued the latter +at the threshold. + +"I beg your pardon," murmured Straws. "I thought it was a--" + +"Creditor?" suggested Mauville, with an amused smile. "I know the +class. Don't apologize! I am intruding. Quite a family party!" he went +on, his gaze resting upon Celestina and the interrupted repast. + +With his elegant attire, satin waistcoat and fine ruffles, he seemed +out of place in the attic nook of the Muse; a lordling who had +wandered by mistake into the wrong room. But he bore himself with the +easy assurance of a man who could adapt himself to any surroundings; +even to Calliope's shabby boudoir! + +"My dear," remarked the disconcerted bard, "get a chair for Mr. +Mauville. Or--I beg your pardon--would you mind sitting on the bed? +Won't you have some wine? Celestina, bring another glass." + +But the girl only stood and stared at the dark, courtly being who thus +unexpectedly had burst in upon them. + +"There isn't any more," she finally managed to say. "You've got the +only glass there is, please!" + +"Dear me; dear me!" exclaimed Straws. "How glasses do get broken! I +have so few occasions to use them, too, for I don't very often have +visitors." + +"You are surprised to see me?" continued Mauville, pleasantly, seating +himself on the edge of the bed. "Go on with your supper. You don't +mind my smoking while you eat?" + +[Illustration] + +"No; the odor of onions is a little strong, isn't it?" laughed the +other. "Rather strange, by the by, some of nature's best restoratives +should be rank and noisome, while her poisons, like the Upas tree, are +often sweet-smelling and agreeable?" + +"Yes," commented the land baron; "we make the worst faces over the +medicines that do us the most good." + +"I presume," said Straws, delighted at the prospect of an argument, +and forgetting his curiosity over the other's visit in this brief +interchange of words, "nature but calls our attention to the fact that +we may know our truest friends are not those with the sweetest +manners." + +"Heaven forbid!" remarked Mauville. "But how are you getting on with +your column? A surfeit of news and gossip, I presume? What a busy +fellow you are, to be sure! Nothing escapes through your seine. Big +fish or little fish, it is all one. You dress them up with alluring +sauce." + +The bard shook his head. + +"The net has been coming in dry," he said gloomily. "But that's the +way with the fish. Sometimes you catch a good haul, and then they all +disappear. It's been bad luck lately." + +"Perhaps I can make a cast for you," cried the patroon eagerly. + +"And bring up what?" asked the hack. + +"Something everybody will read; that will set the gossips talking." + +"A woman's reputation?" + +"No; a man's." + +"That is to be regretted," said Straws. "If, now, it were only a +woman's--.However, it's the next best thing to start the town +a-gossiping. I am much obliged to you for taking the trouble of +calling. All those stairs to climb, too!" + +"I was sure you would be glad to hear of it," remarked the patroon, +slowly, studying with his bright, insolent glance, the pale, +intellectual face of the scribbler. + +"Yes; there's only one thing stands in the way." + +"And that?" + +"I never publish anything I don't believe. Don't misunderstand me, +please." Pouring out a glass of wine. "Unfortunately I am so +incredulous! Isn't it a pity? I am such a carping cynic; a regular +skeptic that follows the old adage, 'Believe that story false that +ought not to be true.' It's such a detriment to my work, too! A pretty +scandal at the top of my column would make me famous, while a +sprinkling of libels and lampoons would enable me to move down a story +or two. But, after all, I'd feel lost in the luxury of a first floor +front chamber. So, you see, nature adjusts herself to our needs." + +"Makes the shell to fit the snail, as it were," commented the land +baron, patronizingly, gazing around the little cupboard of a room. "At +any rate," he added, in an effort to hide his dissatisfaction, "it's a +pleasure to become better acquainted with such a--what shall I +say?--whimsical fellow as yourself?" + +"That's it," returned the bard. "Whimsical!" + +"I dare say you have had many a chance to turn an honest penny or two, +if you had not been so skeptical, as you call it?" remarked the +patroon, significantly. "People, I presume, have even offered to pay +you for publishing the compliments of the season about their +neighbors?" + +"Well," answered the scribbler, laughing, "I may have Midas' longing +for gold, but I also have his ears. And the ears predominate. I am +such an ass I have even returned a fair petitioner's perfumed note! +Such a dainty little hand! How good the paper smelt! How devilish it +read! The world's idea about the devil always smelling of sulphur and +brimstone is a slander on that much abused person. I can positively +affirm that he smells of musk, attar, myrrh; as though he had lain +somewhere with a lady's sachet or scent-bag." + +"Really you should revise Milton," murmured the land baron, +carelessly, his interest quite gone. "But I must be moving on." And he +arose. "Good evening." + +"Good night!" said Straws, going to the door after his departing +guest. "Can you see your way down? Look out for the turn! And don't +depend too much on the bannisters--they're rather shaky. Well, he's +gone!" Returning once more to the room. "We're coming up in the world, +my dear, when such fashionable callers visit us! What do you think of +him?" + +"He is very--handsome!" replied the child. + +"Oh, the vanity of the sex! Is he--is he handsomer than I?" + +"Are you--handsome?" she asked. + +"Eh? Don't you think so?" + +"No-o," she cried, in a passion of distressed truthfulness. + +"Thank you, my dear! What a flattering creature you'll become, if you +keep on as you've begun! How you'll wheedle the men, to be sure!" + +"But mustn't I say what I think?" + +"Always! I'm a bad adviser! Think of bringing up a young person, +especially a girl, to speak the truth! What a time she'll have!" + +"But I couldn't do anything else!" she continued, with absorbing and +painful anxiety. + +"Don't, then! I'm instructing you to your destruction, but--don't! I'm +a philosopher in the School for Making Simpletons. What will you do +when you go out into the broad world with truth for your banner and +your heart on your sleeve?" + +"How could I have my heart on my sleeve?" asked Celestina. + +"Because you couldn't help it!" + +"Really and truly on my sleeve?" + +"Really and truly!" he affirmed, gravely. + +"How funny!" answered the girl. + +"No; tragic! But what shall we do now, Celestina?" + +"Wash the dishes," said the child, practically. + +"But, my dear, we won't need them until to-morrow," expostulated the +poet. "Precipitancy is a bad fault. Now, if you had proposed a little +music, or a fairy tale--" + +"Oh, I could wash them while you played, or told me a story," +suggested the child, eagerly. + +"That isn't such a bad idea," commented Straws, reflectively. + +"Then you will let me?" she asked. + +"Go ahead!" said the bard, and he reached for the whistle. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SWEETEST THING IN NATURE + + +The city, bustling and animated by day, like an energetic housewife, +was at night a gay demoiselle, awakening to new life and excitement. +The clerk betook himself to his bowling or billiards and the mechanic +to the circus, while beauty and fashion repaired to the concert room +or to the Opera Francais, to listen to Halevy or Donizetti. Restless +Americans or Irishmen rubbed elbows with the hurrying Frenchman or +Spaniard, and the dignified creole gentleman of leisure alone was +wrapped in a plenitude of dignity, computing probably the interest he +drew on money loaned these assiduous foreigners. + +Soldiers who had been granted leave of absence or had slipped the +guard at the camp on Andrew Jackson's battle-ground swaggered through +the streets. The change from a diet of pork and beans and army hard +tack was so marked that Uncle Sam's young men threw restraint to the +winds, took the mask balls by storm and gallantly assailed and made +willing prisoners of the fair sex. Eager to exchange their irksome +life in camp for the active campaign in Mexico, it was small wonder +they relieved their impatience by many a valiant dash into the +hospitable town. + +Carriages drove by with a rumble and a clatter, revealing a fleeting +glimpse of some beauty with full, dark eye. Venders of flowers +importuned the passers-by, doing a brisk business; the oyster and +coffee stands reminded the spectator of a thoroughfare in London on a +Saturday night, with the people congregating about the street stalls; +but the brilliantly illumined places of amusement, with their careless +patrons plainly apparent to all from without, resembled rather a +boulevard scene in the metropolis of France. "Probably," says a +skeptical chronicler, "here and there are quiet drawing-rooms, and +tranquil firesides, where domestic love is a chaste, presiding +goddess." But the writer merely presumes such might have been the +case, and it is evident from his manner of expression, he offers the +suggestion, or afterthought, charitably, with some doubts in his mind. +Certainly he never personally encountered the chaste goddess of the +hearth, or he would have qualified his words and made his statement +more positive. + +From the life of the streets, the land baron turned into a well-lighted +entrance, passing into a large, luxuriously furnished saloon, at one +end of which stood a table somewhat resembling a roulette board. +Seated on one side was the phlegmatic cashier, and, opposite him, the +dealer, equally impassive. Unlike faro--the popular New Orleans +game--no deal box was needed, the dealer holding the cards in his +hand, while a cavity in the center of the table contained a basket, +where the cards, once used, were thrown. A large chandelier cast a +brilliant light upon the scene. + +"_Messieurs, faites vos jeux_," drawled the monotonous voice of the +dealer, and expectation was keenly written on the faces of the double +circle of players--variously disclosed, but, nevertheless, apparent in +all; a transformation of the natural expression of the features; an +obvious nervousness of manner, or where the countenance was impassive, +controlled by a strong will, a peculiar glitter of the eyes, +betokening the most insatiable species of the gambler. As the dealer +began to shuffle together six packs of cards and place them in a row +on the table, he called out: + +"Nothing more goes, gentlemen!" + +The rapidity with which the cashier counted the winnings at a distance +and shoved them here and there with the long rake was amazing and +bewildering to the novice risking a few gold pieces for the first time +on the altar of chance. Sorting the gold pieces in even bunches, the +cashier estimated them in a moment; shoved them together; counted an +equal amount of fives with his fingers; made a little twirl in the +pile on the table; pushed it toward the winning pieces and left them +tumbled up together in pleasing confusion. + +"_Messieurs, faites vos_--" + +And the clinking went on, growing louder and louder, the clinking of +gold, which has a particularly musical sound, penetrating, +crystalline as the golden bells of Exodus, tinkling in the twilight of +the temple on the priest's raiment. The clinking, clinking, that +lingers in the brain long after, drawing the players to it night after +night; an intoxicating murmur, singing the desires that dominate the +world; the jingling that makes all men kin! + +"Oh, dear!" said a light feminine voice, as the rapacious rake +unceremoniously drew in a poor, diminutive pile of gold. "Why did I +play? Isn't it provoking?" + +"You have my sympathy, Mistress Susan," breathed a voice near her. + +Looking around, she had the grace to blush becomingly, and approached +Mauville with an expressive gesture, leaving Adonis and Kate at the +table. + +"Don't be shocked, Mr. Mauville," she began, hurriedly. "We were told +it was among the sights, and, having natural curiosity--" + +"I understand. Armed with righteousness, why should not one go +anywhere?" + +"Why, indeed?" she murmured. + +"But I'm afraid I'm taking you from your play?" + +"I'm not going to play any more to-night." + +"Tired, already?" + +"No; but--but I haven't a cent. That miserable table has robbed me of +everything. All I have left"--piteously--"are the clothes on my +back." + +"Something must have been the matter with your 'system.' But if a +temporary loan--" + +Susan was tempted, gazing longingly at the table, with the fever +burning in her. + +"No," she said, finally. "I _think_ I would win, but, of course, I +_might_ lose." + +"A wise reservation! Never place your fortune on the hazard of the +die." + +"But I have! What's the use of making good resolutions now? It's like +closing the barn-door after--" + +"Just so!" he agreed. "But it might have been worse." + +"How?" In dismay. "Didn't that stony-looking man rake in my last gold +piece? He didn't even look sorry, either. But what is the matter with +your arm?" The land baron's expression became ominous. "You shook +hands with your left hand. Oh, I see; the duel!" Lightly. + +"How did you hear about it?" asked Mauville, irritably. + +"Oh, in a roundabout way. Murder will out! And Constance--she was so +solicitous about Mr. Saint-Prosper, but rather proud, I believe, +because he"--with a laugh--"came off victorious." + +Susan's prattle, although accompanied by innocent glances from her +blue eyes, was sometimes the most irritating thing in the world, and +the land baron, goaded beyond endurance, now threw off his careless +manner and swore in an undertone by "every devil in Satan's +calendar." + +"Can you not reserve your soliloquy until you leave me?" observed +Susan, sweetly. "Otherwise--" + +"I regret to have shocked your ladyship," he murmured, satirically. + +"I forgive you." Raising her guileless eyes. "When I think of the +provocation, I do not blame you--so much!" + +"That is more than people do in your case," muttered the land baron +savagely. + +Susan's hand trembled. "What do you mean?" she asked, not without +apprehension regarding his answer. + +"Oh, that affair with the young officer--the lad who was killed in the +duel, you know--" + +Her composure forsook her for the moment and she bit her lip cruelly. + +"Don't!" she whispered. "I am not to blame. I never dreamed it would +go so far! Why should people--" + +"Why?" he interposed, ironically. + +Susan pulled herself together. "Yes, why?" she repeated, defiantly. +"Can women prevent men from making fools of themselves any more than +they can prevent them from amusing themselves as they will? To-day it +is this toy; to-morrow, another. At length"--bitterly--"a woman comes +to consider herself only a toy." + +Her companion regarded her curiously. "Well, well!" he ejaculated, +finally. "Losing at cards doesn't agree with your temper." + +"Nor being worsted by Saint-Prosper with yours!" she retorted +quickly. + +Mauville looked virulent, but Susan, feeling that she had retaliated +in ample measure, recovered her usual equanimity of temper and placed +a conciliatory hand sympathetically on his arm. + +"We have both had a good deal to try us, haven't we? But how stupid +men are!" she added suddenly. "As if you could not find other +consolation!" + +He directed toward her an inquiring glance. + +"Some time ago, while I was acting in London," resumed Susan, +thoughtfully, "the leading lady refused to receive the attentions of a +certain odious English lord. She was to make her appearance in a piece +upon which her reputation was staked. Mark what happened! She was +hissed! Hissed from the stage! My lord led this hostile demonstration +and all his hired claqueurs joined in. She was ruined; ruined!" +concluded Susan, smiling amiably. + +"You are ingenious, Mistress Susan--not to say a trifle diabolical. +Your plan--" + +She opened her eyes widely. "I have suggested no plan," she +interrupted, hurriedly. + +"Well, let us sit down and I will tell you about a French officer +who--But here is a quiet corner, Mistress Susan, and if you will +promise not to repeat it, I will regale you with a bit of interesting +gossip." + +"I promise--they always do!" she laughed. + +For such a frivolous lady, Susan was an excellent listener. She, who +on occasions chattered like a magpie, was now silent as a mouse, +drinking in the other's words with parted lips and sparkling eyes. +First he showed her the letter Francois had brought him. Unmarked by +postal indications, the missive had evidently been intrusted to a +private messenger of the governor whose seal it bore. Dated about +three years previously, it was written in a somewhat illegible, but +not unintelligible, scrawl, the duke's own handwriting. + +"I send you, my dear marquis," began the duke, "a copy of the secret +report of the military tribunal appointed to investigate the charges +against your kinsman, Lieut. Saint-Prosper, and regret the finding of +the court should have been one of guilty of treason. + +"Saint-Prosper and Abd-el-Kader met near the tomb of a marabout. From +him the French officer received a famous ruby which he thrust beneath +his zaboot--the first fee of their compact. That night when the town +lay sleeping, a turbaned host, armed with yataghans, stole through the +flowering cactuses. Sesame! The gate opened to them; they swarmed +within! The soldiers, surprised, could render little resistance; the +ruthless invaders cut them down while they were sleeping or before +they could sound the alarm. The bravest blood of France flowed +lavishly in the face of the treacherous onslaught; blood of men who +had been his fastest friends, among whom he had been so popular for +his dauntless courage and devil-may-care temerity! But a period, +fearfully brief, and the beloved tri-color was trampled in the dust; +the barbarian flag of the Emir floated in its place. + +"All these particulars, and the part Saint-Prosper played in the +terrible drama, Abd-el-Kader, who is now our prisoner, has himself +confessed. The necessity for secrecy, you, my dear Marquis, will +appreciate. The publicity of the affair now would work incalculable +injury to the nation. It is imperative to preserve the army from the +taint of scandal. The nation hangs on a thread. God knows there is +iniquity abroad. I, who have labored for the honor of France and +planted her flag in distant lands, look for defeat, not through want +of bravery, but from internal causes. A matter like this might lead to +a popular uprising against the army. Therefore, the king wills it +shall be buried by his faithful servants." + +As Mauville proceeded Susan remained motionless, her eyes growing +larger and larger, until they shone like two lovely sapphires, but +when he concluded she gave a little sigh of pleasure and leaned back +with a pleased smile. + +"Well?" he said, finally, after waiting some moments for her to +speak. + +"How piquantly wicked he is!" she exclaimed, softly. + +"Piquantly, indeed!" repeated the land baron, dryly. + +"And he carries it without a twinge! What a petrified conscience!" + +"I believe you find him more interesting than ever?" said Mauville, +impatiently. + +"Possibly!" Languidly. "An exceptional moral ailment sometimes makes a +man more attractive--like a--an interesting subject in a hospital, you +know! But I have always felt," she continued, with sudden seriousness, +"there was something wrong with him. When I first saw him, I was sure +he had had no ordinary past, but I did not dream it was quite so--what +shall we call it--" + +"Unsavory?" suggested her companion. + +"That accounts for his unwillingness to talk about Africa," went on +Susan. "Soldiers, as a rule, you know, like to tell all about their +sanguinary exploits. But the tented field was a forbidden topic with +him. And once when I asked him about Algiers he was almost rudely +evasive." + +"He probably lives in constant fear his secret will become known," +said Mauville, thoughtfully. "As a matter of fact, the law provides +that no person is to be indicted for treason unless within three years +after the offense. The tribunal did not return an indictment; the +three years have just expired. Did he come to America to make sure of +these three years?" + +But Susan's thoughts had flitted to another feature of the story. + +"How strange my marquis should be connected with the case! What an old +compliment-monger he was! He vowed he was deeply smitten with me." + +"And then went home and took to his bed!" added Mauville, grimly. + +"You wretch!" said the young woman, playfully. "So that is the reason +the dear old molly-coddle did not take me to any of the gay suppers he +promised? Is it not strange Saint-Prosper has not met him?" + +"You forget the marquis has been confined to his room since his brief, +but disastrous, courtship of you. His infatuation seems to have +brought him to the verge of dissolution." + +"Was it not worth the price?" she retorted, rising. "But I see my +sister and Adonis are going, so I must be off, too. So glad to have +met you!" + +"You are no longer angry with me?" + +"No; you are very nice," she said. "And you have forgiven me?" + +"Need you ask?" Pressing her hand. "Good evening, Mistress Susan!" + +"Good evening. Oh, by the way, I have an appointment with Constance to +rehearse a little scene together this evening. Would you mind loaning +me that letter?" + +"With pleasure; but remember your promise." + +"Promise?" repeated the young woman. + +"Not to tell." + +"Oh, of course," said Susan. + +"But if you shouldn't--" + +"Then?" + +"Then you might say the marquis, your friend and admirer, gave you +the letter. It would, perhaps, be easier for you to account for it +than for me." + +"But if the marquis should learn--" began the other, half-dubiously. + +"He is too ill for anything except the grave." + +"Oh, the poor old dear!" + +She looked at the gaming table with its indefatigable players and then +turned to Kate and Adonis who approached at that moment. "How did you +come out, Adonis?" + +"Out," he said, curtly. + +"Lucky in love, unlucky at"--began Kate. + +"Then you must be very unlucky in love," he retorted, "for you were a +good winner at cards." + +"Oh, there are exceptions to that rule," said Kate lazily, with a +yawn. "I'm lucky at both--in New Orleans!" + +"I have perceived it," retorted Adonis, bitterly. + +"Don't quarrel," Susan implored. Regarding the table once more, she +sighed: "I'm so sorry I came!" + +But her feet fairly danced as she flew towards the St. Charles. She +entered, airy as a saucy craft, with "all sails in full chase, ribbons +and gauzes streaming at the top," and, with a frou-frou of skirts, +burst into Constance's room, brimful of news and importance. She +remained there for some time, and when she left, it was noteworthy her +spirits were still high. In crossing the hall, her red stockings +became a fitting color accompaniment to her sprightly step, as she +moved over the heavy carpet, skirts raised coquettishly, humming with +the gaiety of a young girl who has just left boarding school. + +"A blooming, innocent creature!" growled an up-the-river planter, +surveying her from one of the landings. "Lord love me, if she were +only a quadroon, I'd buy her!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A DEBUT IN THE CRESCENT CITY + + +A versatile dramatic poet is grim Destiny, making with equal facility +tragedy, farce, burletta, masque or mystery. The world is his inn, +and, like the wandering master of interludes, he sets up his stage in +the court-yard, beneath the windows of mortals, takes out his figures +and evolves charming comedies, stirring melodramas, spirited +harlequinades and moving divertissement. But it is in tragedy his +constructive ability is especially apparent, and his characters, +tripping along unsuspectingly in the sunny byways, are suddenly +confronted by the terrifying mask and realize life is not all pleasant +pastime and that the Greek philosophy of retribution is nature's law, +preserving the unities. When the time comes, the Master of events, +adjusting them in prescribed lines, reaches by stern obligation the +avoidless conclusion. + +Consulting no law but his own will, the Marquis de Ligne had lived as +though he were the autocrat of fate itself instead of one of its +servants, and therefore was surprised when the venerable playwright +prepared the unexpected denouement. In pursuance of this end, it was +decreed by the imperious and incontrovertible dramatist of the human +family that this crabbed, vicious, antiquated marionette should wend +his way to the St. Charles on a particular evening. Since the day at +the races, the eccentric nobleman had been ill and confined to his +room, but now he was beginning to hobble around, and, immediately with +returning strength, sought diversion. + +"Francois," he said, "what is there at the theater to-night?" + +"Comic opera, my lord?" + +The marquis made a grimace. "Comic opera outside of Paris!" he +exclaimed, with a shrug of the shoulders. + +"A new actress makes her debut at the St. Charles." + +"Let it be the debut, then! Perhaps she will fail, and that will amuse +me." + +"Yes, my lord." + +"And, by the way, Francois, did you see anything of a large envelope, +a buff-colored envelope, I thought I left in my secretary?" + +"No, my lord." But Francois became just a shade paler. + +"It is strange," said the marquis, half to himself, "what could have +become of it! I destroyed other papers, but not that. You are sure, +Francois, you did not steal it?" + +By this time the servant's knees began to tremble, and, had the +marquis' eyesight been better, he could not have failed to detect the +other's agitation. But the valet assumed a bold front, as he asked: + +"Why should I have stolen it?" + +"True, why?" grumbled the marquis. "It would be of no service to you. +No; you didn't take it. I believe you honest--in this case!" + +"Thank you, my lord!" + +"After all, what does it matter?" muttered the nobleman to himself. +"What's in a good name to-day--with traitors within and traitors +without? 'Tis love's labor lost to have protected it! We've fostered a +military nest of traitors. The scorpions will be faithful to nothing +but their own ends. They'll fight for any master." + +Recalled to his purpose of attending the play by Francois' bringing +from the wardrobe sundry articles of attire, the marquis underwent an +elaborate toilet, recovering his good humor as this complicated +operation proceeded. Indeed, by the time it had reached a triumphant +end and the valet set the marquis before a mirror, the latter had +forgotten his dissatisfaction at the government in his pleasure with +himself. + +"Too much excitement is dangerous, is it?" he mumbled. "I am afraid +there will be none at all. A stage-struck young woman; a doll-like +face, probably; a milk-and-water performance! Now, in the old days +actors were artists. Yes, artists!" he repeated, as though he had +struck a chord that vibrated in his memory. + +Arriving at the theater, he was surprised at the scene of animation; +the line of carriages; the crowd about the doors and in the entrance +hall! Evidently the city eagerly sought novelty, and Barnes' company, +offering new diversion after many weeks of opera, drew a fair +proportion of pleasure-seekers to the portals of the drama. The noise +of rattling wheels and the banging of carriage doors; the aspect of +many fair ladies, irreproachably gowned; the confusion of voices from +venders hovering near the gallery entrance--imparted a cosmopolitan +atmosphere to the surroundings. + +"You'd think some well-known player was going to appear, Francois!" +grumbled the marquis, as he thrust his head out of his carriage. +"Looks like a theater off the Strand! And there's an orange-girl! A +dusky Peggy!" + +The vehicle of the nobleman drew up before the brilliantly-lighted +entrance. Mincingly, the marquis dismounted, assisted by the valet; +within he was met by a _loge_ director who, with the airs of a +Chesterfield, bowed the people in and out. + +"Your ticket, sir!" said this courteous individual, scraping unusually +low. + +The marquis waved his hand toward his man, and Francois produced the +bits of pasteboard. Escorted to his box, the nobleman settled himself +in an easy chair, after which he stared impudently and inquisitively +around him. + +And what a heterogeneous assemblage it was; of how many nationalities +made up; gay bachelors, representatives of the western trade and +eastern manufacturers; a fair sprinkling of the military element, +seeking amusement before departing for the front, their brass buttons +and striking new uniforms a grim reminder of the conflict waging +between the United States and Mexico; cotton brokers, banking agents, +sugar, tobacco and flour dealers; some evidently English with their +rosy complexions, and others French by their gesticulations! And among +the women, dashing belles from Saratoga, proud beauties from +Louisville, "milliner-martyred" daughters of interior planters, and +handsome creole matrons, in black gowns that set off their white +shoulders! + +In this stately assemblage--to particularize for a moment!--was seated +the (erstwhile!) saintly Madame Etalage, still proud in her bearing, +although white as an angel, and by her side, her carpet knight, an +extravagant, preposterous fop. A few seats in front of her prattled +the lovely _ingenue_, little Fantoccini, a biting libeller of other +actresses, with her pitiless tongue. To her left was a shaggy-looking +gentleman, the Addison of New Orleans' letters, a most tolerant +critic, who never spoke to a woman if he could avoid doing so, but +who, from his philosophical stool, viewed the sex with a conviction it +could do no wrong; a judgment in perspective, as it were! + +The marquis paid little attention to the men; it was the feminine +portion of the audience that interested him, and he regarded it with a +gloating leer, the expression of a senile satyr. Albeit a little on +the seamy side of life, his rank and wealth were such that he himself +attracted a good deal of attention, matronly eyes being turned in his +direction with not unkindly purport. The marquis perceived the stir +his presence occasioned and was not at all displeased; on the +contrary, his manner denoted gratification, smiling and smirking from +bud to blossom and from blossom to bud! + +How fascinating it was to revel in the sight of so much youth and +beauty from the brink of the grave whereon he stood; how young it made +him feel again! He rubbed his withered hands together in childish +delight, while he contemplated the lively charms of Fantoccini or +devoted himself to the no less diverting scrutiny of certain other +dark-haired ladies. + +While occupied in this agreeable pastime the nobleman became dimly +conscious the debutante had appeared and was greeted with the moderate +applause of an audience that is reserving its opinion. "Gad," said one +of the dandies who was keenly observing the nobleman, "it's +fashionable to look at the people and not at the actors!" And he +straightway stared at the boxes, assuming a lackadaisical, languishing +air. Having taken note of his surroundings to his satisfaction, the +marquis at length condescended to turn his eye-glass deliberately and +quizzically to the stage. His sight was not the best, and he gazed for +some time before discerning a graceful figure and a pure, oval face, +with dark hair and eyes. + +"Humph, not a bad stage presence!" he thought. "Probably plenty of +beauty, with a paucity of talent! That's the way nowadays. The +voice--why, where have I heard it before? A beautiful voice! What +melody, what power, what richness! And the face--" Here he wiped the +moisture from his glasses--"if the face is equal to the voice, she has +an unusual combination in an artist." + +Again he elevated the glass. Suddenly his attenuated frame straightened, +his hand shook violently and, the glasses fell from his nerveless +fingers. + +"Impossible!" he murmured. But the melody of those tones continued to +fall upon his ears like a voice from the past. + +When the curtain went down on the first act there was a storm of +applause. In New Orleans nothing was done by halves, and Constance, +as Adrienne Lecouvreur, radiant in youth and the knowledge of +success, was called out several times. The creoles made a vigorous +demonstration; the Americans were as pleased in their less impulsive +way; and in the loges all the lattices were pushed up, "a compliment +to any player," said Straws. To the marquis, the ladies in the +_loges_ were only reminiscent of the fashionable dames, with bare +shoulders and glittering jewels, in the side boxes of old Drury +Lane, leaning from their high tribunals to applaud the Adrienne of +twenty years ago! + +He did not sit in a theater in New Orleans now, but in London town, +with a woman by his side who bent beneath the storm of words she knew +were directed at her. As in a dream he lingered, plunged in thought, +with no longer the cynical, carping expression on his face as he +looked at the stage, but awed and wonder-stricken, transported to +another scene through the lapse of years that folded their shadowy +wings and made the past to-day. Two vivid pictures floated before him +as though they belonged to the present: Adrienne, bright, smiling and +happy, as she rushed into the green room, with the plaudits of the +multitude heard outside; Adrienne, in her last moments, betrayed to +death! + +They were applauding now, or was it but the mocking echo of the past? +The curtain had descended, but went up again, and the actress stood +with flowers showered around her. Save that she was in the springtime +of life, while the other had entered summer's season; that her art was +tender and romantic, rather than overwhelming and tragic, she was the +counterpart of the actress he had deserted in London; a faithful +prototype, bearing the mother's eyes, brow and features; a moving, +living picture of the dead, as though the grave had rolled back its +stone and she had stepped forth, young once more, trusting and +innocent. + +The musical bell rang in the wine room, where the worshipers of +Bacchus were assembled, the signal that the drop would rise again in +five minutes. At the bar the imbibers were passing judgment. + +"What elegance, deah boy! But cold--give me Fantoccini!" cried the +carpet knight. + +"Fantoccini's a doll to her!" retorted the worldly young spark +addressed. + +"A wicked French doll, then! What do you think?" Turning to the local +Addison. + +"Sir, she 'snatches a grace beyond the reach of art'!" replied that +worthy. + +"You ask for a criticism, and he answers in poetry!" retorted the +first speaker. + +"'Tis only the expression of the audience!" interposed another voice. + +"Oh, of course, Mr. Mauville, if you, too, take her part, that is the +end of it!" + +The land baron's smile revealed withering contempt, as with eyes +bright with suppressed excitement, and his face unusually sallow, he +joined the group. + +"The end of it!" he repeated, fixing his glance upon the captious +dandy. "The beginning, you mean! The beginning of her triumphs!" + +"Oh, have your own way!" answered the disconcerted critic. + +Mauville deliberately turned his back. "And such dunces sit in +judgment!" he muttered to the scholar. + +"Curse me, Mauville's in a temper to-night!" said the spark in a low +voice. "Been drinking, I reckon! But it's time for the next act!" + +Punches and juleps were hastily disposed of, and the imbibers quickly +sought their places. This sudden influx, with its accompanying +laughter and chattering, aroused the marquis from his lethargy. He +started and looked around him in bewilderment. The noise and the light +conversation, however, soon recalled his mind to a sense of his +surroundings, and he endeavored to recover his self-possession. + +Could it be possible it was but a likeness his imagination had +converted into such vivid resemblance? A sudden thought seized him and +he looked around toward the door of the box. + +"Francois!" he called, and the valet, who had been waiting his +master's pleasure without, immediately appeared. + +"Sit down, Francois!" commanded the marquis. "I am not feeling well. I +may conclude to leave soon, and may need your arm." + +The servant obeyed, and the nobleman, under pretense of finding more +air near the door, drew back his chair, where he could furtively watch +his man's face. The orchestra ceased; the curtain rose, and the valet +gazed mechanically at the stage. In his way, Francois was as _blase_ +as his master, only, of course, he understood his position too well to +reveal that lassitude and ennui, the expression of which was the +particular privilege of his betters. He had seen many great actresses +and heard many peerless singers; he had delved after his fashion into +sundry problems, and had earned as great a right as any of the +nobility to satiety and defatigation in his old age, but unfortunately +he was born in a class which may feel but not reveal, and mask alike +content and discontent. + +Again those tones floated out from the past; musical, soft! The +marquis trembled. Did not the man notice? No; he was still looking +gravely before him. Dolt; did he not remember? Could he not recall the +times beyond number when he had heard that voice; in the ivy-covered +cottage; in the garden of English roses? + +Suddenly the valet uttered an exclamation; the stolid aspect of his +face gave way to an obvious thrill of interest. + +"My lord!" he cried. + +"An excellent actress, Francois; an excellent actress!" said the +marquis, rising. "Is that my coat? Get it for me. What are you +standing there for? Your arm! Don't you see I am waiting?" + +Overwrought and excitable, he did not dare remain for the latter +portion of the drama; better leave before the last act, he told +himself, and, dazed by the reappearance of that vision, the old man +fairly staggered from the box. + +The curtain fell for the last time, and Barnes, with exultation, stood +watching in the wings. She had triumphed, his little girl; she had won +the great, generous heart of New Orleans. He clapped his hands +furiously, joining in the evidences of approval, and, when the ovation +finally ceased and she approached, the old manager was so overcome he +had not a word to say. She looked at him questioningly, and he who had +always been her instructor folded her fondly to his breast. + +"I owe it all to you," she whispered. + +"Pooh!" he answered. "You stole fire from heaven. I am but a +theatrical, bombastic, barnstorming Thespian." + +"Would you spoil me?" she interrupted, tenderly. + +"You are your mother over again, my dear! If she were only here now! +But where is Saint-Prosper? He has not yet congratulated you? He, our +good genius, whose generosity has made all this possible!" And Barnes +half-turned, when she placed a detaining hand on his arm. + +"No, no!" + +"Why, my dear, have you and he--" + +"Is it not enough that you are pleased?" replied Constance, hastily, +with a glance so shining he forgot all further remonstrances. + +"Pleased!" exclaimed Barnes. "Why, I feel as gay as Momus! But we'll +sing Te Deum later at the festive board. Go now and get ready!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +LAUGHTER AND TEARS + + +A supper was given the company after the performance by the manager, +to which representatives of the press--artful Barnes!--had been +invited. Of all the merry evenings in the bohemian world, that was one +of the merriest. Next to the young girl sat the Count de Propriac, his +breast covered with a double row of medals. Of the toasts drunk to +Constance, the manager, poets Straws and Phazma, etc., unfortunately +no record remains. Of the recollections of the wiry old lady; the +impromptu verse of the rhymsters; the roaring speech of Mr. Barnes; +the song and dainty flower dance by Susan and Kate--only the bare +facts have descended to the chronicler. + +So fancy must picture the wreaths of smoke; the superabundance of +flowers, the fragrance of cigars mingling with the perfume of fading +floral beauties; the pale dark-eyed girl presiding, upon her dusky +hair a crown of laurel, set there, despite her protestations, by +Phazma and Straws; the devotion of the count to his fair neighbor; the +almost superhuman pride of noisy Barnes; the attention bestowed by +Susan upon Saint-Prosper, while through his mind wandered the words of +a French song: + + "Adieu, la cour, adieu les dames; + Adieu les filles et les femmes--" + +Intermixed with this sad refrain the soldier's thoughts reverted to +the performance, and amidst the chatter of Susan, he reviewed again +and again the details of that evening. Was this the young girl who +played in school-houses, inns or town halls, he had asked himself, +seated in the rear of the theater? How coldly critical had been her +auditors; some of the faces about him ironical; the bored, tired faces +of men who had well-nigh drained life's novelties; the artificially +vivacious faces of women who played at light-heartedness and gaiety! +Yet how free from concern had she been, as natural and composed as +though her future had not depended upon that night! When she won an +ovation, he had himself forgotten to applaud, but had sat there, +looking from her to the auditors, to whom she was now bound by ties of +admiration and friendliness. + +"Don't you like her?" a voice next to him had asked. + +Like her? He had looked at the man, blankly. + +"Yes," he had replied. + +Then the past had seemed to roll between them: the burning sands; the +voices of the troops; the bugle call! In his brain wild thoughts had +surged and flowed--as they were surging and flowing now. + +"Is he not handsome, Constance's new admirer?" whispered Susan. "What +can he be saying? She looks so pleased! He is very rich, isn't he?" + +"I don't know," answered Saint-Prosper, brusquely. + +Again the thoughts surged and surged, and the past intruded itself! +Reaching for his glass, he drank quickly. + +"Don't you ever feel the effects of wine?" asked the young woman. + +His glance chilled her, it seemed so strange and steely! + +"I believe you are so--so strong you don't even notice it," added +Susan, with conviction. "But you don't have half as good a time!" + +"Perhaps I enjoy myself in my way," he answered. + +"What is your way?" she asked quickly. "You don't appear to be wildly +hilarious in your pleasures." And Susan's bright eyes rested on him +curiously. "But we were speaking about the count and Constance. Don't +you think it would be a good match?" she continued with enthusiasm. +"Alas, my titled admirer got no further than the beginning. But men +are deceivers ever! When they _do_ reach the Songs of Solomon, they +pass on to Exodus!" + +"And leave the fair ones to Lamentations," said Straws, who had caught +her last remarks. + +"Or Revelations!" added Phazma. + +At the sound of their laughter, Constance looked coldly their way, +until a remark from the count at her right, and, "As I was saying, my +dear," from the old lady at her left, engrossed the young girl's +attention once more. But finally the great enemy of joy--the grim +guardian of human pleasure--the reaper whose iron hands move ever in a +circle, symbolical of eternity--finally, Time reminded Barnes that the +hour had surely arrived when the curtain should descend upon these +festivities. So he roared out a last blithe farewell, and the guests +departed one by one, taking with them flowers in memory of the +occasion, until all had left save Constance, the count, Saint-Prosper +and the manager. Barnes was talking somewhat incoherently, holding the +soldier by the coat and plunging into successive anecdotes about stage +folk, while Saint-Prosper, apparently listening, observed the diplomat +and Constance, whose conversation he could overhear. + +"As I said to the Royal Infanta of Spain, flattery flies before truth +in your presence, Mademoiselle," sighed the count. And then raising +her hand to his lips, "_Ah, ma chere Mademoiselle, que je vous +adore!_" he whispered. + +She withdrew it hastily, and, ogling and gesticulating, he bowed +himself out, followed by the manager. + +Leaning against the chair, her figure outlined by the glow from the +crystal chandelier, her face in shadow, the hand the diplomat had +pressed to his lips resting in the exposed light on the mahogany, the +gaiety went out of her face, and the young girl wearily brushed the +hair from her brow. As if unaware of the soldier's presence, she +glanced absently at the table in its wrecked glory, and, throwing her +lace wrap over her arm, was moving toward the door, when he spoke. + +"Miss Carew!" + +She paused, standing with clasped hands before him, while the scarf +slipped from her arm and fell at her feet. + +"May I not also tell you how glad I am--that you succeeded to-night?" + +"I dislike congratulations!" she said, indifferently. + +He looked at her quickly, but her eyes expressed only apathy. In his a +sudden gleam of light appeared. + +"From me, you mean?" The light became brighter. + +She did not answer. His self-control was fast ebbing. + +"You underestimate your favors, if you fancy they are easily +forgotten!" + +A crimson flush extended to her brow; the unconcern died out of her +eyes. + +"I do not understand," she answered, slowly. + +"When a woman says 'I do not understand,' she means 'I wish to +forget'." + +Her wide-open glance flashed ominously to his; she clasped and +unclasped her fingers. + +"Forget what?" she said, coldly. + +"Nameless nothings!" he returned. "A smile--a glance--nothing to you, +perhaps, but"--the set expression of his face giving way to abrupt +passion!--"everything to me! Perhaps I had not meant to say this, but +it seems as though the words must come out to-night. It may be"--his +voice vibrating with strange earnestness--"for once I want to be +myself. For weeks we have been--friends--and then suddenly you begin +to treat me--how? As though I no longer existed! Why did you deceive +me--let me drift on? Because I was mute, did you think I was blind? +Why did I join the strollers--the land baron accused me of following +you across the country. He was right; I was following you. I would not +confess it to myself before. But I confess it now! It was a fool's +paradise," he ended, bitterly. + +She shrank back before his vehement words; something within her +appeared violated; as though his plea had penetrated the sanctity of +her reserve. + +"Would it not be well to say nothing about deception?" she replied, +and her dark eyes swept his face. Then, turning from him abruptly, she +stepped to the window, and, drawing aside the lace curtains +mechanically, looked out. + +The city below was yet teeming with life, lights gleaming everywhere +and shadowy figures passing. Suddenly out of the darkness came a +company of soldiers who had just landed, marching through the streets +toward the camping ground and singing as they went. + +The chorus, like a mighty breath of patriotism, filled her heart to +overflowing. It seemed as though she had heard it for the first time; +had never before felt its potency. All the tragedy of war swept before +her; all that inspiring, strange affection for country, kith and kin, +suddenly exalted her. + +[Illustration] + +Above the tramping of feet, the melody rose and fell on the distant +air, dying away as the figures vanished in the gloom. With its love of +native land, its expression of the unity of comradeship and ties +stronger than death, the song appeared to challenge an answer; and, +when the music ceased, and only the drum-beats still seemed to make +themselves heard, she raised her head without moving from her position +and looked at him to see if he understood. But though she glanced at +him, she hardly saw him. In her mind was another picture--the betrayed +garrison; the soldiers slain!--and the horror of it threw such a film +over her gaze that he became as a figure in some distressing dream. + +An inkling of her meaning--the mute questioning of her eyes--the dread +evoked by that revolting vision of the past--were reflected in his +glance. + +"Deceived you?" he began, and his voice, to her, sounded as from afar. +"How--what--" + +"Must it be--could it be put into words?" + +The deepest shadows dwelt in her eyes; shadows he could not penetrate, +although he still doggedly, yet apprehensively, regarded her! Watching +her, his brow grew darker. + +"Why not?" he continued, stubbornly. + +Why? The dimness that had obscured her vision lifted. Now she saw him +very plainly, indeed; tall and powerful; his face, harsh, intense, as +though by the vigor of physical and mental force he would override any +charge or imputation. + +Why? She drew herself up, as he quickly searched her eyes, bright with +the passions that stirred her breast. + +"You told me part of your story that day in the property wagon," she +began, repugnance, scorn and anger all mingling in her tones. "Why did +you not tell me the rest?" + +His glance, too, flashed. Would he still profess not to understand +her? His lips parted; he spoke with an effort. + +"The rest?" he said, his brow lowering. + +"Yes," she answered quickly; "the stain upon your name!--the garrison +sold!--the soldiers killed!--murdered!--" + +She had turned to him swiftly, fiercely, with her last words, but +before the look of sudden shame and dread on his face, her eyes +abruptly fell as though a portion of his dishonor had inexplicably +touched her. He made no attempt to defend himself--motionless he stood +an instant--then, without a word, he moved away. At the threshold he +paused, but she did not look up--could not! A moment; an eternity! + +"Why don't you go?" she cried. "Why don't you go?" + +The door opened, closed; she was alone. + +Pale as the dying lilies on the table, she stepped toward the +threshold, when Barnes, chipper and still indefatigable, entered by +another door. He was too inspired with festal intoxication to observe +her agitation. + +"What, my dear!" he exclaimed cheerily. "Has he gone? Did you make up +your little differences? Did you settle your quarrel before he leaves +for Mexico?" + +"For Mexico!" she repeated, mechanically. + +"Of course. He has his commission in the army and leaves early in the +morning. But you look tired, my dear. I declare you are quite +pale"--pinching her cheek--"rest will bring back the roses, though." + +Impulsively she threw her arms around his neck. + +"Why, why, what's this?" he said, patting her head. + +"I only care for you," she whispered. "My dear! My dear!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE PASSING OF A FINE GENTLEMAN + + +"'Perhaps she will fail, and that will amuse me,'" ruminated Francois +on his high seat next to the coachman, repeating the marquis' words, +as they drove home after the nobleman's precipitous retreat from the +theater. "Well, he didn't look as though he had been particularly +amused. But no wonder he was startled! It even"--reviewing the +impression first made upon him at sight of the actress--"sent a shiver +through me!" Here the carriage drew up sharply before the marquis' +home, and Francois, hastily alighting, threw open the door. + +"Eh? What? Are we here?" muttered the marquis, starting from the +corner where he had been reclining. + +He arose with some difficulty; traversed the sidewalk and the +shell-strewn path to the house which loomed darkly before them; paused +at the foot of the stairs where he breathed heavily, complaining of +the oppressiveness of the air; and finally, with the assistance of the +valet, found himself once more in his room, the sick chamber he had +grown to detest! Here alone--having dismissed the servant as soon as +possible--he moved restlessly to and fro, pondering deeply. Since the +moment when he had seen and recognized his daughter, all the buoyancy +which had given his wasted figure a sort of galvanic vitality seemed +to vanish. It was like the exhaustion of a battery, the collapse of +the sustaining power. + +"That resemblance can not be coincidence!" he thought. "Oh, errors of +the past, you come home in our old age when the limbs are faltering +and life is failing!" + +Going to the _secretaire_, he took out a box that had not been opened +in years, and, with trembling fingers, turned over many papers. He +shivered, and, thinking it was cold, stirred the fire. Returning to +the secretary, he took from the box a package tied with a ribbon +still, after the lapse of these many years, slightly fragrant, and he +breathed that perfume, so faint, so subtle, while recollections smote +him like a knife. + +Its scent was familiar to him; it seemed to bring life to the dead, +and for the moment in his mind's eye he saw her glowing figure, the +love of his youth, with flashing, revengeful eyes and noble mien. He +cowered over the desk, as if shrinking from an avenging spirit, while +the perfume, like opium, filled his brain with strange fantasies. He +strove to drown remembrance, but some force--it seemed not his +own!--drove him irresistibly to untie that ribbon, to scrutinize many +old theater programs and to gaze upon a miniature in ivory depicting a +woman in the loveliness of her charms, but whose striking likeness to +the young actress he had just seen filled his heart with strange fear. +Some power--surely it could not have been his will which rebelled +strenuously!--impelled him to open those letters and to read them word +for word. The tenderness of the epistles fell on his heart as though +to scorch it, and he quivered like a guilty wretch. His eyes were +fascinated by these words in her last letter: "Should you desert me +and your unborn child, your end will be miserable. As I believe in +retribution, I am sure you will reap as you have sown." + +Suddenly the reader in a frenzy threw the letter to the floor and +trampled on it. He regarded the face in the miniature with fear and +hatred, and dashing it into the drawer, called down maledictions on +her. He ceased abruptly, weak and wavering. + +"I am going insane," he said, laughing harshly. "Fool! To let that +woman's memory disturb me. So much for her dire prophecy!" And he +snapped his fingers and dropped the letter in the fire. + +"What can her curse avail?" he said aloud. "She is gone, turned to +ashes like that paper and there is no life after this one. All then is +nothing--emptiness--a blank! I need rest. It is this cursed dyspepsia +which has made me nervous. Something to compose me, and then to bed!" + +In spite of soothing powders, however, he passed a restless night and +arose unrefreshed, but ordered his valet to bring one of his lightest +suits, and, having dressed, he set a white flower upon his coat, while +the servant proceeded to apply various pigments to the wrinkled face, +until it took on a mocking semblance to the countenance of a man +fifteen years younger. The marquis leered at himself in the pier-glass +and assumed a jauntiness of demeanor he was far from feeling. + +"I do not look tired or worried, Francois?" + +"Not at all, my lord," replied the obsequious valet. "I never saw you, +my lord, appear so young and well." + +"Beneath the surface, Francois, there is age and weakness," answered +the marquis in a melancholy tone. + +"It is but a passing indisposition, my lord," asserted the servant, +soothingly. + +"Perhaps. But, Francois"--peering around--"as I look over my shoulder, +do you know what I see?" + +The almost hideous expression of the roue's face alarmed the servant. + +"No, my lord, what is it?" + +"A figure stands there in black and is touching me. It is the spirit +of death, Francois. You can not see it, but there it is--" + +"My lord, you speak wildly." + +"I have seen some strange things, Francois. The dead have arisen. And +I have received my warning. Soon I shall join those dark specters +which once gaily traversed this bright world. A little brandy and +soda, Francois." + +The servant brought it to him. The marquis leered awfully over his +shoulder once more. "Your health, my guest!" he exclaimed, laughing +harshly. "But my hat, Francois; I have business to perform, important +business!" + +He ambled out of the room. On the street he was all politeness, +removing his hat to a dark brunette who rolled by in her carriage, and +pausing to chat with another representative of the sex of the blond +type. Then he gaily sauntered on, until reaching the theater he +stopped and made a number of inquiries. Who was the manager of +Constance Carew? Where was he to be found? "At the St. Charles hotel?" +He was obliged to Monsieur, the ticket-seller, and wished him +good-day. + +Entering the hotel, he sent his card to Barnes, requesting an +interview, and the manager, overcome by the honor of such a visit, +responded with alacrity. The customary formalities over, the nobleman +congratulated Barnes on the performance and led the conversation to +the young actress. + +"Pardon my curiosity," he said, with apparent carelessness, "but I'm +sure I remember an actress of the same name in London--many years +ago?" + +"Her mother, undoubtedly," replied the manager, proudly. + +"She was married, was she not, to--" + +"A scoundrel who took her for his wife in one church and repudiated +the ties through another denomination!" + +"Ah, a French-English marriage!" said the marquis, blandly. "An old +device! But what was this lover's name?" + +"This husband's, my lord!" + +"Lover or husband, I fancy it is all the same to her now," sneered the +caller. "She has passed the point where reputation matters." + +"Her reputation is my concern, Monsieur le Marquis!" + +"You knew her?" asked the nobleman, as though the conversation wearied +him. "And she was faithful to his memory? No scandals--none of those +little affairs women of her class are prone to? There"--as Barnes +started up indignantly--"spare me your reproaches! I'm too feeble to +quarrel. Besides, what is it to me? I was only curious about her--that +is all! But she never spoke the name of her husband?" + +"Not even to her own child!" + +"She does not know her father's name?" repeated the marquis. "But I +thank you; Mademoiselle Constance is so charming I must needs call to +ask if she were related to the London actress! Good-day, Monsieur! You +are severe on the lover. Was it not the fashion of the day for the +actresses to take lovers, or for the fops to have an opera girl or a +comedienne? Did your most popular performers disdain such diversions?" +he sneered. "_Pardie_, the world has suddenly become moral! A +gentleman can no longer, it would seem, indulge in gentlemanly +follies." + +Mumbling about the decadence of fashion, the marquis departed, his +manner so strange the manager gazed after him in surprise. + +With no thought of direction, his lips moving, talking to himself in +adynamic fashion, the nobleman walked mechanically on until he reached +the great cathedral. The organ was rolling and voices arose sweet as +those of seraphim. He hesitated at the portal and then laughed to +himself. "Well has Voltaire said: 'Pleasure has its time; so, too, has +wisdom. Make love in thy youth, and in old age, attend to thy +salvation.'" He repeated the latter words, but, although he paused at +the threshold and listened, he did not enter. + +As he stood there, uncertain and trembling, a figure replete with +youth and vigor approached, and, glancing at her, an exclamation +escaped him that caused her to pause and turn. + +"You are not well," she said, solicitously. "Can I help you?" + +"It is nothing, nothing!" answered the marquis, ashy pale at the sight +of her and the proximity of that face which regarded him with womanly +sympathy. "Go away." + +"At least, let me assist you. You were going to the cathedral? Come!" + +His hand rested upon her strong young arm; he felt himself too weak to +resist, so, together--father and daughter!--they entered the +cathedral. Side by side they knelt--he to keep up the farce, fearing +to undeceive her--while yet only mocking words came to the old man's +heart, as the bitterness of the situation overwhelmed him. She was a +daughter in whom a prince might have found pride, but he remained +there mute, not daring to speak, experiencing all the tortures of +remorse and retribution. Of what avail had been ambition? How had it +overleaped content and ease of mind! Into what a nest of stings and +thorns his loveless marriage had plunged him! And now but the black +shadow remained; he walked in the darkness of unending isolation. So +he should continue to walk straight to the door of death. + +He scarcely heard the organ or the voice of the priest. The high +altar, with its many symbols, suggested the thousands that had +worshiped there and gone away comforted. Here was abundant testimony +of the blessings of divine mercy in the numerous costly gifts and in +the discarded crutches, and here faith had manifested itself for +generations. + +The marquis' throat was hoarse; he could have spoken no words if he +had tried. He laughed in his heart at the gifts of the grateful ones; +those crosses of ivory and handsome lamps were but symbols of +barbarism and superstition. The tablets, with their inscriptions, +_"Merci"_ and _"Ex voto,"_ were to him absurd, and he gibed at the +simple credulity of the people who could thus be misled. All these +evidences of thanksgiving were but cumulative testimony that men and +women are like little children, who will be pleased over fairy tales +or frightened over ghost stories. The promise of paradise, but the +fairy tale told by priests to men and women; the threats of +punishment, the ghost stories to awe them! A malicious delight crept +into his diseased imagination that he alone in the cathedral possessed +the extreme divination, enabling him to perceive the emptiness of all +these signs and symbols. He labored in a fever of mental excitement +and was only recalled to himself as his glance once more rested upon +the young girl. + +He became dimly conscious that people were moving past them, and he +suddenly longed to cry out, "My child!" but he fought down the +impulse. There could be no turning back now at the eleventh hour; the +marquis was a philosopher, and did not believe that, in a twinkling of +an eye, a man may set behind all that has transpired and regard it as +naught. Something within held him from speaking to her--perhaps his +own inherent sense of the consistency of things; his appreciation of +the legitimate finale to a miserable order of circumstances! Even +pride forbade departure from long-established habit. But while this +train of thought passed through his mind, he realized she was +regarding him with clear, compassionate eyes, and he heard her voice: + +"Shall we go now? The services are over." + +He obeyed without question. + +"Over!" + +Those moments by her side would never return! They were about to part +to meet no more on earth. He leaned heavily upon her arm and his steps +were faltering. Out into the warm sunshine they passed, the light +revealing more plainly the ravages of time in his face. + +"You must take a carriage," she said to the old man. + +"Thank you, thank you," he replied. "Leave me here on the bench. I +shall soon be myself. I am only a little weak. You are good to an old +man. May I not"--asking solely for the pleasure of hearing her +speak--"may I not know the name of one who is kind to an old man?" + +"My name is Constance Carew." + +He shook as with the palsy. "A good name, a good name!" he repeated. +"I remember years ago another of that name--an actress in London. A +very beautiful woman, and good! But even she had her detractors and +none more bitter than the man who wronged her. You--you resemble her! +But there, don't let me detain you. I shall do very well here. You are +busy, I dare say." + +"Yes, I should be at rehearsal," she replied regretfully. + +"At rehearsal!" he repeated. "Yes!--yes!--. But the stage is no place +for you!" he added, suddenly. "You should leave it--leave it!" + +She looked at him wonderingly. "Is there nothing more I can do for +you?" + +"Nothing! Nothing! Except--no, nothing!" + +"You were about to ask something?" she observed with more sympathy. + +"If you would not think me presuming--if you would not deem it an +offense--you remind me of one I loved and lost--it is so long ago +since I felt her kiss for the last time--I am so near the grave--" + +With tears in her eyes, she bent her head and her fresh young lips +just touched his withered brow. + +"Good-by," she said. "I am so sorry for you!" And she was gone, +leaving him sitting there motionless as though life had departed. + +A rattling cab that clattered noisily past the cabildo and calaboza, +and swung around the square, aroused the marquis. He arose, stopped +the driver, and entered the rickety vehicle. + +"The law office of Marks and Culver," said the marquis. + +The man lashed his horse and the attenuated quadruped flew like a +winged Pegasus, soon drawing up before the attorneys' office. +Fortunately Culver was in, and, although averse to business on any +day--thinking more of his court-yard and his fountain than of his law +books--this botanist-solicitor made shift to comply with the marquis' +instructions and reluctantly earned a modest fee. He even refused to +express surprise at my lord's story; one wife in London, another in +Paris; why, many a southern gentleman had two families--quadroons +being plentiful, why not? Culver unobtrusively yawned, and, with fine +courtesy, bowed the marquis out. + +Slowly the latter retraced his steps to his home; his feet were heavy +as lead; his smile was forced; he glanced frequently over his +shoulder, possessed by a strange fantasy. + +"I think I will lie down a little," he said to his valet. "In this +easy chair; that will do. I am feeling well; only tired. How that mass +is repeated in my mind! That is because it is Palestrina, Francois; +not because it is a vehicle to salvation, employed by the gibbering +priests. Never let your heart rule your head, boy. Don't mistake +anything for reality. 'What have you seen in your travels?' was asked +of Sage Evemere. 'Follies!' was the reply. 'Follies, follies +everywhere!' We never live; we are always in the expectation of +living." + +He made an effort to smile which was little more than a grimace. + +"A cigar, Francois!" + +"My lord, are you well?--" + +The marquis flew into a rage and the valet placed an imported weed in +his master's hand. + +"A light, Francois!" + +The valet obeyed. For a moment the strong cigar seemed to soothe the +old man, although his hand shook like an aspen as he held it. + +"Now, bring me my Voltaire," commanded the marquis. "The volume on the +table, idiot! Ah! here is what I wish: 'It takes twenty years to bring +man from the state of embryo, and from that of a mere criminal, as he +is in his first infancy, to the point when his reason begins to dawn. +It has taken thirty centuries to know his structure; it would take +eternity to know something of the soul; it takes but an instant to +kill him.' But an instant; but an instant!" he repeated. + +He puffed feebly at the cigar. + +"It is cold here, Francois." + +The servant consulted the thermometer. + +"It is five degrees warmer than you are accustomed to, my lord," he +replied. + +"Bring me the thermometer," commanded the old man. "You should not +lie, Francois. It is a bad fault in servants. Leave it to your +masters; it is a polite vice. The privilege of the world's potentates, +diplomats and great people. Never fall into the rut of lying, +Francois, or you will soon outlive your usefulness as a valet." + +"You can see that I speak the truth, my lord," was the response, as +calm as ever, for nothing disturbed or ruffled this ideal servant. + +He held out the thermometer for the marquis' inspection and the latter +examined it carefully. The cigar fell from his fingers to the floor. +The attentive valet picked it up and threw it into the grate. + +"I believe, Francois," stammered the marquis, "that the fault lies +with me. It is I--I, who am growing cold like death." + +"Yes, my lord," answered the calm and imperturbable servant. + +"'Yes?' you blockhead!" shrieked the master. "Do you know what you are +saying?" + +"Well, no, then, my lord," responded the unmoved valet. + +"Yes and no!" shouted the marquis in a voice that was wildly +discordant. "What do you mean?" + +"Whatever my lord pleases," was the quiet response. + +"_Mon Dieu_! I'll discharge you." + +The servant only smiled. + +"Why did you smile?" + +"Oh, my lord--" + +"Was it not that you thought it a good joke for a dying man to +discharge his servant?" + +"My lord is quick to catch the humorous side of anything," returned +Francois. + +"Begone, idiot! You are waiting for my death to discharge you. I can +see it in your eyes. Yet stay, Francois, for, if you leave me, I shall +be alone. You will not leave me?" + +"As my lord desires," was Francois' response. + +"I imagine I should feel better if I had my footbath." + +The servant removed the shoes and silken stockings from his master's +feet and propped him up in a chair, throwing a blanket over his +shoulders and heaping more wood upon the fire in the grate. + +"More fire, you idiot!" cried the marquis, peevishly. "Do you not see +that I am freezing?" + +"It is ten degrees above the temperature my lord always ordered," +retorted Francois, coolly. + +"Ten degrees! Oh, you wish to remind me that the end is approaching? +You do not dare deny it!" The valet shrugged his shoulders. + +"But I am not gone yet." He wagged his head cunningly and began to +laugh to himself. His mind apparently rambled, for he started to chant +a French love song in a voice that had long since lost its capacity +for a sustained tone. The words were distinct, although the melody was +broken, and the spectacle was gruesome enough. As he concluded he +looked at the valet as if for approbation and began to mumble about +his early love affairs. + +"Bah, Francois," he said shrilly, "I'll be up to-morrow as gay as +ever. _Vive l'amour! vive la joie!_ It was a merry life we led, eh, +Francois?" + +"Merry indeed, my lord." + +"It kept you busy, Francois. There was the little peasant girl on the +Rhine. What flaxen hair she had and eyes like the sky! Yet a word of +praise--a little flattery--" + +"My lord was irresistible," said the valet with mild sarcasm. + +"Let me see, Francois, what became of her?" + +"She drowned herself in the river." + +"That is true. I had forgotten. Well, life is measured by pleasures, +not by years, and I was the prince of coxcombs. Up at ten o'clock; +no sooner on account of the complexion; then visits from the +tradespeople and a drive in the park to look at the ladies. It was +there I used to meet the English actress. 'Twas there, with her, I +vowed the park was a garden of Eden! What a scene, when my barrister +tried to settle the case! Fortunately a marriage in England was not +a marriage in France. I saw her last night, Francois"--with an +insane look--"in the flesh and blood; as life-like as the night +before we took the stage for Brighton!" Suddenly he shrieked and a +look of terror replaced the vain, simpering expression. + +"There, Francois!" Glancing with awe behind him. And truly there stood +a dark shadow; a gruesome presence. His face became distorted and he +lapsed into unconsciousness. + +The valet gazed at him with indifference. Then he went to an inner +room and brought a valise which he began packing carefully and +methodically. After he had completed this operation he approached the +dressing table and took up a magnificent jeweled watch, which he +examined for a moment before thrusting it into his pocket. A snuff +box, set with diamonds, and several rings followed. Francois with the +same deliberation opened a drawer and took out a small box which he +tried to open, and, failing, forced the lid with the poker. At this, +my lord opened his eyes, and, in a weak voice, for his strength had +nearly deserted him, demanded: + +"What are you doing, Francois?" + +"Robbing you, my lord," was the slow and dignified response. + +The marquis' eyes gleamed with rage. He endeavored to call out, but +his voice failed him and he fell back, trembling and overcome. + +"Thief! Ingrate!" he hissed, hoarsely. + +"I beg you not to excite yourself, my lord," said the stately valet. +"You are already very weak and it will hasten the end." + +"Is this the way you repay me?" + +"My lord will not need these things soon." + +"Have you no gratitude?" stammered the marquis, whose physical and +mental condition was truly pitiable. + +"Gratitude for having been called 'idiot,' 'dog,' and 'blockhead' +nearly all my life! I am somewhat lacking in that quality, I fear." + +"Is there no shame in you?" + +"Shame?" repeated Francois, as he proceeded to ransack another drawer. +"There might have been before I went into your service, my lord. Yes; +once I felt shame for you. It was years ago, in London, when you +deserted your beautiful wife. When I saw how she worshiped you and +what a noble woman she was, I confess I felt ashamed that I served one +of the greatest blackguards in Europe--" + +"Oh, you scoundrel--" exclaimed the marquis, his face becoming a +ghastly hue. + +"Be calm, my lord. You really are in need of all your energy. For +years I have submitted to your shameful service. I have been at the +beck and call of one of the greatest roues and villains in France. +Years of such association would somewhat soil any nature. Another +thing, my lord, I must tell you, since you and I are settling our last +accounts. For years I have endured your miserable King Louis Philippe. +A king? Bah! He fled from the back door! A coward, who shaved his +whiskers for a disguise." + +"No more, rascal!" + +"Rascal yourself, you worn-out, driveling breath of corruption! It is +so pleasant to exercise a gentleman's privilege of invective! Ah, here +is the purse. _Au revoir_, my lord. A pleasant dissolution!" + +But by this time the marquis was speechless, and Francois, taking the +valise in hand, deferentially left the room. He locked the door behind +him and thrust the key into his pocket. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE OLD CEMETERY + + +The engagement at the new St. Charles was both memorable and +profitable, The Picayune, before the fifties, an audacious sheet, +being especially kind to the players. "This paper," said a writer of +the day, "was as full of witticisms as one of Thackeray's dreams after +a light supper, and, as for Editors Straws and Phazma, they are poets +who eat, talk and think rhyme." The Picayune contained a poem +addressed to Miss Carew, written by Straws in a cozy nook in the +veranda at the Lake End, with his absinthe before him and the remains +of an elaborate repast about him. It was then quite the fashion to +write stanzas to actresses; the world was not so prosaic as it is now, +and even the president of the United States, John Quincy Adams, penned +graceful verses to a fair ward of Thalia. + +One noon, a few days after the opening performance, several members of +the company were late for rehearsal and Barnes strode impatiently to +and fro, glancing at his watch and frowning darkly. To avenge himself +for the remissness of the players, he roared at the stage carpenters +who were constructing a balcony and to the supers who were shifting +flats to the scenery room. The light from an open door at the back of +the stage dimly illumined the scene; overhead, in the flies, was +intense darkness; while in front, the auditorium yawned like a chasm, +in no wise suggestive of the brilliant transformation at night. + +"Ugh!" said Susan, standing in one of the entrances. "It is like +playing to ghosts! Fancy performing to an audience of specters! +Perhaps the phantoms of the past really do assemble in their old +places on occasions like this. Only you can't hear them applaud or +laugh." + +"Are you looking for admirers among ghosts?" remarked Hawkes, +ironically. + +"Don't," she returned, with a little shiver. + +"So, ladies and gentlemen, you are all here at last?" exclaimed +Barnes, interrupting this cheerful conversation. "Some of you are late +again to-day. It must not happen again. Go to Victor's, Moreau's, or +Miguel's, as much as you please. If you have a headache or a heartache +in consequence, that is your own affair, but I am not to be kept +waiting the next day." + +"Victor's, indeed!" retorted the elastic old lady. "As if--" + +"No one supposed, Madam, that at your age"--began the manager. + +"At my age! If you think--" + +"Are you all ready?" interrupted Barnes, hastily, knowing he would be +worsted in any argument with this veteran player. "Then clear the +stage! Act first!" And the rehearsal began. + +If the audience were specters, the performers moved, apparently +without rhyme or reason, mere shadows on the dimly lighted stage; +enacting some semblance to scenes of mortal life; their jests and +gibes, unnatural in that comparatively empty place; their voices, out +of the semi-darkness, like those of spirits rehearsing acts of long +ago. In the evening it would all become an amusing, bright-colored +reality, but now the barrenness of the scenes was forcibly apparent. + +"That will do for to-day," said the manager at the conclusion of the +last act. "To-morrow, ladies and gentlemen, at the same time. And any +one who is late--will be fined!" + +"Changing the piece every few nights is all work and no play," +complained Susan. + +"It will keep you out of mischief, my dear," replied Barnes, gathering +up his manuscripts. + +"Oh, I don't know about that!" returned Miss Susan, with a defiant +toss of the head, as she moved toward the dressing-room where they +had left their wraps. It was a small apartment, fairly bright and +cheery, with here and there a portrait against the wall. Above the +dressing-table hung a mirror, diamond-scratched with hieroglyphic +scrawls, among which could be discerned a transfixed heart, spitted +like a lark on an arrow, and an etching of Lady Gay Spanker, with +cork-screw curls. Taglioni, in pencil caricature, her limbs +"divinely slender," gyrated on her toes in reckless abandon above +this mute record of names now forgotten. + +"What lovely roses, Constance!" exclaimed Susan, as she entered, +bending over a large bouquet on one of the chairs. "From the count, I +presume?" + +"Yes," indifferently answered the young girl, who was adjusting her +hat before the mirror. + +"How attentive he is!" cooed Susan, her tones floating in a higher +register. "Poor man! Enjoy yourself while you may, my dear," she went +on. "When youth is gone, what is left? Women should sow their wild +oats as well as men. I don't call them wild oats, though, but +paradisaical oats. The Elysian fields are strewn with them." + +As she spoke, her glance swept her companion searchingly, and, in that +brief scrutiny, Susan observed with inward complacency how pale the +other was, and how listless her manner! Their common secret, however, +made Susan's outward demeanor sweetly solicitous and gently +sympathetic. Her mind, passing in rapid review over recent events, +dwelt not without certain satisfaction upon results. True, every night +she was still forced to witness Constance's success, which of itself +was wormwood and gall to Susan, to stand in the wings and listen to +the hateful applause; but the conviction that the sweets of popular +favor brought not what they were expected to bring, was, in a way, an +antidote to Susan's dissatisfaction. + +A little knowledge is a dangerous thing and can sometimes be made +annoying; in Susan's case it was a weapon sharpened with honeyed +phrase and consolatory bearing, for she was not slow to discover nor +to avail herself of the irritating power this knowledge gave her. +Constance's pride and reticence, however, made it difficult for Susan +to discern when her shafts went true. Moreover, although harboring no +suspicion of Susan's dissimulation, she instinctively held aloof from +her and remained coldly unresponsive. Perhaps in the depths of Susan's +past lurked something indefinable which threw its shadow between them, +an inscrutable impediment; and her inability to penetrate the young +actress' reserve, however she might wound her, awakened Susan's +resentment. But she was too world-wise to display her irritation. She +even smiled sweetly now, as confidante to confidante, and, turning to +her impulsively, said: + +"Let me help you on with your cloak, dear?" + +Out of the quiet, deserted theater, isolated from external din, to the +busy streets, where drays went thundering by, and industry manifested +itself in resounding clatter, was a sudden, but not altogether +unwelcome, change to Constance. Without waiting for the manager, who +paused at the rear entrance to impress his final instructions upon a +stolid-looking property-man, she turned quickly into the noisy +thoroughfares. + +On and on her restlessness led her, conscious of the clangor of +vehicles and voices and yet remote from them; past those picturesque +suggestions of the one-time Spanish rulers in which the antiquarian +could detect evidence of remote Oriental infusion; past the silken +seductions of shops, where ladies swarmed and hummed like bees around +the luscious hive; past the idlers' resorts, from whence came the +rat-a-tat of clinking billiard balls and the louder rumble of falling +ten-pins. + +In a window of one of these places, a club with a reputation for +exclusiveness, a young man was seated, newspaper in hand, a cup of +black coffee on a small table before him, and the end of a cigar +smoking on the tray where he had placed it. With a yawn, he had just +thrown aside the paper and was reaching for the thick, dark +beverage--his hand thin and nervous--when, glancing without, he caught +sight of the actress in the crowd. Obeying a sudden impulse, he arose, +picking up his hat which lay on a chair beside him. + +"Yo' order am ready in a moment, Mr. Mauville," said a colored +servant, hurrying toward the land baron as the latter was leaving. + +"I've changed my mind and don't want it," replied the other curtly. + +And sauntering down the steps of the club with ill-concealed +impatience, he turned in the direction the young girl had taken, +keeping her retreating figure in view; now, so near her in the crowded +street, he could almost touch her; then, as they left the devious +ways, more distant, but ever with his eyes bent upon her. He had +almost spoken, when in the throng he approached within arm's length, +but something--he knew not what--restrained him, and a press of people +separated them. Only for a moment, and then he continued the +questionable pleasure of following her. + +Had she turned, she would probably have seen her pursuer, but absorbed +in thought, she continued on her way, unconscious of his presence. On +and on she hurried, until she reached the tranquil outskirts and +lingered before the gate of one of the cemeteries. At the same time +the land baron slackened his footsteps, hesitating whether to advance +or turn back. After a moment's indecision, she entered the cemetery; +her figure, receding in the distance, was becoming more and more +indistinct, when he started forward quickly and also passed through +the gate. + +The annual festival of the dead, following All Saint's day, was being +observed in the burial ground. This commemoration of those who have +departed in the communion--described by Tertullian in the second +century as an "apostolic tradition," so old was the sacrifice!--was +celebrated with much pomp and variety in the Crescent City. In the +vicinity of the cemetery gathered many colored _marchandes_, their +heads and shoulders draped in shawls and fichus of bright, diversified +hues; before them, perambulating booths with baskets of molasses candy +or _pain-patate_. Women, dressed in mourning, bore to the tomb flowers +and plants, trays of images, wreaths, crosses, anchors of dried +immortelles and artificial roses. Some were accompanied by priests and +acolytes with censers, the former intoning the service: + + Fidelium Deus omnium conditor-- + +A solemn peace fell upon the young girl as she entered and she seemed +to leave behind her all disturbing emotions, finding refuge in the +supreme tranquillity of this ancient city of the dead. She was +surrounded by a resigned grief, a sorrow so dignified that it did not +clash with the sweeter influences of nature. The monotonous sound of +the words of the priests harmonized with the scene. The tongue of a +nation that had been resolved into the elements was fitting in this +place, where time and desolation had left their imprint in discolored +marble, inscriptions almost effaced, and clambering vines. + + --Animabus famulorum-- + +To many the words so mournfully intoned brought solace and surcease +from sorrow. The sisters of charity moved among the throng with grave, +pale faces, mere shadows of their earthly selves, as though they had +undergone the first stage of the great metamorphosis which is +promised. To them, who had already buried health, vitality and +passion, was not this chant to the dead, this strange intoning of +words, sweeter than the lullaby crooned by a nurse to a child, more +stirring than the patriotic hymn to a soldier, and fraught with more +fervor than the romantic dream of a lover? + + Ut indulgentiam, quam semper optaverunt-- + +The little orphan children heard and heeded no more than the butterfly +which lighted upon the engraven words, "Dust to dust," and poised +gracefully, as it bathed in the sunshine, stretching its wings in +wantonness of beauty. + + Piis supplicationibus consequantur-- + +Now Constance smiled to see the little ones playing on the steps of a +monument. It was the tomb of a great jurist, a man of dignity during +his mundane existence, his head crammed with those precepts which are +devised for the temporal well-being of that fabric, sometimes termed +society, and again, civilization. The poor waifs, with suppressed +laughter--they dared not give full vent to their merriment with the +black-robed sisters not far away--ran around the steps, unmindful of +the inscription which might have been written by a Johnson, and as +unconscious of unseemly conduct as the insects that hummed in the +grass. + +"Hush!" whispered one of the sisters, as a funeral cortege approached. + +The children, wide-eyed in awe and wonder, desisted in their play. + +"It is an old man who died last night," said a nun in a low voice to +Constance, noticing her look of inquiry. + +The silver crucifix shone fitfully ahead, while the chanting of the +priests, winding in and out after the holy symbol, fell upon the ear. +And the young girl gazed with pity as the remains of the Marquis de +Ligne, her father, were borne by. + + Qui vivis et regnas. Glorificamus te. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AN INCONGRUOUS ROLE + + +Longer and longer trailed the shadow of a tall tombstone until, as the +sun went down, it merged into the general twilight like a life +lengthening out and out and finally blending in restful darkness. With +that transition came a sudden sense of isolation and loneliness; the +little burial ground seemed the world; the sky, its walls and +ceiling. + +From the neighborhood of the gates had vanished the dusky venders, +trundling their booths and stalls citywards. As abruptly had +disappeared the bearers of flowers and artificial roses with baskets +poised upon their heads, imparting to their figures dignity and +erectness. The sad-eyed nuns had wended their way out of the little +kingdom of the departed, surrounded by the laughing children and +preceded by the priests and acolytes. All the sounds and activities of +the day--the merriment of the little ones, the oblations of the +priests, the greetings of friends--were followed by inertness and +languor. Motionless against the sky spread the branches of the trees, +like lines etched there; still were the clambering vines that clasped +monolith and column. + +But suddenly that death-like lull in nature's animation and unrest was +abruptly broken, and an uproarious vociferation dispelled the +voiceless peace. + + "For Jack ashore's a Croesus, lads, + With a Jill for every Jack--" + +sang a hoarse voice as its owner came staggering along one of the +walks of the cemetery; for all his song, no blue-water sailor-man, but +a boisterous denizen of the great river, a raftsman or a keel-boatman, +who had somehow found himself in the burial ground and now was beating +aimlessly about. How this rollicking waif of the grog shop came to +wander so far from the convivial haunts of his kind and to choose this +spot for a ramble, can only be explained by the vagaries of +inebriety. + + "With a Jill in your wake, + A fair port you'll make--" + +he continued, when his eye fell upon the figure of a woman, some +distance ahead, and fairly discernible in the gathering twilight. +Immediately the song ceased and he steadied himself, gazing +incredulously after the form that had attracted his attention. + +"Hello!" he said. "Avast, my dear!" he called out. + +Echoing in that still place, his harsh tones produced a startling +effect, and the figure before him moved faster and faster, casting a +glance behind her at the man from the river, who with snatches of +song, started in uncertain but determined pursuit. As the heavy +footsteps sounded nearer, she increased her pace, with eyes bent upon +the distant gate; darker seemed to grow the way; more menacing the +shadows outstretched across the path. Louder crunched the boots on the +shell walk; more audible became the words of the song that flowed from +his lips, when the sound of a sudden and violent altercation replaced +the hoarse-toned cadence, an altercation that was of brief duration, +characterized by longshoreman oaths, and followed by silence; and then +a figure, not that of the tuneful waterman, sprang to the side of the +startled girl. + +"Miss Carew!" exclaimed a well-remembered voice. + +Bewildered, breathing quickly, she gazed from Edward Mauville, who +thus unexpectedly accosted her, to the prostrate form, lying +motionless on the road. The rude awakening from her day-dream in the +hush of that peaceful place, and the surprising sequence had dazed her +senses, and, for the moment, it seemed something tragic must have +happened. + +"Is he dead?" she asked quickly, unable to withdraw her glance from +the immovable figure, stretched out in the dim light on the path. + +"No fear!" said Mauville, quietly, almost thoughtfully, although his +eyes were yet bright from the encounter. "You can't kill his kind," he +added, contemptuously. "Brutes from coal barges, or raftsmen from the +head waters! He struck against a stone when he fell, and what with +that, and the liquor in him, will rest there awhile. He'll come to +without remembering what has happened." + +Turning moodily, the land baron walked slowly down the road, away from +the gate; she thought he was about to leave her, when he paused, as +though looking for something, stooped to the ground, and returned, +holding out a garment. + +"You dropped your wrap, Miss Carew," he said, awkwardly. "The night is +cold and you will need it." She offered no resistance when he placed +it over her shoulders; indeed, seemed unconscious of the attention. + +"Don't you think we had better go?" he went on. "It won't hurt +him"--indicating the motionless body--"to stay here--the brute!" + +But as he spoke, with some constraint, her eyes, full of doubts, met +his, and he felt a flush mantle his face. The incongruity of his +position appealed forcibly to him. Had he not been watching and +following her himself? Seeing her helpless, alone, in the silent spot, +where she had unconsciously lingered too long, had he not been almost +on the point of addressing her? Moved by vague desires, had he not +already started impetuously toward her, when the man from the river +had come rollicking along and insinuated himself after his fashion in +the other's role? + +And at the sight--the fleeing girl, the drunken, profane waterman!--how +his heart had leaped and his body had become steel for the encounter; +an excess of vigor for a paltry task! Jack, as he called himself, might +have been a fighting-man earlier in the day, but now he had gone down +like straw. When the excitement of this brief collision was over, +however, the land baron found his position as unexpected as puzzling. + +As these thoughts swiftly crossed his mind, he could not forbear a +bitter laugh, and she, walking more quickly toward the gate, regarded +him with inquiry, not perhaps unmingled with apprehension. A picture +of events, gone by, arose before her like a menacing shadow over the +present. He interpreted her glance for what it meant, and angry that +she doubted him, angry with himself, said roughly: + +"Oh, you haven't anything to fear!" + +Her answering look was so gentle, so sad, an unwonted feeling of +compunction seized him; he repented of his harshness, and added less +brusquely: + +"Why did you remain so late?" + +"I did not realize how late it had become." + +"Your thoughts must have been very absorbing!" he exclaimed quickly, +his brow once more overcast. + +Not difficult was it for him to surmise upon whom her mind had been +bent, and involuntarily his jaw set disagreeably, while he looked at +her resentfully. In that light he could but dimly discern her face. +Her bonnet had fallen from her head; her eyes were bent before her, as +though striving to penetrate the gathering darkness. With his sudden +spell of jealousy came the temptation to clasp her in his arms in that +silent, isolated place, but the figure of the sailor came between him +and the desire, while pride, the heritage of the gentleman, fought +down the longing. This self-conquest was not accomplished, however, +without a sacrifice of temper, for after a pause, he observed: + +"There is no accounting for a woman's taste!" + +She did not controvert this statement, but the start she gave told him +the shaft had sped home. + +"An outlaw! An outcast!" exclaimed the patroon, stung beyond endurance +by his thoughts. + +Still no reply; only more hurried footsteps! Around them sounded a +gentle rustling; a lizard scrambled out of their path through the +crackling leaves; a bat, or some other winged creature, suddenly +whirred before them and vanished. They had now approached the gate, +through which they passed and found themselves on the road leading +directly to the city, whose lights had already begun to twinkle in the +dusk. + +The cheering rumble of a carriage and the aspect of the not +far-distant town quickened her spirits and imparted elasticity to her +footsteps. Upon the land baron they produced an opposite effect, for +he was obviously reluctant to abandon the interview, however +unsatisfactory it might be. There was nothing to say, and yet he was +loath to leave her; there was nothing to accomplish, and yet he wished +to remain with her. For this reason, as they drew near the city, his +mood became darker, like the night around them. Instinctively, she +felt the turbulent passions stirring in his bosom; his sudden silence, +his dogged footsteps reawakened her misgivings. Furtively she regarded +him, but his eyes were fixed straight before him on the soft luster +above the city, the reflection of the lights, and she knew and +mistrusted his thoughts. Although she found his silence more menacing +than his words, she could think of nothing to say to break the spell, +and so they continued to walk mutely side by side. An observer, seeing +them beneath the cypress, a lovers' promenade, with its soft, +enfolding shadows, would have taken them for a well-matched couple, +who had no need for language. + +But when they had emerged from that romantic lane and entered the +city, the land baron breathed more freely. She was now surrounded by +movement and din; the seclusion of the country gave way to the stir of +the city; she was no longer dependent on his good offices; his role of +protector had ended when they left the cypress walk behind them. + +His brow cleared; he glanced at her with ill-concealed admiration; he +noticed with secret pride the attention she attracted from passers-by, +the sidelong looks of approval that followed her through the busy +streets. The land baron expanded into his old self; he strode at her +side, gratified by the scrutiny she invited; assurance radiated from +his eyes like some magnetic heat; he played at possession wilfully, +perversely. "Why not," whispered Hope. "A woman's mind is shifting +ever. Her fancy--a breath! The other is gone. Why--" + +"It was not accident my being in the cemetery, Miss Carew," said +Mauville, suddenly covering her with his glance. Meeting her look of +surprise unflinchingly, he continued: "I followed you there; through +the streets, into the country! My seeing you first was chance; my +presence in the burial ground the result of that chance. The +inevitable result!" he repeated softly. "As inevitable as life! Life; +what is it? Influences which control us; forces which bind us! It is +you, or all; you or nothing!" + +She did not reply; his voice, vibrating with feeling, touched no +answering chord. Nevertheless, a new, inexplicable wave of sorrow +moved her. It might be he had cared for her as sincerely as it was +possible for his wayward heart to care for any one. Perhaps time would +yet soften his faults, and temper his rashness. With that shade of +sorrow for him there came compassion as well; compassion that +overlooked the past and dwelt on the future. + +She raised her steady eyes. "Why should it be 'I or nothing,' as you +put it?" she finally answered slowly. "Influences may control us in a +measure, but we may also strive for something. We can always strive." + +"For what? For what we don't want? That's the philosophy of your +moralists, Miss Carew," he exclaimed. "That's your modern ethics of +duty. Playing tricks with happiness! The game isn't worth the candle. +Or, if you believe in striving," he added, half resentfully, half +imploringly, "strive to care for me but a little. But a little!" he +said again. "I who once wanted all, and would have nothing but all, am +content to ask, to plead, for but a little." + +"I see no reason," she replied, wearily, yet not unkindly, "why we +should not be friends." + +"Friends!" he answered, bitterly. "I do not beg for a loaf, but +a crumb. Yet you refuse me that! I will wait! Only a word of +encouragement! Will you not give it?" + +She turned and looked into his eyes, and, before she spoke, he knew +what her answer would be. + +"How can I?" she said, simply. "Why should I promise something I can +never fulfil?" + +He held her glance as though loath to have it leave him. + +"May I see you again?" he asked, abruptly. + +She shook her head. His gaze fell, seeing no softening in her clear +look. + +"You are well named," he repeated, more to himself than to her. +"Constance! You are constant in your dislikes as well as your likes." + +"I have no dislike for you," she replied. "It seems to have been left +behind me somewhere." + +"Only indifference, then!" he said, dully. + +"No; not indifference!" + +"You do care what--may become of me?" + +"You should do so much--be so much in the world," she answered, +thoughtfully. + +"_Sans peur et sans reproche!_" he cried, half-amused, half-cheerlessly. +"What a pity I met you--too late!" + +They were now at the broad entrance of the brilliantly-lighted hotel. +Several loungers, smoking their after-dinner cigars, gazed at the +couple curiously. + +"Mauville's a lucky dog," said one. + +"Yes; he was born with a silver spoon," replied the person addressed. + +As he passed through the envious throng, the land baron had regained +his self-command, although his face was marked with an unusual pallor. +In his mind one thought was paramount--that the walk begun at the +burial-ground was drawing to an end; their last walk; the finale of +all between them! Yet he could call to mind nothing further to say. +His story had been told; the conclusion reached. She, too, had spoken, +and he knew she would never speak differently. Bewildered and unable +to adjust his new and strange feelings, it dawned upon him he had +never understood himself and her; that he had never really known what +love was, and he stood abashed, confronted by his own ignorance. +Passion, caprice, fancy, he had seen depth in their shallows, but now +looked down and discerned the pebbly bottom. All this and much more +surged through his brain as he made his way through the crowd, and, +entering the corridor of the hotel, took formal leave of the young +girl at the stairway. + +"Good-night, Miss Carew," he said, gravely. + +"Good-night," she replied. And then, on the steps, she turned and +looked down at him, extending her hand: "Thank you!" + +That half-timid, low "thank you!" he knew was all he would ever +receive from her. He hardly felt the hand-clasp; he was hardly +conscious when she turned away. A heavier hand fell upon his +shoulder. + +"You sly dog!" said a thick voice. "Well, a judge of a good horse is a +judge of a handsome woman! We're making up a few bets on the horses +to-morrow. Colonel Ogelby will ride Dolly D, and I'm to ride my +Gladiator. It'll be a gentlemen's race." + +"Aren't we gentlemen?" growled a professional turfsman. + +"Gad! it's the first time I ever heard a jockey pretend to be one!" +chuckled the first speaker. "What do you say, Mauville?" + +"What do I say?" repeated the land baron, striving to collect his +thoughts. "What--why, I'll make it an even thousand, if you ride your +own horse, you'll--" + +"Win?" interrupted the proud owner. + +"No; fall off before he's at the second quarter!" + +"Done!" said the man, immediately. + +"Huzza!" shouted the crowd. + +"That's the way they bet on a gentlemen's race!" jeered the gleeful +jockey. + +"Drinks on Gladiator!" exclaimed some one. And as no southern +gentleman was ever known to refuse to drink to a horse or a woman, the +party carried the discussion to the bar-room. + + + + +BOOK III + +THE FINAL CUE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +OVERLOOKING THE COURT-YARD + + +"In the will of the Marquis de Ligne, probated yesterday, all of the +property, real and personal, is left to his daughter, Constance," +wrote Straws in his paper shortly after the passing of the French +nobleman. "The document states this disposition of property is made as +'an act of atonement and justice to my daughter, whose mother I +deserted, taking advantage of the French law to annul my marriage in +England.' The legitimacy of the birth of this, his only child, is +thereupon fully acknowledged by the marquis after a lapse of many +years and long after the heretofore unrecognized wife had died, +deserted and forgotten. Thrown on her own resources, the young child, +with no other friend than Manager Barnes, battled with the world; now +playing in taverns or barns, like the players of interludes, the +strollers of old, or 'vagabonds', as the great and mighty Junius, from +his lofty plane, termed them. The story of that period of 'vagrant' +life adds one more chapter to the annals of strolling players which +already include such names as Kemble, Siddons and Kean. + +"From the Junius category to a public favorite of New Orleans has been +no slight transition, and now, to appear in the role of daughter of a +marquis and heiress to a considerable estate--truly man--and +woman--play many parts in this brief span called life! But in making +her sole heir the marquis specifies a condition which will bring +regrets to many of the admirers of the actress. He robs her of her +birthright from her mother. The will stipulates that the recipient +give up her profession, not because it is other than a noble one, but +'that she may the better devote herself to the duties of her new +position and by her beneficence and charity remove the stain left upon +an honored name by my second wife, the Duchesse D'Argens'." + +The marquis' reference to "charity" and "beneficence" was in such +ill-accord with his character that it might be suspected an adroit +attorney, in drawing up the document, had surreptitiously inserted it. +His proud allusion to his honored name and slurring suggestion of the +taint put upon it by his second wife demonstrated the marquis was not +above the foibles of his kind, overlooking his own light conduct and +dwelling on that of his noble helpmate. It was the final taunt, and, +as the lady had long since been laid in God's Acre, where there is +only silence divine, it received no answer, and the world was welcome +to digest and gorge it and make the most of it. + +But although the marquis and his lady had no further interest in +subsequent events, growing out of their brief sojourn on earth, the +contents of the will afforded a theme of gossip for the living and +molded the affairs of one in new shape and manner. On the same day +this public exposition appeared, Barnes and the young actress were +seated in the law office of Marks and Culver, a room overlooking a +court-yard, brightened by statues and urns of flowers. A plaster bust +of Justinian gazed benignly through the window at a fountain; a steel +engraving of Jeremy Bentham watched the butterflies, and Hobbes and +John Austin, austere in portraiture, frowned darkly down upon the +flowering garden. While the manager and Constance waited for the +attorney to appear, they were discussing, not for the first time, the +proviso of the will to which Straws had regretfully alluded. + +"Yes," said Barnes, folding the newspaper which contained Straws' +article and placing it in his pocket; "you should certainly give up +the stage. We must think of the disappointments, the possible failure, +the slender reward. There was your mother--such an actress!--yet +toward the last the people flocked to a younger rival. I have often +thought anxiously of your future, for I am old--yes, there is no +denying it!--and any day I may leave you, dependent solely upon +yourself." + +"Do not speak like that," she answered, tenderly. "We shall be +together many, many years." + +"Always, if I had my way," he returned, heartily. + +"But with this legacy you are superior to the fickle public. In fact, +you are now a part of the capricious public, my dear," he added in a +jocular tone, "and may applaud the 'heavy father,' myself, or prattle +about prevailing styles while the buskined tragedian is strutting +below your box. Why turn to a blind bargain? Fame is a jade, only +caught after our illusions are gone and she seems not half so sweet as +when pursuing her in our dreams!" + +But as he spoke, with forced lightness, beneath which, however, the +young girl could readily detect the vein of anxiety and regret, she +was regarding him with the clear eyes of affection. His face, seamed +with many lines and bearing the deeply engraved handwriting of time, +spoke plainly of declining years; every lineament was eloquent with +vicissitudes endured; and as she discerningly read that varied past of +which her own brief career had been a part, there entered her mind a +brighter picture of a tranquil life for him at last, where in old age +he could exchange uncertainty and activity for security and rest. How +could she refuse to do as he desired? How often since fate had wrought +this change in her life had she asked herself the question? + +Her work, it is true, had grown dearer to her than ever; of late she +had thrown herself into her task with an ardor and earnestness lifting +each portrayal to a higher plane. Is it that only with sorrow comes +the fulness of art; that its golden gates are never swung entirely +open to the soul bearing no burden? + +Closed to ruder buffetings, is it only to the sesame of a sad voice +those portals spring magically back? But for his sake she must needs +pause on the threshold of attainment, and stifle that ambition which +of itself precluded consideration of a calm, uneventful existence. She +was young and full of courage, but the pathos of his years smote her +heart; something inexplicable had awakened her fears for him; she +believed him far from well of late, although he laughed at her +apprehensions and protested he had never been better in his life. + +Now, reading the anxiety in his face as he watched her, she smiled +reassuringly, her glance, full of love, meeting his. + +"Everything shall be as you wish," she said, softly. "You know what is +best!" + +The manager's face lighted perceptibly, but before he could answer, +the door opened, and Culver, the attorney, entered. With ruddy +countenance and youthful bearing, in antithesis to the hair, +silvered with white, he was one of those southern gentlemen who grow +old gracefully. The law was his taskmaster; he practised from a sense +of duty, but ever held that those who rushed to court were likely +to repeat the experience of Voltaire, who had twice been ruined: +once when he lost a law suit; the second time, when he won one! +Nevertheless, people persisted in coming to Culver wantonly welcoming +unknown ills. + +"Well, Miss Carew," he now exclaimed, after warmly greeting his +visitors, "have you disburdened yourself of prejudice against this +estate? Wealth may be a little hardship at first, but soon you won't +mind it." + +"Not a bit!" spoke up Barnes. "It's as easy to get used to as--poverty, +and we've had plenty of that!" + +"You know the other condition?" she said, half-defiantly, half-sadly. +"You are to be with me always." + +"How can you teach an old dog new tricks?" protested Barnes. "How can +you make a fine man about town out of a 'heavy father?'" + +"The 'heavy father' is my father. I never knew any other. I am glad I +never did." + +"Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed scoffingly, but pleased nevertheless. + +"You can't put me off that way," she said, decisively, with a sudden +flash in her eyes he knew too well to cross. "Either you leave the +stage, too, or--" + +"Of course, my dear, of course--" + +"Then it's all settled you will accept the encumbrance to which you +have fallen heir," resumed Culver. "Even if there had been no will in +your favor, the State of Louisiana follows the French law, and the +testator can under no circumstances alienate more than half his +property, if he leave issue or descendants. Had the old will remained, +its provisions could not have been legally carried out." + +"The old will?" said Barnes. "Then there was another will?" + +"One made before he was aware of your existence, Miss Carew, in favor +of his ward, Ernest Saint-Prosper." + +"Ernest Saint-Prosper!" + +Constance's cheeks flamed crimson, and her quick start of surprise did +not escape the observant lawyer. Barnes, too, looked amazed over this +unexpected intelligence. + +"Saint-Prosper was the marquis' ward?" he cried. + +The attorney transferred his gaze from the expressive features of his +fair client to the open countenance of the manager. "Yes," he said. + +"And would have inherited this property but for Constance?" + +"Exactly! But you knew him, Mr. Barnes?" + +"He was an occupant of the chariot, sir," replied the manager, with +some feeling. "We met in the Shadengo Valley; the company was in sore +straits, and--and--to make a long story short!--he joined our band and +traversed the continent with us. And so he was the marquis' ward! It +seems almost incredible!" + +"Yes," affirmed Culver; "when General Saint-Prosper, his father, died, +Ernest Saint-Prosper, who was then but a boy, became the marquis' ward +and a member of his household." + +"Well, well, how things do come about!" ruminated Barnes. "To think he +should have been the prospective heir, and Constance, the real one!" + +"Where is he now?" asked the attorney, thoughtfully. + +"He has gone to Mexico; enlisted! But how do you know he--" + +"Had expectations? The marquis told me about a quarrel they had had; +he was a staunch imperialist; the young man as firm a republican! What +would be the natural outcome? They parted in bitter anger." + +"And then the marquis made him his heir?" exclaimed the manager, +incredulously. "How do you reconcile that?" + +The attorney smiled. "Through the oddity of my client! 'Draw up my +will,' said the marquis to me one day, 'leaving all my property to +this republican young dog. That will cut off the distant relatives who +made the sign of the cross behind my back as though I were the evil +one. They expect it all; he expects nothing! It will be a rare joke. I +leave them my affection--and the privilege of having masses said for +my soul.' The marquis was always of a satirical temperament." + +"So it seems," commented the manager. "But he changed his mind and his +will again?" + +"After he met Miss Carew." + +"Met me!" exclaimed Constance, aroused from a maze of reflection. + +"Near the cathedral! He walked and talked with you." + +"That poor old man--" + +"And then came here, acknowledged you as his daughter, and drew up the +final document." + +"That accounts for a call I had from him!" cried Barnes, telling the +story of the marquis' visit. "Strange, I did not suspect something of +the truth at the time," he concluded, "for his manner was certainly +unusual." + +A perplexed light shone in the girl's eyes; she clasped and unclasped +her hands quickly, turning to the lawyer. + +"Their quarrel was only a political difference?" she asked at length. + +"Yes," said the other, slowly. "Saint-Prosper refused to support the +fugitive king. Throughout the parliamentary government, the +restoration under Louis XVIII, and the reign of King Charles X, the +marquis had ever a devout faith in the divine right of monarchs. He +annulled his marriage in England with your mother to marry the +Duchesse D'Argens, a relative of the royal princess. But Charles +abdicated and the duchesse died. All this, however, is painful to you, +Miss Carew?" + +"Only such as relates to my mother," she replied in a clear tone. "I +suppose I should feel grateful for this fortune, but I am afraid I do +not. Please go on." + +Culver leaned back in his chair, his glance bent upon a discolored +statue of Psyche in the court-yard. "Had the marquis attended to his +garden, like Candide, or your humble servant, and eschewed the +company of kings he might have been as care-free as he was wretched. +His monarchs were knocked down like nine-pins. Louis XVIII was a man +of straw; Charles X, a feather-top, and Louis Philippe, a toy ruler. +The marquis' domestic life was as unblest as his political career. The +frail duchesse left him a progeny of scandals. These, the only +offspring of the iniquitous dame, were piquantly dressed in the +journals for public parade. Fancy, then, his delight in disinheriting +his wife's relatives, and leaving you, his daughter, his fortune and +his name!" + +"His name?" she repeated, sadly. With averted face she watched the +fountain in the garden. "If he had given it to my mother," she +continued, "but now--I do not care for it. Her name is all I want." +Her voice trembled and she exclaimed passionately: "I should rather +Mr. Saint-Prosper would keep the property and I--my work! After +denying my mother and deserting her, how can I accept anything from +him?" + +"Under the new will," said Culver, "the estate does not revert to Mr. +Saint-Prosper in any event. But you might divide it with him?" he +added, suddenly. + +"How could I do that?" she asked, without looking up. + +"Marry him!" laughed the attorney. + +But the jest met with scant response, his fair client remaining +motionless as a statue, while Barnes gazed at her furtively. Culver's +smile gradually faded; uncertain how to proceed, realizing his humor +had somehow miscarried, he was not sorry when the manager arose, +saying: + +"Well, my dear, it is time we were at the theater." + +"Won't you accept this nosegay from my garden, Miss Carew?" urged the +lawyer in a propitiatory tone as they were leaving. + +And the attorney not only accompanied them to the door, but +down-stairs to the street, where he stood for a moment watching them +drive down the thoroughfare. Then he slowly returned, breathing +heavily--invidious contradiction of his youthful assumption!--and +shaking his head, as he mounted to his room. + +"Culver, you certainly put your foot in it that time!" he muttered. +"How she froze at my suggestion! Has there been some passage of arms +between them? Apparently! But here am I, pondering over romances with +all this legal business staring me in the face!" His glance swept a +chaos of declarations, bills, affidavits and claims. "Confound the +musty old courthouse and the bustling Yankee lawyers who set such a +disturbing pace! There is no longer gentlemanly leisure in New +Orleans." + +He seated himself with a sigh before a neglected brief. In the +distance the towers of the cathedral could be seen, reminding the +attorney of the adjacent halls of justice in the scraggy-looking +square, with its turmoil, its beggars, and apple women in the lobbies; +its ancient, offensive smell, its rickety stairs, its labyrinth of +passages and its Babel of tongues. Above him, however, the plaster +bust of Justinian, out of those blank, sightless eyes, continued the +contemplation of the garden as though turning from the complex +jurisprudence of the ancients and moderns to the simple existence of +butterflies and flowers. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +ONLY A SHADOW + + +There is an aphorism to the effect that one can not spend and have; +also, a saying about the whirlwind, both of which in time came home to +the land baron. For several generations the Mauville family, bearing +one of the proudest names in Louisiana, had held marked prestige under +Spanish and French rule, while extensive plantations indicated the +commercial ascendency of the patroon's ancestors. The thrift of his +forefathers, however, passed lightly over Edward Mauville. Sent to +Paris by his mother, a widow, who could deny him nothing, in the +course of a few years he had squandered two plantations and several +hundred negroes. Her death placed him in undisputed possession of the +residue of the estate, when finding the exacting details of commerce +irksome, in a moment of weakness, he was induced to dispose of some of +his possessions to Yankee speculators who had come in with the flood +of northern energy. Most of the money thus realized he placed in loose +investments, while the remainder gradually disappeared in indulging +his pleasures. + +At this critical stage in his fortunes--or misfortunes--the patroon's +legacy had seemed timely, and his trip to the North followed. But from +a swarm of creditors, to a nest of anti-renters, was out of the +frying-pan into the fire, hastening his return to the Crescent City, +where he was soon forced to make an assignment of the remaining +property. A score of hungry lawyers hovered around the sinking estate, +greedily jealous lest some one of their number should batten too +gluttonously at this general collation. It was the one topic of +interest in the musty, dusty courthouse until the end appeared with +the following announcement in the local papers: + +"_Annonce! Vente importante de Negres!_ Mauville estate in bankruptcy!" + +And thereafter were specified the different lots of negroes to be +sold. + +Coincident with these disasters came news from the North regarding +his supposedly immense interests in New York State. A constitutional +convention had abolished all feudal tenures and freed the fields +from baronial burdens. At a breath--like a house of cards--the +northern heritage was swept away and about all that remained of +the principality was the worthless ancient deed itself, representing +one of the largest colonial grants. + +But even the sale of the negroes and his other merchandise and +property failed to satisfy his clamorous creditors or to pay his +gambling debts. Those obligations at cards it was necessary to meet, +so he moved out of his bachelor apartments, turned over his expensive +furnishings and bric-a-brac to the gamblers and snapped his fingers at +the over-anxious constables and lawyers. + +As time went by evidence of his reverses insidiously crept into his +personal appearance. He who had been the leader now clung to the +tail-ends of style, and it was a novel sensation when one day he +noticed a friend scrutinizing his garments much in the same +critical manner that he had himself erstwhile affected. This +glance rested casually on the hat; strayed carelessly to the +waistcoat; wandered absently to the trousers, down one leg and up +the other; superciliously jumped over the waistcoat and paused the +infinitesimal part of a second on the necktie. Mauville learned in +that moment how the eye may wither and humble, without giving any +ostensible reason for offense. The attitude of this mincing fribble, +as he danced twittingly away, was the first intimation Mauville had +received that he would soon be relegated to the ranks of gay +adventurers thronging the city. He who had watched his estates +vanish with an unruffled countenance now became disconcerted over +the width of his trousers and the shape of his hat. + +His new home was in the house of an aged quadroon who had been a +servant in his family many years ago--how long no one seemed to +remember!--and who had been his nurse before she had received her +freedom. She enjoyed the distinction of being feared in the +neighborhood; her fetishes had a power no other witch's possessed, and +many of the negroes would have done anything to have possessed these +infallible charms, save crossing her threshold to get them. Mauville, +when he found fortune slipping away from him and ruin staring him in +the face, had been glad to transfer his abode to this unhallowed +place; going into hiding, as it were, until the storm should blow by, +when he expected to emerge, confident as ever. + +But inaction soon chafed his restless nature, and drove him forth in +spite of himself from the streets in that quarter of the town where +the roofs of various-colored houses formed strange geometrical figures +and the windows were bright with flaring head-dresses, beneath which +looked out curious visages of ebony. Returning one day from such a +peregrination, he determined to end a routine of existence so +humiliating to his pride. + +Pausing before a doorway, the land baron looked this way and that, and +seeing only the rotating eyes of a pickaninny fastened upon him, +hurried through the entrance. Hanging upon the walls were red and +green pods and bunches of dried herbs of unquestionable virtue +belonging to the old crone's pharmacopoeia. Mauville slowly ascended +the dark stairs and reached his retreat, a small apartment, with +furniture of cane-work and floor covered with sea-grass; the ceiling +low and the windows narrow, opening upon a miniature balcony that +offered space for one and no more. + +"Is dat yo', honey?" said an adoring voice on the landing. + +"Yes, auntie," replied the land baron, as an old crone emerged from an +ill-lighted recess and stood before him. + +Now the light from the doorway fell upon her, and surely five score +years were written on her curiously wrinkled face--five score, or +more, for even the negroes did not profess to know how old she was. +Her bent figure, watery eyes and high shrill voice bore additional +testimony to her age. + +"Yo's home earlier dan usual, dearie?" she resumed. "But yo' supper's +all ready. Sit down here." + +"I'm not hungry, auntie," he returned. + +"Not hungry, honey?" she cried, laughing shrilly. "Yo' wait!" And she +disappeared into an adjoining room, soon to emerge with a steaming +platter, which she set on the snow-white cover of the little table. +Removing the lid from the dish, she hobbled back a few steps to regard +her guest with triumphant expectation. "Dat make yo' eat." + +"What a cook you are, mammy!" he said, lightly. "You would give a +longing tooth to satiety." + +"De debil blow de fire," she answered, chuckling. + +"Then the devil is a _chef de cuisine_. This sauce is bewitching." + +"Yo' like it?" Delighted. + +"Tis a spell in itself. Confess, mammy, Old Nick mixed it?" + +"No, he only blow de fire," she reiterated, with a grin. + +"Any one been to see me, mammy?" + +"Only dat Mexican gemmen; dat gemmen been here befo' who take yo' +message about de troops; when dey go from New Orleans; how many dey +am!" + +"You know that, auntie?" he asked quickly. "You know that I--" + +"Yes, honey," she answered, shaking her head. "Yo' be berry careful, +Mar's'r Edward." + +"What did he want?" said the land baron, quickly. + +"He gib me dis." And the crone handed her visitor a slip of paper on +which a few words were written. "What dat mean?" + +"It means I am going away, mammy," pushing back his chair. + +"Gwine away!" she repeated. "When's yo' gwine?" + +"To-morrow; perhaps to-night even; down the river, auntie!" Rising and +surveying himself in a mirror. + +"How long yo' gwine away foh?" + +"Perhaps forever, auntie!" + +"Not foh good, Mar's'r Edward? Not foh good?" He nodded and she broke +into loud wailings. "Yo's gwine and yo' old mammy'll see yo' no +moh--no moh! I knows why yo's gwine, Mar's'r Edward. I's heard yo' +talkin' about her in yo' sleep. But yo' stay and yo' mammy has a +love-charm foh yo'; den she's yo's, foh suah." + +This offer, coming from one of her uncanny reputation, would have been +accepted with implicit faith by most of the dwellers in that locality, +superstitious to the last degree, but Mauville laughed carelessly. + +"Pshaw, mammy! Do you think I would fly from a woman? Do I look as +though I needed a charm?" + +"No; she mus' worship yo'!" cried the infatuated crone. + +Then a change passed over her puckered face and she lifted her arms +despairingly, rocking her body to and fro, while she mumbled +unintelligible words which would have caused the negroes to draw away +from her with awe, for the spell was on her. But the land baron only +regarded her carelessly as she muttered something pertaining to spells +and omens. + +"Come, auntie," he said impatiently at last, "you know I don't believe +in this tom-foolery." + +She turned to him vehemently. "Don't go whar yo' thinkin' ob gwine, +honey," she implored. "Yo'll nebber come back, foh suah--foh suah! I +see yo' lyin' dar, honey, in de dark valley--whar de mists am +risin'--and I hears a bugle soundin'--and de tramp of horses. Dey am +all gone, honey--and de mists come back--but yo' am dar--lying dar--de +mountains around yo'--yo' am dar fo'ebber and ebber and--" Here she +broke into wild sobbing and moaning, tossing her white hair with her +trembling withered arms, a moving picture of an inspired dusky sibyl. +Mauville shrugged his shoulders. + +"We're losing time, mammy," he exclaimed. "Stop this nonsense and go +pack a few things for me. I have some letters to write." + +The old woman reluctantly obeyed, and the land baron penned a somewhat +lengthy epistle to his one-time master in Paris, the Abbe Moneau, +whose disapproval of the Anglo-Saxon encroachments--witness +Louisiana!--and zeal for the colonization of the Latin races are +matters of history. Having completed his epistle, the land baron +placed it in the old crone's hand to mail with: "If that man calls +again, tell him I'll meet him to-night," and, leaving the room, shot +through the doorway, once more rapidly walking down the shabby +thoroughfare. The aged negro woman stumbled out upon the balcony and +gazed after the departing figure still moaning softly to herself and +shaking her head in anguish. + +"Fo'ebber and ebber," she repeated in a wailing tone. Below a colored +boy gazed at her in wonderment. + +"What debblement am she up to now?" he said to a girl seated in a +doorway. "When de old witch am like dat--" + +"Come in dar, yo' black imp!" And a vigorous arm pulled the lad +abruptly through the opening. "Ef she sees yo', she can strike yo' +dead, foh suah!" + +The crone could no longer distinguish Mauville--her eyes were nearly +sightless--but she continued to look in the direction he had taken, +sobbing as before: "Fo'ebber and ebber! Fo'ebber and ebber!" + +Once more upon a fashionable thoroughfare, the land baron's footstep +relaxed and he relapsed into his languorous, indolent air. The +shadows of twilight were darkening the streets and a Caribbee-scented +breeze was wafted from the gulf across the city. It swept through +the broad avenues and narrow highways, and sighed among the trees of +the old garden. Seating himself absently on one of the public +benches, Mauville removed his hat to allow the cool air to fan his +brow. Presently he moved on; up Canal Street, where the long rows of +gas lights now gleamed through the foliage; thence into a side +thoroughfare, as dark as the other street was bright, pausing before +a doorway, illumined by a single yellow flame that flickered in +the draft and threatened to leave the entrance in total obscurity. +Mounting two flights of stairs, no better lighted than the hall +below, the land baron reached a doorway, where he paused and +knocked. In answer to his summons a slide was quickly slipped back, +and through the aperture floated an alcoholic breath. + +"Who is it?" + +"A Knight of the Golden Square," said the caller, impatiently. "Open +the door." + +The man obeyed and the land baron was admitted to the hall of an +organization which had its inception in Texas; a society not unlike +the Secret Session Legation of the Civil War, having for its object +the overthrow of the government, the carrying of mails and despatches +and other like business. Here was gathered a choice aggregation of +Mexican sympathizers, a conclave hostile to the North. Composed of +many nationalities, the polished continental adventurer rubbed +shoulders with the Spanish politicians; the swarthy agents of Santa +Anna brushed against the secret enemies of northern aggression. A +small bar, unpretentious but convenient, occupied a portion of one end +of the room, and a brisk manipulator of juleps presided over this +popular corner. + +Half-disdainfully, the land baron mingled with the heterogeneous +assembly; half-ironically, his eye swept the group at the bar--the +paid spy, the needy black-sheep; the patriot, the swashbuckler; men +with and without a career. As Mauville stepped forward, a quiet, +dark-looking man, obviously a Mexican, not without a certain +distinguished carriage, immediately approached the newcomer. + +"You have come? Good!" he said, and drew Mauville aside. They +conversed in low tones, occasionally glancing about them at the +others. + +In the hall below the rhythm of a waltz now made itself heard, and the +land baron, having received certain papers which committed him to a +hazardous service, prepared to leave. + +"Here's luck!" said a man on his left, raising his glass. At these +words several of the company turned. + +"Send it south!" roared a Texan Furioso, emptying his tumbler. + +"Send it south!" echoed the others, and "south" the fragrant juleps +were "sent," as the land baron unceremoniously tore himself away from +the group. + +"They say the floods are rising," said the man with whom Mauville had +conferred, at the door. + +"All the better if the river's running wild!" answered the other. "It +will be easier running the guard." + +"Yes," returned the Mexican, extending his hand, with a smile; "in +this case, there's safety in danger!" + +"That's reassuring!" replied the land baron, lightly, as he descended +the stairs. + +On reaching the floor below he was afforded a view through an open +door into a large room, lighted with many lamps, where a quadroon +dance, or "society ball," was in progress. After a moment's hesitation +he entered and stood in the glare, watching the waltzers. Around +the wall were dusky chaperons, guarding their charges with the +watchfulness of old dowagers protecting their daughters from the +advances of younger sons. Soft eyes flashed invitingly, graceful +figures passed, and the revelry momentarily attracted Mauville, as +he followed the movements of the waltzers and heard the strains of +music. Impulsively he approached a young woman whose complexion was +as light as his own and asked her to dance. The next moment they +were gliding to the dreamy rhythm around the room. + +By a fatal trick of imagination, his thoughts wandered to the +dark-haired girl he had met in the Shadengo Valley. If this now were +she, the partner he had so unceremoniously summoned to his side. How +light were her feet; what poetry of motion was her dancing; what +pleasure the abandonment to which she had resigned herself! +Involuntarily he clasped more tightly the slender waist, and the dark +eyes, moved by that palpable caress, looked not unkindly into his own. +But at the glance he experienced a strange repulsion and started, as +if awakening from a fevered sleep, abruptly stopping in the dance, his +arm falling to his side. The girl looked at him half-shyly, +half-boldly, and the very beauty of her eyes--the deep, lustrous orbs +of a quadroon--smote him mockingly. He felt as though some light he +sought shone far beyond his ken; a light he saw, but could never +reach; ever before him, but always receding. + +"Monsieur is tired?" said the girl, in a puzzled tone. + +"Yes," he answered bluntly, leading her to a seat. "Good-night." + +"Good-night," she replied, following his retreating figure with +something like regret. + +The evening bells, distinct and mysterious, were sounding as he +emerged from New Orleans' _Mabille_, and their crystalline tones, +rising and falling on the solemn night, brought to mind his boyhood. +Pictures long forgotten passed before him, as his footsteps led him +far from the brightly-lighted streets to a sequestered thoroughfare +that lay peacefully on the confines of the busy city; a spot inviting +rest from the turmoil yonder and in accord with the melancholy +vibrations of the bells. He stood, unseen in the shadow of great +trees, before a low rambling mansion; not so remote but that the +perfume from the garden was wafted to him over the hedge. + +"A troubadour!" he said scornfully to himself. "Edward Mauville +sighing at a lady's window like some sentimental serenader! There's a +light yonder. Now to play my despairing part, I must watch for her +image. If I were some one else, I should say my heart beats faster +than usual. She comes--the fair lady! Now the curtain's down. All that +may be seen is her shadow. So, despairing lover, hug that shadow to +your breast!" + +He plucked a rose from a bush in her garden, laughing at himself the +while for doing so, and as he moved away he repeated with conviction: + +"A shadow! That is all she ever could have been to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +FROM GARRET TO GARDEN + + +"Celestina, what do you think this is?" Waving something that crackled +in mid air. + +"A piece of paper," said Celestina from her place on the hearth. + +"Paper!" scoffed Straws. "It's that which Horace calls a handmaid, if +you know how to use it; a mistress, if you do not--money! It +is--success, the thing which wrecks more lives than cyclones, fires +and floods! We were happy enough before this came, weren't we, +Celestina?" + +The girl nodded her head, a look of deep anxiety in her eyes. + +"Oh, why did the critics so damn the book it fairly leaped to +popularity!" went on the bard. "Why did they advise me to learn a +trade? to spoil no more reams of paper? To spoil reams of paper and +get what--this little bit in return!" + +"Is it so very much money?" asked Celestina. + +"An enormous amount--one thousand dollars! And the worst of it is, my +publishers write there may be more to come." + +"Well," said the child, after a long, thoughtful pause, "why don't you +give it away?" + +"Hum! Your suggestion, my dear--" + +"But, perhaps, no one would take it?" interrupted Celestina. + +"Perhaps they wouldn't!" agreed Straws, rubbing his hands. "So, under +the circumstances, let us consider how we may cultivate some of the +vices of the rich. It is a foregone conclusion, set down by the +philosophers, that misery assails riches. The philosophers were never +rich and therefore they know. Besides, they are unanimous on the +subject. It only remains to make the best of it and cultivate the +vanities of our class. Where shall I begin? 'Riches betray man into +arrogance,' saith Addison. Therefore will I be arrogant; while you, my +dear, shall be proud." + +"That will be lovely!" assented Celestina, as a matter of habit. She +went to the bed and began smoothing the sheets deftly. + +"My dear!" expostulated Straws. "You mustn't do that." + +"Not make the bed!" she asked, in surprise. + +"No." + +"Nor bring your charcoal?" + +"No." + +"Nor wash your dishes?" + +"Certainly not!" + +Celestina dropped on the floor, a picture of misery. + +"Too bad, isn't it?" commented Straws. "But it can't be helped, can +it?" + +"No," she said, shaking her head, wofully; "it can't be helped! But +why--why did you publish it?" + +"Just what the critics asked, my dear! Why? Who knows? Who can tell +why the gods invented madness? But it's done; for bad, or worse!" + +"For bad, or worse!" she repeated, gazing wistfully toward the rumpled +bed. + +"If somebody tells you fine feathers don't make fine birds, don't +believe him," continued the poet. "It's envy that speaks! But what do +you suppose I have here?" Producing a slip of paper from his vest +pocket. "No; it's not another draft! An advertisement! Listen: +'Mademoiselle de Castiglione's select seminary. Young ladies +instructed in the arts of the _bon ton_. Finesse, repose, literature! +Fashions, etiquette, languages! P. S. Polkas a specialty!' Celestina, +your destiny lies at Mademoiselle de Castiglione's. They will teach +you to float into a drawing room--but you won't forget the garret? +They will instruct you how to sit on gilt chairs--you will think +sometimes of the box, or the place by the hearth? You will become a +mistress of the piano--'By the Coral Strands I Wander,' 'The Sweet +Young Bachelor'--but I trust you will not learn to despise altogether +the attic pipe?" + +"You mean," said Celestina, slowly, her face expressing bewilderment, +"I must go away somewhere?" + +Straws nodded. "That's it; somewhere!" + +The girl's eyes flashed; her little hands clenched. "I won't; I +won't!" + +"Then that's the end on't!" retorted the bard. "I had bought you +some new dresses, a trunk with your name on it, and had made +arrangements with Mademoiselle de Castiglione (who had read 'Straws' +Strophes'), but perhaps I could give the dresses away to some other +little girl who will be glad to drink at the Pierian--I mean, the +Castiglione--spring." + +Celestina's eyes were an agony of jealousy; not that she was +mercenary, or cared for the dresses, but that Straws should give them +to another little girl. Her pride, however, held her in check and she +drew herself up with composure. + +"That would be nice--for the other little girl!" she said. + +"The only difficulty is," resumed Straws, "there isn't any other +little girl." + +At that, Celestina gave a glad cry and flew to him, throwing her arms +around his neck. + +"Oh, I will go anywhere you want!" she exclaimed. + +"Get on your bonnet then--before you change your mind, my dear!" + +"And aunt?" asked Celestina, lingering doubtfully on the threshold. + +"Your aunt, as you call that shriveled-up shrew, consented at once," +answered Straws. "Her parental heart was filled with thanksgiving at +the prospect of one less mouth to fill. Go and say good-by, however, +to the old harridan; I think she has a few conventional tears to shed. +But do not let her prolong her grief inordinately, and meet me at the +front door." + +A few moments later, Straws and the child, hand-in-hand, started on +their way to the Castiglione temple of learning and culture. If +Celestina appeared thoughtful, even sad, the poet was never so merry, +and sought to entertain the abstracted girl with sparkling chit-chat +about the people they met in the crowded streets. A striking little +man was a composer of ability, whose operas, "Cosimo," "Les Pontons de +Cadiz," and other works had been produced at the Opera Comique in +Paris. He was now director of the French opera in New Orleans and had +brought out the charming Mademoiselle Capriccioso and the sublime +Signor Staccato. The lady by his side, a dark brunette with features +that were still beautiful, was the nimble-footed Madame Feu-de-joie, +whose shapely limbs and graceful motions had delighted two generations +and were like to appeal to a third. Men who at twenty had thrown +Feu-de-joie posies, now bald but young as ever, tossed her roses. + +"I don't like that lady," said Celestina, emphatically, when the +dancer had passed on, after petting her and kissing her on the cheek. + +"Now, it's curious," commented the bard, "but your sex never did." + +"Do men like her?" asked the child, with premature penetration. + +"They did; they do; they will!" answered Straws, epigrammatically. + +"Do you like her?" + +"Oh, that's different! Poets, you know, are the exception to any +rule." + +"Why?" + +"Because--Really, my dear, you ask too many questions!" + +Although Straws and Celestina had left the house early in the day, it +was noon before they reached the attractive garden, wherein was +sequestered the "select seminary." + +In this charming prison, whose walls were overrun with flowering +vines, and whose cells were pretty vestal bowers, entered the bard and +the young girl, to be met on the front porch by the wardeness herself, +a mite of a woman, with wavy yellow hair, fine complexion and +washed-out blue eyes. Sensitive almost to shyness, Mademoiselle de +Castiglione appeared more adapted for the seclusion of the veil in the +Ursuline Church than for the varied responsibilities of a young +ladies' institute. At the approach of the poet, she turned, looked +startled, but finally came forward bravely. + +"Oh, I've read it again, Mr. Straws!" she exclaimed, impetuously. + +"What?" he returned, sternly, pausing at the foot of the steps. + +"Your--your lovely Strophes!" she continued, timidly. + +The bard frowned. "All great men profess to scowl at flattery," +thought Straws. "She will have but a poor opinion of me, if I do not +appear an offended Hector!" + +"Mademoiselle, I excessively dislike compliments," he began aloud, but +having gone thus far, his courage and lack of chivalry failed him in +the presence of her dismay; he forgot his greatness, and hastened to +add, with an ingratiating smile: "Except when delivered by such a +charming person!" + +"Oh, Mr. Straws!" + +"This, Mademoiselle," resumed the bard, "is the young girl I spoke +about. Her mother," he added in a low voice, "was a beautiful +quadroon; her father"--here Straws mentioned a name. The wardeness +flushed furiously. "Father died; always meant to make it right; +didn't; crime of good intentions! Virago of an aunt; regular +termagant; hates the girl! Where was a home to be found for her? +Where"--gazing around him--"save this--Eden? Where a mother--save in +one whose heart is the tenderest?" + +Diplomatic Straws! Impulsively the wardeness crossed to Celestina; her +blue eyes beamed with sentiment and friendliness. "I will give her my +personal attention," she said. And then to the young girl: "We will be +friends, won't we?" + +"Yes," replied Celestina, slowly, after a moment's discreet +hesitation. She was glad the other did not kiss her like Feu-de-joie. + +"I always like," said the wardeness, "to feel my little girls are all +my little friends." + +"Mademoiselle," exclaimed the bard, "I'll--I'll dedicate my next +volume of poems to you!" + +"Really, Mr. Straws!" + +"For every kindness to her, you shall have a verse," he further +declared. + +"Then your dedication would be as long as Homer!" she suddenly flashed +out, her arm around the child. + +Straws looked at her quickly. It was too bad of him! And that borrowed +Don Juan smile! Nothing could excuse it. + +Castiglione busied herself with Celestina's ribbons. "Whoever did tie +that bow-knot?" she observed. + +"Good-by, Celestina," said Straws. + +Celestina put her arms gravely about his neck and he pressed his lips +to her cheek. Then he strode quickly toward the gate. Just before +passing out, he looked back. The wardeness had finished adjusting the +ribbon and was contemplatively inspecting it. Celestina, as though +unconscious of the attention, was gazing after the poet, and when he +turned into the road, her glance continued to rest upon the gate. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"THE BEST OF LIFE" + + +On a certain evening about a month later, the tropical rains had +flooded the thoroughfares, until St. Charles Street needed but a +Rialto and a little imagination to convert it into a watery highway of +another Venice, while as for Canal Street, its name was as applicable +as though it were spanned by a Bridge of Sighs. In the narrow streets +the projecting eaves poured the water from the roof to the sidewalks, +deluging the pedestrians. These minor thoroughfares were tributary to +the main avenues and gushed their rippling currents into them, as +streams supply a river, until the principal streets flowed swiftly +with the dirty water that choked their gutters. The rain splashed and +spattered on the sidewalks, fairly flooding out the fruit venders and +street merchants who withstood the deluge for a time and then were +forced to vanish with their portable stores. The cabby, phlegmatic to +wind and weather, sat on his box, shedding the moisture from his +oil-skin coat and facing a cloud of steam which presumably concealed a +horse. + +The dark night and the downpour made the _cafes_ look brighter. +Umbrellas flitted here and there, skilfully piloted beneath swinging +signs and low balconies, evading awning posts and high hats as best +they might. There were as many people out as usual, but they were +hurrying to their destinations, even the languid creole beauty, all +lace and alabaster, moved with the sprightliness of a maid of Gotham. + +Straws, editor and rhymster, was seated on the semi-Oriental, +semi-French gallery of the little _cafe_, called the Veranda, sipping +his absinthe, smoking a cheroot and watching the rain drip from the +roof of the balcony, spatter on the iron railing and form a shower +bath for the pedestrians who ventured from beneath the protecting +shelter. Before him was paper, partly covered with well-nigh illegible +versification, and a bottle of ink, while a goose-quill, tool of the +tuneful Nine, was expectantly poised in mid air. + +"Confound it!" he said to himself. "I can't write in the attic any +more, since Celestina has gone, and apparently I can't write away from +it. Since she left, the dishes haven't been washed; my work has run +down at the heels, and everything is going to the dogs generally. And +now this last thing has upset me quite. 'In the twinkling of an eye,' +says the sacred Book. But I must stop thinking, or I'll never complete +this poem. Now to make my mind a blank; a fitting receptacle to +receive inspiration!" + +The bard's figure swayed uncertainly on the stool. In the lively race +through a sonnet, it was often, of late, a matter of doubt with +Straws, whether Bacchus or Calliope would prevail at the finish, and +to-night the jocund god had had a perceptible start. "Was ever a poet +so rhyme-fuddled?" muttered the impatient versifier. "An inebriating +trade, this poetizing!"--and he reached for the absinthe. "If I am not +careful, these rhymes will put me under the table!" + +"Nappy, eh?" said a voice at his elbow, as a dripping figure +approached, deposited his hat on one chair and himself in another. The +newcomer had a long, Gothic face and a merry-wise expression. + +The left hand of the poet waved mechanically, imposing silence; the +quill dived suddenly to paper, trailed twice across it, and then was +cast aside, as Straws looked up. + +"Yes," he replied to the other's interrogation. "It's all on account +of Celestina's leaving me. You ought to see my room. Even a poet's +soul revolts against it. So what can I do, save make my home amid +convivial haunts?" The poet sighed. "And you, Phazma; how are you +feeling?" + +"Sober as a judge!" + +"Then you shall judge of this last couplet," exclaimed Straws quickly. +"It has cost me much effort. The editor wanted it. It seemed almost +too sad a subject for my halting muse. There are some things which +should be sacred even from us, Phazma. But what is to be done when the +editor-in-chief commands? 'Ours not to reason why!' The poem is a +monody on the tragedy at the theater." + +"At the St. Charles?" said Phazma, musingly. "As I passed, it was +closed. It seemed early for the performance to be over. Yet the +theater was dark; all the lights had gone out." + +"More than the lights went out," answered Straws, gravely; "a life +went out!" + +"I don't exactly--Oh, you refer to Miss Carew's farewell?" + +"No; to Barnes'!" + +"Barnes'!" exclaimed his surprised listener. + +"Yes; he is dead; gone out like the snuff of a candle! Died in +harness, before the footlights!" + +"During the performance!" cried the wondering Phazma. "Why, only this +afternoon I met him, apparently hale and hearty, and now--you tell me +he has paid the debt of nature?" + +"As we must all pay it," returned Straws. "He acted as if he were +dazed while the play was in progress and I could not but notice it, +standing in the wings. The prompter spoke of it to me. 'I don't know +what is the matter with Mr. Barnes,' he said, 'I have had to keep +throwing him his lines.' Even Miss Carew rallied him gently between +acts on his subdued manner. + +"'This is our last performance together,' he said absently. She gave +him a reproachful look and he added, quickly: 'Do I appear gloomy, my +dear? I never felt happier.' + +"At the end of the second act he seemed to arouse himself, when she, +as Isabella, said: 'I'll fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest.' +He gazed at her long and earnestly, his look caressing her wherever +she moved. Beginning the prison scene with spirit, he had proceeded +to, + + "'Reason thus with life; + If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing + That none but fools would keep--' + +When suddenly he threw up his arms and fell upon the stage, his face +toward the audience. With a cry I shall never forget, Miss Carew +rushed to him and took his head in her arms, gazing at him wildly, and +calling to him piteously. The curtain went down, but nothing could be +done, and life quickly ebbed. Once, only, his lips moved: 'Your +mother--there!--where the play never ends!' and it was over." + +"It is like a romance," said Phazma, finally, at the conclusion of +this narration. + +"Say, rather, reality! The masque is over! In that final sleep Jack +Pudding lies with Roscius; the tragedian does not disdain the mummer, +and beautiful Columbine, all silver spangles and lace, is company for +the clown. 'Tis the only true republic, Phazma; death's Utopia!" + +"But to think he should have died with those words of the poet on his +lips?" + +"A coincidence!" answered Straws. "No more notable than the death of +Edmund Kean, who, when he reached the passage 'Farewell, Othello's +occupation's gone!' fell back unconscious; or that of John Palmer, +who, after reciting 'There is another and a better world,' passed away +without a pang." + +A silence fell between the two poets; around them shadows appeared and +vanished. Phazma finished his syrup and arose. + +"Don't go," said Straws. "My own thoughts are poor company. Recite +some of your madrigals, that's a good fellow! What a wretched night! +These rain-drops are like the pattering feet of the invisible host. +Some simple song, Phazma!" + +"As many as you please!" cried his flattered brother-bard. "What shall +it be?" + +"One of your Rhymes for Children. Your 'Boy's Kingdom,' beginning: + + "When I was young, I dreamed of knights + And dames with silken trains." + +"Thou shalt have it, _mon ami_!" + +And Phazma gaily caught up the refrain, while Straws beat time to the +tinkling measures. + + * * * * * + +The last entry in the date-book, or diary, of Barnes seems curiously +significant as indicating a knowledge that his end was near. For the +first time in the volume he rambles on in a reminiscent mood about his +boyhood days: + +"The first bit of good fortune I ever enjoyed was when as a lad in +sweeping a crossing in the neighborhood of the Strand I found a +bright, shining sovereign. How tightly I grasped it in my little fist +that night when I slept in a doorway! I dared not trust it in my +pocket. The next night I walked to the ticket-seller at Drury Lane, +and demanded a seat down stairs. 'Gallery seats sold around the +corner,' said this imposing gentleman with a prodigious frown, and, +abashed, I slunk away. My dream of being near the grand people +vanished and I climbed once more to my place directly under the roof. + +"My next bit of good fortune happened in this wise. Sheridan, the +playwright-orator, attracted my attention on Piccadilly one day, and, +for the delight of gazing upon him, I followed. When he stopped, I +stopped; when he advanced, I did likewise. I felt that I was treading +in the footsteps of a king. Suddenly he paused, wheeled about and +confronted me, a raw-boned, ragged, awkward lad of fourteen. 'What one +of my creditors has set you following me?' he demanded. 'None, sir,' I +stammered. 'I only wanted to look at the author of "The Rivals."' He +appeared much amused and said: 'Egad! So you are a patron of the +drama, my boy?' I muttered something in the affirmative. He regarded +my appearance critically. 'I presume you would not be averse to +genteel employment, my lad?' he asked. With that he scribbled a moment +and handed me a note to the property man of Drury Lane. My heart was +too full; I had no words to thank him. The tears were in my eyes, +which, noting, he remarked, with an assumption of sternness: 'Are you +sure, boy, you are not a bailiff in disguise?' At this I laughed and +he left me. The note procured me an engagement as errand boy at the +stage-door and later I rose to the dignity of scene-shifter. How truly +typical of this man's greatness, to help lift a homeless lad out of +the gutters of London town! + +"But I am rambling on as though writing an autobiography, to be read +when I am gone--" + +Here the entry ceases and the rest of the pages in the old date-book +are blank. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE LAWYER'S TIDINGS + + +The sudden and tragic death of Constance's foster-father--which +occurred virtually as narrated by Straws--set a seal of profound +sadness on the heart of the young girl. "Good sir, adieu!" she had +said in the nunnery scene and the eternal parting had shortly +followed. Her affection for the old manager had been that of a loving +daughter; the grief she should have experienced over the passing of +the marquis was transferred to the memory of one who had been a father +through love's kinship. In the far-away past, standing at the bier of +her mother, the manager it was who had held her childish hand, +consoling her and sharing her affliction, and, in those distant but +unforgotten days of trouble, the young girl and the homeless old man +became all in all to each other. + +Years had rolled by; the child that prattled by his side became the +stately girl, but the hand-clasp at that grave had never been +relinquished. She could not pretend to mourn the death of the marquis, +her own father; had he not ever been dead to her; as dead as the good +wife (or bad wife) of that nobleman; as dead as Gross George, and all +the other honored and dishonored figures of that misty past? But +Barnes' death was the abrupt severing of ties, strengthened by years +of tender association, and, when his last summons came, she felt +herself truly alone. + +In an old cemetery, amid the crumbling bricks, Barnes was buried, his +sealed tomb above ground bearing in its inscription the answer to the +duke's query: "Thy Best of Life is Sleep." After the manager's death +and Constance's retirement from the stage, it naturally followed that +the passengers of the chariot became separated. Mrs. Adams continued +to play old woman parts throughout the country, remaining springy and +buoyant to the last. Susan transferred herself and her talents to +another stock company performing in New Orleans, while Kate procured +an engagement with a traveling organization. Adonis followed in her +train. It had become like second nature to quarrel with Kate, and at +the mere prospect of separation, he forthwith was driven to ask her +for her hand, and was accepted--on probation, thus departing in +leading strings. Hawkes, melancholy as of old, drifted into a comic +part in a "variety show," acquiring new laurels as a dry comedian of +the old school. But he continued to live alone in the world, +mournfully sufficient unto himself. + +Constance remained in New Orleans. There the old manager had found his +final resting place and she had no definite desire to go elsewhere. +Adrift in the darkness of the present, the young girl was too +perplexed to plan for the future. So she remained in the house Barnes +had rented shortly before his death. An elderly gentlewoman of fallen +fortunes, to whom this semi-rural establishment belonged, Constance +retained as a companion, passing her time quietly, soberly, almost in +solitude. This mansion, last remnant of its owner's earthly estate, +was roomy and spacious, nestling among the oranges and inviting +seclusion with its pretentious wall surrounding the grounds. + +The old-fashioned gentlewoman, poor and proud, was a fitting figure in +that ancient house, where in former days gay parties had assembled. +But now the principal callers at the old house were the little fat +priest, with a rosy smile, who looked after the aged lady's soul, of +which she was most solicitous in these later days, and the Count de +Propriac, who came ostensibly to see the elderly woman and chat about +genealogy and extraction, but was obviously not unmindful of the +presence of the young girl nor averse to seeking to mitigate her +sorrow. Culver, the lawyer, too, came occasionally, to talk about her +affairs, but often her mind turned impatiently from figures and +markets to the subtle rhythm of Shakespeare. She regretted having left +the stage, feeling the loneliness of this simple existence; yet averse +to seeking diversion, and shunning rather than inviting society. As +the inert hours crept by, she longed for the forced wakefulness and +stir of other days--happy days of insecurity; fleeting, joyous days, +gone now beyond recall! + +But while she was striving to solve these new problems of her life +they were all being settled for her by Fate, that arrogant meddler. +Calling one morning, Culver, nosegay in hand, was obliged to wait +longer than usual and employed the interval in casually examining his +surroundings--and, incidentally, himself. First, with the vanity of +youngish old gentlemen, he gazed into a tall mirror, framed in the +fantastic style of the early Venetians; a glass which had belonged to +the marquis and had erstwhile reflected the light beauty of his noble +spouse. Pausing about as long as it would have taken a lady to adjust +a curl, he peeped into a Dutch cabinet of ebony and mother-of-pearl +and was studying a charming creature painted on ivory, whose head like +that of Bluebeard's wife was subsequently separated from her lovely +shoulders, when a light footstep behind him interrupted his scrutiny. +Turning, he greeted the young girl, and, with stately gallantry, +presented the nosegay. + +"How well you are looking!" he said. "Though there might be a little +more color, perhaps, like some of these flowers. If I were a doctor, I +should prescribe: Less cloister; more city!" + +She took the flowers, meeting his kindly gaze with a faint smile. + +"Most patients would like such prescriptions," he went on. "I should +soon become a popular society physician." + +But although he spoke lightly, his manner was partly forced and he +regarded her furtively. Their brief acquaintance had awakened in him +an interest, half-paternal, half-curious. Women were an unknown, but +beautiful quantity; from the vantage point of a life of single +blessedness, he vaguely, but quixotically placed them in the same +category with flowers, and his curiosity was no harsher than that of a +gardener studying some new variety of bud or blossom. Therefore he +hesitated in what he was about to say, shifting in his chair uneasily +when they were seated, but finally coming to the point with: + +"Have you read the account of the engagement between the Mexican and +the American forces at Vera Cruz?" + +"No; not yet," she admitted. + +"Nor the list of--of casualties?" he continued, hesitatingly. + +"The casualties!" she repeated. "Why--" + +"Saint-Prosper has no further interest in the marquis' sous," he said +quickly. + +She gazed straight before her, calm and composed. This absence of any +exhibition of feeling reassured the attorney. + +"He is--dead?" she asked quietly. + +"Yes." + +"How did he die?" + +"Gallantly," replied the caller, now convinced she had no interest in +the matter, save that of a mere acquaintance. "His death is described +in half a column. You see he did not live in vain!" + +"Was he--killed in battle?" + +"In a skirmish. His company was sent to break up a band of guerilla +rancheros at Antigua. They ambushed him; he drove them out of the +thicket but fell--You have dropped your flowers. Allow me!--at the +head of his men." + +"At the head of his men!" She drew in her breath. + +"There passed the last of an ill-fated line," said the lawyer, +reflectively. "Poor fellow! He started with such bright prospects, +graduating from the military college with unusual honors. Ambitious, +light-hearted, he went to Africa to carve out a name in the army. But +fate was against him. The same ship that took him over carried back, +to the marquis, the story of his brother's disgrace--" + +"His brother's disgrace!" she exclaimed. + +Culver nodded. "He sold a French stronghold in Africa, Miss Carew." + +Had the attorney been closely observing her he would have noticed the +sudden look of bewilderment that crossed her face. She stared at him +with her soul in her eyes. + +"Ernest Saint-Prosper's--brother?" + +The turmoil of her thoughts held her as by a spell; in the disruption +of a fixed conclusion her brain was filled with new and poignant +reflections. Unconsciously she placed a nervous hand upon his arm. + +"Then Ernest Saint-Prosper who was--killed in Mexico was not the +traitor?" + +"Certainly not!" exclaimed Culver, quickly, "Owing to the disgrace, I +am sure, more than to any other reason, he bade farewell to his +country--and now lies unmourned in some mountain ravine. It is true +the marquis quarreled with him, disliking not a little the young man's +republican ideas, but--my dear young lady!--you are ill?" + +"No, no!" she returned, hastily, striving to maintain her self-possession. +"How--do you know this?" + +"Through the marquis, himself," he replied, somewhat uneasy beneath +her steady gaze. "He told me the story in order to protect the estate +from any possible pretensions on the part of the traitor. The renegade +was reported dead, but the marquis, nevertheless remained skeptical. +He did not believe in the old saw about the devil being dead. '_Le +diable_ lives always,' he said." + +The visitor observed a perceptible change in the young girl, just what +he could not define, but to him it seemed mostly to lie in her eyes +where something that baffled him looked out and met his glance. + +"His brother was an officer in the French army?" she asked, as though +forcing herself to speak. + +"Yes; ten years older than Ernest Saint-Prosper, he had already made a +career for himself. How eagerly, then, must the younger brother have +looked forward to meeting him; to serving with one who, in his young +eyes, was all that was brave and noble! What a bitter awakening from +the dream! It is not those we hate who can injure us most--only those +we love can stab us so deeply!" + +Mechanically she answered the lawyer, and, when he prepared to leave, +the hand, given him at parting, was as cold as ice. + +"Remember," he said, admonishingly; "less cloister, more city!" + +Some hours later, the old lady, dressed in her heavy silk and brocade +and with snow-white hair done up in imposing fashion, rapped on +Constance's door, but received no answer. Knocking again, with like +result, she entered the room, discovering the young girl on the bed, +her cheeks tinted like the rose, her eyes with no gleam of recognition +in them, and her lips moving, uttering snatches of old plays. Taking +her hand, the old lady found it hot and dry. + +"Bless me!" she exclaimed. "She is down with a fever." And at once +prepared a simple remedy which soon silenced the babbling lips in +slumber, after which she sent for the doctor. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE COUNCIL OF WAR + + +"Adjutant, tell Colonel Saint-Prosper I wish to see him." + +The adjutant saluted and turned on his heel, while General Scott bent +over the papers before him, studying a number of rough pencil +tracings. Absorbed in his task, the light of two candles on the table +brought into relief, against the dark shadows, a face of rugged +character and marked determination. Save for a slight contraction of +the brow, he gave no evidence of the mental concentration he bestowed +upon the matter in hand, which was to lead to the culmination of the +struggle and to vindicate the wisdom and boldness of his policy. + +"You sent for me, General?" + +An erect, martial figure stood respectfully at the entrance of the +tent. + +"Yes," said the General, pushing the papers from him. "I have been +studying your drawings of the defensive works at San Antonio Garita +and find them entirely comprehensive. A council of officers has been +called, and perhaps it will be as well for you to remain." + +"At what time shall I be here, General?" + +"It is about time now," answered the commander-in-chief, consulting +his watch. "You have quite recovered from your wounds?" he added, +kindly. + +"Yes, thank you, General." + +"I see by the newspapers you were reported dead. If your friends read +that it will cause them needless anxiety. You had better see that the +matter is corrected." + +"It is hardly worth while," returned the young man, slowly. + +The commanding general glanced at him in some surprise. "A strange +fellow!" he thought. "Has he reasons for wishing to be considered +dead? However, that is none of my business. At any rate, he is a good +soldier." And, after a moment, he continued: "Cerro Gordo was warm +work, but there is warmer yet in store for us. Only Providence, not +the Mexicans, can stop us. But here are the officers," as General +Pillow, Brevet-General Twiggs and a number of other officers entered. + +The commander-in-chief proceeded to give such information as he had, +touching the approaches to the city. Many of the officers favored +operating against San Antonio Garita, others attacking Chapultepec. +Saint-Prosper, when called on, stated that the ground before the San +Antonio gate was intersected by many irrigating ditches and that much +of the approach was under water. + +"Then you would prefer storming a fortress to taking a ditch?" said +one of the generals, satirically. + +"A series of ditches," replied the other. + +"Colonel Saint-Prosper is right," exclaimed the commanding general. "I +had already made up my mind. Let it be the western gate, then." + +And thus was brought to a close one of the most memorable councils of +war, for it determined the fate of the City of Mexico. + +Saint-Prosper looked older than when seen in New Orleans, as though he +had endured much in that brief but hard campaign. His wound had +incapacitated him for only a few months, and in spite of the climate +and a woful lack of medical attendance and nourishing supplies, his +hardy constitution stood him in such stead he was on his feet and in +the saddle, while his comrades languished and died in the fierce heat +of the temporary hospitals. His fellow-officers knew him as a fearless +soldier, but a man reticent about himself, who made a confidant of no +one. Liked for his ready, broad military qualities, it was a matter of +comment, nevertheless, that no one knew anything about him except that +he had served in the French army and was highly esteemed by General +Scott as a daring and proficient engineer. + +One evening shortly before the skirmish of Antigua, a small Mexican +town had been ransacked, where were found cattle, bales of tobacco, +pulque and wine. At the rare feast which followed a veteran drank to +his wife; a young man toasted his sweetheart, and a third, with moist +eyes, sang the praises of his mother. In the heart of the enemy's +land, amid the uncertainties of war, remembrance carried them back to +their native soil, rugged New England, the hills of Vermont, the +prairies of Illinois, the blue grass of Kentucky. + +"Saint-Prosper!" they cried, calling on him, when the festivities were +at their height. + +"To you, gentlemen," he replied, rising, glass in hand. "I drink to +your loved ones!" + +"To your own!" cried a young man, flushed with the wine. + +Saint-Prosper gazed around that rough company, brave hearts softened +to tenderness, and, lifting his canteen, said, after a moment's +hesitation: + +"To a princess on a tattered throne!" + +They looked at him in surprise. Who was this adventurer who toasted +princesses? The Mexican war had brought many soldiers of fortune and +titled gentlemen from Europe to the new world, men who took up the +cause more to be fighting than that they cared what the struggle was +about. Was the "tattered throne" Louis Philippe's chair of state, torn +by the mob in the Tuileries? And what foreign princess was the lady of +the throne? But they took up the refrain promptly, good-naturedly, and +a chorus rolled out: + +"To the princess!" + +Little they knew she was but a poor stroller; an "impudent, +unwomanish, graceless monster," according to Master Prynne. + +After leaving the commanding general's tent, Saint-Prosper retired to +rest in that wilderness which had once been a monarch's pleasure +grounds. Now overhead the mighty cypresses whispered their tales of +ancient glory and faded renown; the wind waved those trailing beards, +hoary with age; a gathering of venerable giants, murmuring the days +when the Aztec monarch had once held courtly revels under the grateful +shadows of their branches. The moaning breeze seemed the wild chant of +the Indian priest in honor of the war-god of Anahuac. It told of +battles to come and conflicts which would level to the dust the +descendants of the conquerors of that ill-starred country. And so the +soldier finally fell asleep, with that requiem ringing in his ears. + +When daybreak again penetrated the mountain recesses and fell upon the +valley, Saint-Prosper arose to shake off a troubled slumber. An +unhealthy mist hung over the earth, like a miasma, and the officer +shivered as he walked in that depressing and noxious atmosphere. It +lay like a deleterious veil before the glades where myrtles mingled +with the wild limes. It concealed from view a cross, said to have been +planted by Cortez--the cross he worshiped because of its resemblance +to the hilt of a sword!--and enveloped the hoary trees that were old +when Montezuma was a boy or when Marina was beloved by the mighty +free-booter. + +The shade resting on the valley appeared that of a mighty, virulent +hand. Out of the depths arose a flock of dark-hued birds, soaring +toward the morbific fog; not moving like other winged creatures, with +harmony of motion, but rising without unity, and filling the vale with +discordant sounds. Nowhere could these sable birds have appeared more +unearthly than in the "dark valley," as it was called by the natives, +where the mists moved capriciously, yet remained persistently within +the circumference of this natural cauldron, now falling like a pall +and again hovering in mid air. Suddenly the uncanny birds vanished +among the trees as quickly as they had arisen, and there was something +mysterious about their unwarranted disappearance and the abrupt +cessation of clamorous cries. + +While viewing this somber scene, Saint-Prosper had made his way to a +little adobe house which the natives had built near the trail that led +through the valley. As he approached this hut he encountered a dismal +but loquacious sentinel, tramping before the partly opened door. + +"This is chilly work, guard?" said the young man, pausing. + +"Yis, Colonel," replied the soldier, apparently grateful for the +interruption; "it's a hot foight I prefer to this cool dooty." + +"Whom are you guarding?" continued the officer. + +"A spy, taken in the lines a few days ago. He's to be executed this +morning at six. But I don't think he will moind that, for it's out of +his head he is, with the malaria." + +"He should have had medical attendance," observed the officer, +stepping to the door. + +"Faith, they'll cure him at daybreak," replied the guard. "It's a +medicine that niver fails." + +Saint-Prosper pushed open the door. The interior was so dim that at +first he could not distinguish the occupant, but when his eyes became +accustomed to the darkness, he discovered the figure of the prisoner, +who was lying with his back toward him on the ground of the little hut +with nothing but a thin blanket beneath him. The only light revealing +the barren details of this Indian residence sifted through the small +doorway or peered timorously down through a narrow aperture in the +roof that served for a chimney. As Saint-Prosper gazed at the +prostrate man, the latter moved uneasily, and from the parched lips +fell a few words: + +"Lock the doors, Oly-koeks! Hear the songsters, Mynheer Ten +Breecheses! Birds of prey, you Dutch varlet! What do you think of the +mistress of the manor? The serenading anti-renters have come for her." +Then he repeated more slowly: "The squaw Pewasch! For seventeen and +one-half ells of duffels! A rare principality for the scornful minx! +Lord! how the birds sing now around the manor--screech owls, +cat-birds, bobolinks!" + +The soldier started back, vivid memories assailing his mind. Who was +this man whose brain, independent of the corporeal shell, played +waywardly with scenes, characters and events, indissolubly associated +with his own life? + +"Do you know, Little Thunder, the Lord only rebuked the Pharisees?" +continued the prostrate man. "Though the Pharisee triumphs after all! +But it was the stroller I wanted, not the principality." + +He stirred quickly, as if suddenly aware of the presence of another in +the hut, and, turning, lifted his head in a startled manner, surveying +the figure near the doorway with conflicting emotions written on his +pallid countenance. Perhaps some fragment of a dream yet lingered in +his brain; perhaps he was confused at the sight of a face that met his +excited look with one of doubt and bewilderment, but only partial +realization of the identity of the intruder came to him in his fevered +condition. + +Arising deliberately, his body, like a machine, obeying automatically +some unconscious power, he confronted the officer, who recognized in +him, despite his thin, worn face and eyes, unnaturally bright, the +once pretentious land baron, Edward Mauville. Moving toward the door, +gazing on Saint-Prosper as though he was one of the figures of a +disturbing phantasm, he reached the threshold, and, lifting his hand +above his head, the prisoner placed it against one of the supports of +the hut and stood leaning there. From the creation of his mind's eye, +as he doubtlessly, half-conscious of his weakness, designated the +familiar form, he glanced at the sentinel and shook as though +abruptly conscious of his situation. Across the valley the soldiers +showed signs of bestirring themselves, the smoke of many fires +hovering earthward beneath the mist. Drawing his thin frame proudly to +its full height, with a gesture of disdain for physical weakness, and +setting his keen, wild eyes upon the soldier, Mauville said in a +hollow tone: + +"Is that really you, Mr. Saint-Prosper? At first I thought you but a +trick of the imagination. Well, look your fill upon me! You are my +Nemesis come to see the end." + +"I am here by chance, Edward Mauville; an officer in the American +army!" + +"And I, a spy in the Mexican army. So are we authorized foes." + +Rubbing his trembling hands together, his eyes shifted from the dark +birds to the mists, then from the phantom forests back to the hut, +finally resting on his shabby boots of yellow leather. The sunlight +penetrating a rift in the mist settled upon him as he moved feebly and +uncertainly through the doorway and seated himself upon a stool. This +sudden glow brought into relief his ragged, unkempt condition, the +sallowness of his face, and his wasted form, and Saint-Prosper could +not but contrast pityingly this cheerless object, in the garb of a +ranchero, with the prepossessing, sportive heir who had driven through +the Shadengo Valley. + +Apparently now the sun was grateful to his bent, stricken figure, +and, basking in it, he recalled his distress of the previous night: + +"This is better. Not long ago I awoke with chattering teeth. 'This,' I +said, 'is life; a miasma, cold, discomfort,' Yes, yes; a fever, a +miasma, with phantoms fighting you--struggling to choke you--but +now"--he paused, and fumbling in his pocket, drew out a cigarette +case, which he opened, but found empty. A cigar the other handed him +he took mechanically and lighted with scrupulous care. Near at hand +the guard, more cheerful under the prospect of speedy relief from his +duties, could be heard humming to himself: + + "Oh, Teady-foley, you are my darling, + You are my looking-glass night and morning--" + +Watching the smoker, Saint-Prosper asked himself how came Mauville to +be serving against his own country, or why he should have enlisted at +all, this pleasure-seeking man of the world, to whom the hardships of +a campaign must have been as novel as distasteful. + +"Are you satisfied with your trial?" said the soldier at length. + +"Yes," returned Mauville, as if breaking from a reverie. "I confess I +am the secret agent of Santa Anna and would have carried information +from your lines. I am here because there is more of the Latin than the +Anglo-Saxon in me. Many of the old families"--with a touch of insane +pride--"did not regard the purchase of Louisiana by the United States +as a transaction alienating them from other ties. Fealty is not a +commercial commodity. But this," he added, scornfully, "is something +you can not understand. You soldiers of fortune draw your swords for +any master who pays you." + +The wind moaned down the mountain side, and the slender trees swayed +and bent; only the heavy and ponderous cactus remained motionless, a +formidable monarch receiving obeisance from supple courtiers. Like +cymbals, the leaves clashed around this armament of power with its +thousand spears out-thrust in all directions. + +The ash fell from the cigar as Mauville held the weed before his +eyes. + +"It is an hour-glass," he muttered. "When smoked--Oh, for the power of +Jupiter to order four nights in one, the better to pursue his love +follies! Love follies," he repeated, and, as a new train of fancy was +awakened, he regarded Saint-Prosper venomously. + +"Do you know she is the daughter of a marquis?" said Mauville, +suddenly. + +"Who?" asked the soldier. + +"The stroller, of course. You can never win her," he added, +contemptuously. "She knows all about that African affair." + +Saint-Prosper started violently, but in a moment Mauville's +expression changed, and he appeared plunged in thought. + +"The last time I saw her," he said, half to himself, "she was dressed +in black--her face as noonday--her hair black as midnight--crowning +her with languorous allurement!" + +He repeated the last word several times like a man in a dream. + +"Allurement! allurement!" and again relapsed into a silence that was +half-stupor. + +By this time the valley, with the growing of the day, began to lose +much of its evil aspect, and the eye, tempted through glades and +vistas, lingered upon gorgeous forms of inflorescence. The land +baron slowly blew a wreath of smoke in the air--a circle, mute +reminder of eternity!--and threw the end of the cigar into the +bushes. Looking long and earnestly at the surrounding scene, he +started involuntarily. "The dark valley--whar de mists am risin'--I +see yo' da, honey--fo'ebber and fo'ebber--" + +As he surveyed this prospect, with these words ringing in his ears, +the brief silence was broken by a bugle call and the trampling of +feet. + +"The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall arise," said the prisoner, +turning and facing the soldiers calmly. "You have come for me?" he +asked, quietly. + +"Yes," said the officer in command. "General Scott has granted your +request in view of certain circumstances, and you will be shot, +instead of hanged." + +The face of the prisoner lighted wonderfully. He drew himself erect +and smiled with some of the assumption of the old insolence, that +expression Saint-Prosper so well remembered! His features took on a +semblance to the careless, dashing look they had borne when the +soldier crossed weapons with him at the Oaks, and he neither asked nor +intended to give quarter. + +"I thank you," he observed, courteously. "At least, I shall die like a +gentleman. I am ready, sir! Do not fasten my hands. A Mauville can die +without being tied or bound." + +The officer hesitated: "As to that--" he began. + +"It is a reasonable request," said Saint-Prosper, in a low tone. + +Mauville abruptly wheeled; his face, dark and sinister, was lighted +with envenomed malignity; an unnaturally clear perception replaced the +stupor of his brain, and, bending toward Saint-Prosper, his eye rested +upon him with such rancor and malevolence the soldier involuntarily +drew away. But one word fell from the land baron's lips, low, +vibrating, full of inexpressible bitterness. "Traitor!" + +"Come, come!" interrupted the officer in command of the execution +party; "time is up. As I was told not to fasten your hands, you shall +have your wish. Confess now, that is accommodating?" + +"Thanks," returned Mauville carelessly, relapsing into his old manner. +"You are an obliging fellow! I would do as much for you." + +"Not much danger of that," growled the other. "But we'll take the will +for the deed. Forward, march!" + + * * * * * + +After the reverberations, carried from rock to rock with menacing +reiteration, had ceased, the stillness was absolute. Even the +song-bird remained frightened into silence by those awful echoes. Then +the sun rested like a benediction on the land and the white cross of +Cortez was distinctly outlined against the blue sky. But soon the long +roll of drums followed this interval of quiet. + +"Fall in!" "Attention; shoulder arms!" And the sleeping spirit of the +Aztec war-god floated in the murmur which, increasing in volume, arose +to tumultuous shout. + +"On to Chapultepec! On to Chapultepec!" came from a thousand +throats; arms glistened in the sun, bugles sounded resonant in the +air, and the pattering noise of horses' hoofs mingled with the +stentorian voices of the rough teamsters and the cracking of the +whips. Like an irresistible, all-compelling wave, the troops swept out +of the valley to hurl themselves against castle and fortress and to +plant their colors in the heart of the capital city. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A MEETING ON THE MOUNT + + +Clothed at its base in a misty raiment of purple, the royal hill +lifted above the valley an Olympian crest of porphyritic rock into the +fathomless blue. Here not Jupiter and his court looked serenely down +upon the struggling race, "indifferent from their awful height," but a +dark-hued god, in Aztec vestments, gazed beyond the meadows to the +floating flower beds, the gardens with their baths, and the sensuous +dancing girls. All this, but a panorama between naps, soon faded away; +the god yawned, drew his cloak of humming bird feathers more closely +about him and sank back to rest. An uproar then disturbed his +paleozoic dreams; like fluttering spirits of the garish past, the +butterflies arose in the forest glades; and the voices of old seemed +to chant the Aztec psalm: "The horrors of the tomb are but the cradle +of the sun, and the dark shadows of death the brilliant lights for the +stars." Even so they had chanted when the early free-booters burst +upon the scene and beheld the valley with its frame-work of mountains +and two guardian volcanoes, the Gog and Magog of the table-land. + +Now again, from the towering column of Montezuma's cypress, to the +city marked by spires, the thunder rolled and echoed onward even to +the pine-clad cliffs and snow-crowned summits of the rocky giants. +Puffs of smoke dotted the valley beneath the mount, and, as the +answering reports reverberated across space, nature's mortars in the +inclosure of mountains sent forth threatening wreaths of white in +sympathy with the eight-inch howitzers and sixteen-pounders turned +upon the crest of the royal hill. + +When the trees were yet wet with their bath of dew the booming of +artillery and the clattering of small arms dispelled that peace which +partook of no harsher discord than the purling of streams and the +still, small voices of the forest. Through the groves where the +spirit of Donna Marina--the lost love of the marauder--was said to +wander, shrieked the round shot, shells and grape. Through tangled +shrubberies, bright with flowers and colored berries, pierced the +discharge of canister; the air, fragrant at the dawn with orange +blossom and starry jessamine, was noisome with suffocating, +sulphurous fumes, and, beneath the fetid shroud, figures in a fog +heedlessly trampled the lilies, the red roses and "flowers of the +heart." + +From the castle on the summit--mortal trespass upon the immortal pale +of the gods!--the upward shower was answered by an iron downpour, and +two storming parties, with ladders, pick-axes and crows, advanced, +one on each side of the hill, to the attack. Boom! boom! before one of +the parties, climbing and scrambling to the peak, belched the iron +missives of destruction from the concealed mouths of heavy guns, +followed by the rattling shower from small arms. + +Surprised, they paused, panting from the swift ascent, some throwing +themselves prone upon the earth, while the grape and canister passed +harmlessly over them, others seeking such shelter as rocks, trees and +shrubs afforded. Here and there a man fell, but was not suffered to +lie long exposed to the fire of the redoubt which, strongly manned, +held them in check midway to the summit. Doggedly their comrades +rescued the wounded and quickly conveyed them to the rear. + +"They've set out their watch-dogs," remarked the general commanding +the assault on that side of the hill, to one of his officers, as he +critically surveyed the formidable defense through the tangled +shrubbery. "Here is a battery we hadn't reckoned on." + +"It was to be expected, sir," responded the officer. "They were sure +to have some strong point we couldn't locate." + +"Yes," grumbled the general; "in such a jumble of foliage and +rocks it would take an eagle's eye to pick out all their miserable +ambuscades." + +"I have no doubt, sir, the men are rested now," ventured the other. + +"No doubt they are," chuckled the general, still studying the +situation, glancing to the right and the left of the redoubt. "The +more fighting they get the more they want. They are not so band-boxy +as they were, but remind me of an old, mongrel dog I once owned. He +wasn't much to look at--but I'll tell you the story later." A sudden +quick decision appearing on his face. Evidently the working of his +mind had been foreign to his words. + +"Saint-Prosper," he said, "I suppose the boys on the other side are +going up all the time? I promised our troops the honor of pulling down +that flag. I'm a man of my word; go ahead and take the batteries +and"--stroking his long gray goatee--"beat Pillow to the top." + +A word; a command; they rushed forward; not a laggard in the ranks; +not a man who shirked the leaden shower; not one who failed to offer +his breast openly and fearlessly to the red death which to them might +come when it would. Unwaveringly over rocks, chasms and mines, they +followed the tall figure of their leader; death underfoot, death +overhead! What would courage avail against concealed mines? Yet like a +pack of hounds that reck naught while the scent is warm, they pressed +forward, ever forward; across the level opening, where some dropped +out of the race, and over the ramparts! A brief struggle; confusion, +turmoil; something fearful occurring that no eye could see in its +entirety through the smoke; afterwards, a great shout that announced +to the palace on the mount the fate of the intermediary batteries! + +But there was sharper and more arduous work to come; this, merely a +foretaste of the last, fierce stand of the besieged; a stand in which +they knew they were fighting for everything, where defeat meant the +second conquest of Mexico! From the batteries the assailants had +captured to the foot of the castle seemed but a little way to them in +their zeal; no one thought of weariness, or the toil of the ascent. +But one determination possessed them--to end it all quickly; to carry +everything before them! Their victory at the redoubt gave them such +sudden, wild confidence that castles seemed no more than ant-hills--to +be trampled on! Instinctively every man felt sure of the day and +already experienced the glory of conquering that historic hill; that +invincible fortress! Over the great valley, so beautiful in its +physical features, so inspiring in its associations, should hang the +stars of the North, with the stars of heaven! + +The scaling ladders were brought up and planted by the storming party; +the first to mount were hurled back, killed or wounded, to the rocks +below, but others took their places; a lodgment was effected, and, +like the water bursting over a dike, a tide of besiegers found +ingress. + +Under a galling fire, with shouts that rang above the noise of rifles, +they drove the masses of the enemy from their guns; all save one, not +a Mexican from his fair skin, who stood confidently beside his piece, +an ancient machine, made of copper and strengthened by bands of iron. +A handsome face; dead to morality, alive to pleasure; the face of a +man past thirty, the expression of immortal one-and-twenty! A figure +from the pages of Ovid, metamorphosed to a gunner of Santa Anna! The +bright radiance from a cloudless sky, the smoke having drifted +westward from the summit, fell upon him and his gun. + +With inscrutable calmness, one hand fondling the breech, he regarded +the fleeting figures and the hoarse-throated pursuers; then, as if to +time the opportunity to the moment, he bent over the gun. + +"I wonder if this first-born can still bark!" he muttered. + +But an instant's hesitation, friend and foe being fairly intermingled, +was fatal to his purpose; the venerable culverin remained silent, and +the gunner met hand-to-hand a figure that sprang from the incoming +host. Simultaneously the rapid firing of a new wave of besiegers from +the other side of the castle threw once more a pall of smoke over the +scene, and, beneath its mantle, the two men were like figures +struggling in a fog, feeling rather than seeing each other's blade, +divining by touch the cut, pass or aggressive thrust. + +"Faugh!" laughed the gunner. "They'll kill us with smoke." + +The discharge of small arms gradually ceased; the fresh breeze again +cleared the crest of the mount, showing the white walls of the +structure which had been so obstinately defended; the valley, where +the batteries now lay silent, having spoken their thundering prologue, +and the alien flag, the regimental colors of the invaders, floating +from the upper walls. Below on the road toward the city, a band of +white across the table land, successive spots of smoke momentarily +appeared and were succeeded, after a considerable interval, by the +rub-a-dub of rifles. From the disenchanting distance the charge of a +body of men, in the attempt to dislodge a party entrenched in a ditch, +lost the tragic aspect of warfare, and the soldiers who fell seemed no +larger than the toy figures of a nursery game. + +With the brightening of the summit to the light of day, eagerly the +two combatants near the copper gun gazed for the first time into each +other's eyes, and, at that trenchant glance, a tremor crossed the +features of the gunner, and his arm, with its muscles of steel, +suddenly became inert, powerless. + +"_Mon Dieu!_--'Tis Ernest--little Ernest!" he exclaimed, wonderingly. + +For all that his opponent's sword, ominously red from the fierce first +assault at the wall, was at his breast, he made no effort to oppose +its threatening point, when a grape-shot, swifter than the blade, +fairly struck the gunner. With blood streaming from his shoulder, he +swayed from side to side, passing his hand before his eyes as one who +questions oracular evidence, and then sank to the earth with an arm +thrown over the tube of copper. Above his bronzed face the light curls +waved like those of a Viking; though his clothes were dyed with the +sanguinary hue and his chest rose and fell with labored breathing, it +was with an almost quizzical glance he regarded the other who stood as +if turned to stone. + +"That was not so easily done, Ernest," he said, not unkindly, "but +surprise broke down my guard." + +"Before God, it was not I!" cried the soldier, starting from a +trance. + +"And if it were!" With his free arm he felt his shoulder. "I believe +you are right," he observed, coolly. "Swords break no bones." + +"I will get a surgeon," said the other, as he turned. + +"What for? To shake his head? Get no one, or if--for boyish days!--you +want to serve me, lend me your canteen." + +Saint-Prosper held it to his lips, and he drank thirstily. + +"That was a draught in an oasis. I had the desert in my throat--the +desert, the wild desert! What a place to meet! But they caught +Abd-el-Kader, and there was nothing for it but to flee! Besides, I am +a rolling stone." + +To hear him who had betrayed his country and shed the blood of his +comrades, characterize himself by no harsher term was an amazing +revelation of the man's character. + +The space around them had become almost deserted; here and there lay +figures on the ground among which might be distinguished a +sub-lieutenant and other students of the military college, the castle +having been both academy and garrison. Their tuition barely over, so +early had they given up their lives beneath the classic walls of their +_alma mater_! The exhilarating cheering and shouting had subsided; the +sad after-flavor succeeded the lust of conquest. + +"Yes," continued the gunner, though the words came with an effort. +"First, it was the desert. What a place to roll and rove! I couldn't +help it for the life of me! When I was a boy I ran away from school; a +lad, I ran away from college! If I had been a sailor I would have +deserted the ship. After they captured the prophet, I deserted the +desert. So, hey for Mexico, a hilly place for a rolling stone!" + +He gasped, held his hand to his shoulder and brought it away covered +with red. But that Saint-Prosper knelt swiftly, sustaining and +supporting him, he would have slid to the ground. He smiled--sweetly +enough--on the stern soldier and placed his moist and stained hand +caressingly on that of his companion. Seeing them thus, it was not +difficult to trace a family likeness--a similarity in their very +dissimilarity. The older was younger; the younger, older. The gunner's +hair was light, his face wild as a gerfalcon beneath; the other's +dark, with a countenance, habitually repressed, but now, at the touch +of that dishonored hand, grown cold and harsh; yet despite the total +difference of expression, the hereditary resemblance could not be +stamped out. Even the smile of the wounded man was singularly like +that of his brother--a rare transformation that seldom failed to +charm. + +"That's my story," he said, smiling now, as though all the problems of +life and death could be thus dismissed. "As the prophet said: 'I have +urged my camel through every desert!' You see I know my Koran well. +But how came you here, Ernest? I thought you were in Africa, +colonizing--us!" + +"It was impossible to stay there long," replied Saint-Prosper, +slowly. + +"There's that cloud of smoke again," muttered the wounded man, +apparently oblivious to the other's response. As he spoke he withdrew +his hand from that of his brother. At that moment the tropic sun was +bathing him in its light and the white walls shone with luster. "No; +it's like the desert; the dark hour before the sand-storm." Upon his +brow the perspiration gathered, but his lip curled half-scornfully, +half-defiantly. "Turn me toward the valley, Ernest. There's more +space; more light!" + +The soldier, an automaton in passive compliance, placed him where he +commanded the outlook cityward; the open plain, protected by the +breast-works of mountains; the distant spires trembling on the +horizon; the lakes which once marked the Western Venice, a city of +perfume and song. Striking a body of water, the sun converted it into +a glowing shield, a silver escutcheon of the land of silver, and, in +contrast with this polished splendor, the shadows, trailing on the +far-away mountains, were soft, deep and velvety. But the freedom of +the outlook afforded the wounded man little comfort. + +"The storm!" he said. + +A change passed over his face, as of a shadow drawn before it. He +groped helplessly with his hand. + +"Feel in my burnoose, Ernest. A bag--around my neck--open it!" + +Saint-Prosper thrust his hand within the coat, shuddering at the +contact with the ebbing life's blood, and drew forth a leather bag +which he placed in the other's trembling fingers. With an effort, +breathing laboriously, and staring hard, as though striving to +penetrate a gathering film, the wounded man finally managed to display +the contents of the bag, emptying them in his palm, where they glinted +and gleamed in the sun's rays. Sapphires, of delicate blue; emeralds +with vitreous luster; opals of brilliant iridescence--but, above all, +a ruby of perfect color and extraordinary size, cut _en cabachon_, and +exhibiting a marvelous star of many rays; the ruby of Abd-el-Kader! + +With a venal expression of delight, the gunner regarded the contents +of the bag, feeling the gems one by one. "The rarest stone--from the +Sagyin hills, Ernest!" he whispered, as his trembling fingers played +with the ruby. + +But even as he fondled it, a great pain crossed his breast; he gripped +his shoulder tight with his free hand, clutching the precious stones +hard in his clenched fist. Thus he remained, how long the other never +knew, panting, growing paler, as the veins that carried life to his +heart were being slowly emptied. + +His head dropped. "How dark!" he murmured. "Like a _m'chacha_ where +the hashish-smokers dream!" + +The younger brother thought his energy was spent when he looked up +sharply. + +"The lamp's out, you Devil Jew!" he cried. "The pipe, too--spawn of +hell!" + +And he dropped back like stone, the gems falling from his hand, which +twitched spasmodically on the ground and then was still. Saint-Prosper +bent over him, but the heart, famished for nourishment, had ceased to +beat; the restless, wayward soul had fled from its tabernacle of dust. +Save for the stain on his breast and the fixedness of his eyes, he +might have been sleeping. + +Mechanically the soldier gathered the sapphires, emeralds and other +gems--flashing testimony of that thankless past--and, leaning +against the wall, gazed afar to the snow-capped volcanoes. Even as he +looked, the vapors arose from the solfataras of the "smoking +mountain" and a vast shower of cinders and stones was thrown into the +air. Unnoticed passed the eruption before the gaze of Saint-Prosper, +whose mind in a torpor swept dully back to youth's roseate season, +recalling the homage of the younger for the elder brother, a +worship as natural as pagan adoration of the sun. From the sanguine +fore-time to the dead present lay a bridge of darkness. With honor +within grasp, deliberately he had sought dishonor, little recking +of shame and murder, and childishly husbanding green, red and blue +pebbles! + +Weighing the stones in his hand now, Ernest Saint-Prosper looked at +them long and bitterly. For these the honor and pride of an old family +had been sold. For these he himself had endured the reflected +disgrace; isolation from comradeship; distrust which had blighted his +military career at the outset. How different had been the reality from +his expectations; the buoyant hopes of youth; the fond anticipation of +glory, succeeded by stigma and stain! And, as the miserable, +perplexing panorama of these later years pictured itself in his brain +he threw, with a sudden gesture, the gems far from him, over the wall, +out toward the valley! + +Like dancing beams of color, they flashed a moment in mid air; then +mingled their hues with the rainbow tints of a falling stream. Lost to +sight, they sank in the crystal waters which leaped with a caressing +murmur toward the table-land; only the tiny spectrum, vivid reminder +of their color, still waved and wavered from rock to rock above a +pellucid pool. + +"I beg your pardon, Colonel," said a voice at his elbow, breaking in +upon his reflections; "are you wounded?" + +With drawn features, the officer turned. + +"No; I am not wounded." + +"The general directs you to take this message to the commanding +general," continued the little aide. "I believe I may congratulate +you, sir, for you will have the honor of bearing the news of the +victory." He handed Saint-Prosper a sealed message. "It's been a +glorious day, sir, but"--gazing carelessly around him--"has cost many +a brave life!" + +"Yes, many a life!" answered the other, placing the message in his +breast and steadfastly regarding for the last time the figure beneath +the gun. + +"We ought to be in the City of Mexico in a day or two, sir," resumed +the aide. "Won't it be jolly though, after forced marches and all that +sort of thing! Fandangos; tambourines; cymbals! And the pulque! What +creatures of the moment we are, sir!" he added, with sudden +thoughtfulness. "'Twill be, after all, like dancing over the graves of +our dear comrades!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A FAIR PENITENT + + +The reception to General Zachary Taylor, on his return from Mexico, +and the inauguration of the carnival combined to the observance of a +dual festival day in the Crescent City. Up the river, past the rice +fields, disturbing the ducks and pelicans, ploughed the noisy craft +bearing "Old Rough and Ready" to the open port of the merry-making +town. When near the barracks, the welcoming cannon boomed, and the +affrighted darkies on the remote plantations shook with dire +forebodings of a Mexican invasion. + +The boat rounded at the Place d'Armes, where, beneath a triumphal arch, +General Taylor received the crown and chaplet of the people--popular +applause--and a salvo of eloquence from the mayor. With flying colors +and nourish of trumpets, a procession of civic and military bodies was +then formed, the parade finally halting at the St. Charles, where the +fatted calf had been killed and the succulent ox roasted. Sounding a +retreat, the veteran commander fell back upon a private parlor to +recuperate his forces in anticipation of the forthcoming banquet. + +From this stronghold, where, however, not all of the enemy--his +friends--could be excluded, there escaped an officer, with: "I'll look +around town a little, General." + +"Look around!" said the commander at the door. "I should think we had +looked around! Well, don't fall foul of too many juleps." + +With a laughing response, the young man pushed his way through the +jostling crowd near the door, traversed the animated corridor, and +soon found himself out on the busy street. Amid the variegated colors +and motley throng, he walked, not, however, in King Carnival's gay +domains, but in a city of recollections. The tavern he had just left +was associated with an unforgotten presence; the stores, the windows, +the thoroughfares themselves were fraught with retrospective +suggestion of the strollers. + +Even now--and he came to an abrupt standstill--he was staring at the +bill-board of the theater where she had played, the familiar entrance +bedecked with bunting and festival inscriptions. Before its classic +portals appeared the black-letter announcement of an act by +"Impecunious Jordan, Ethiopian artist, followed by a Tableau of +General Scott's Capture of the City of Mexico." Mechanically he +stepped within and approached the box office. From the little +cupboard, a strange face looked forth; even the ticket vender of old +had been swallowed up by the irony of fate, and, instead of the +well-remembered blond mustache of the erstwhile seller of seats, a +dark-bearded man, with sallow complexion, inquired: + +"How many?" + +"One," said Saint-Prosper, depositing a Mexican piece on the counter +before the cubby-hole. + +"We've taken in plenty of this kind of money to-day," remarked the +man, holding up the coin. "I reckon you come to town with old Zach?" + +"Yes." The soldier was about to turn away, when he changed his mind +and observed: "You used to give legitimate drama here." + +"That was some time ago," said the man in the box, reflectively. "The +soldiers like vaudeville. Ever hear Impecunious Jordan?" + +"I never did." + +"Then you've got a treat," continued the vender. "He's the best in his +line. Hope you'll enjoy it, sir," he concluded, with the courtesy +displayed toward one and all of "Old Rough and Ready's" men that day. +"It's the best seat left in the house. You come a little late, you +know." And as the other moved away: + +"How different they look before and after! They went to Mexico fresh +as daisies, and come back--those that do--dead beat, done up!" + +[Illustration] + +Passing through the door, Saint-Prosper was ushered to his seat in a +renovated auditorium; new curtain, re-decorated stalls, mirrors and +gilt in profusion; the old restfulness gone, replaced by glitter and +show. Amid changed conditions, the derangement of fixed external form +and outline, the sight of a broad face in the orchestra and the aspect +of a colossal form riveted his attention. This person was neither +stouter nor thinner than before; he perspired neither more nor less; +he was neither older nor younger--seemingly; he played on his +instrument neither better nor worse. Youth might fade, honors take +wing, the face of nature change, but Hans, Gargantuan Hans, appeared +but a figure in an eternal present! Gazing at that substantial +landmark, the soldier was carried back in thought over the long period +of separation to a forest idyl; a face in the firelight; the song of +the katydid; the drumming of the woodpecker. Dreams; vain dreams! They +had assailed him before, but seldom so sharply as now in a place +consecrated to the past. + + "Look out for the dandies, + Girls, beware; + Look out for their blandishments, + Dears, take care! + For they're always ready--remember this!-- + To pilfer from maids an unwilling kiss. + Oh, me! Oh, my! There! There!" (_Imaginary slaps._) + +sang and gesticulated a lady in abbreviated skirts and low-cut dress, +winking and blinking in ironical shyness, and concluding with a +flaunting of her gown, a toe pointed ceilingward, and a lively +"breakdown." Then she vanished with a hop, skip and a bow, reappeared +with a ravishing smile and threw a generous assortment of kisses among +the audience, and disappeared with another hop, skip and a bow, as +Impecunious Jordan burst upon the spectators from the opposite side of +the stage. + +Even the sight of Hans, a finger-post pointing to ways long since +traversed, could not reconcile the soldier to his surroundings; the +humor of the burnt-cork artist seemed inappropriate to the place; his +grotesque dancing inadmissible in that atmosphere once consecrated to +the comedy of manners and the stately march of the classic drama. +Where Hamlet had moralized, a loutish clown now beguiled the time with +some tom-foolery, his wit so broad, his quips were cannon-balls, and +his audience, for the most part soldiers from Mexico, open-mouthed +swallowed the entire bombardment. But Saint-Prosper, finding the +performance dull, finally rose and went out, not waiting for the +thrilling Tableaux of the Entrance into the City of Mexico of a +hundred American troops (impersonated by young ladies in tropical +attire) and the submission of Santa Anna's forces (more young ladies) +by sinking gracefully to their bended knees. + +Fun and frolic were now in full swing on the thoroughfares; +Democritus, the rollicker, had commanded his subjects to drive dull +care away and they obeyed the jovial lord of laughter. Animal spirits +ran high; mischief beguiled the time; mummery romped and rioted. +Marshaled by disorder, armed with drollery and divers-hued banners, +they marched to the Castle of Chaos, where the wise are fools, the old +are young and topsy-turvy is the order of the day. + +As Saint-Prosper stood watching the versicolored concourse swarm by, a +sudden rush of bystanders to view Faith on a golden pedestal, looking +more like Coquetry, propelled a dainty figure against the soldier. +Involuntarily he put out his arm which girded a slender waist; Faith +drove simpering by; the crowd melted like a receding wave, and the +lady extricated herself, breathless as one of the maids in Lorenzo de +Medici's Songs of the Carnival. + +"How awkward!" she murmured. "How--" + +The sentence remained unfinished and an exclamation, "Mr. Saint-Prosper!" +punctuated a gleam of recognition. + +"Miss Duran!" he exclaimed, equally surprised, for he had thought the +strollers scattered to the four winds. + +"Mrs. Service, if you please!" Demurely; at the same time extending +her hand with a faint flush. "Yes; I am really and truly married! But +it is so long since we met, I believe I--literally flew to your +arms!" + +"That was before you recognized me," he returned, in the same tone. + +Susan laughed. "But how do you happen to be here? I thought you were +dead. No; only wounded? How fortunate! Of course you came with the +others. I should hardly know you. I declare you're as thin as a lath +and gaunt as a ghost. You look older, too. Remorse, I suppose, for +killing so many poor Mexicans!" + +"And you"--surveying her face, which had the freshness of morn--"look +younger!" + +"Of course!" Adjusting some fancied disorder of hair or bonnet. +"Marriage is a fountain of youth for"--with a sigh--"old maids. Susan +Duran, spinster! Horrible! Do you blame me?" + +"For getting married? Not at all. Who is the fortunate man?" asked +Saint-Prosper. + +"A minister; an orthodox minister; a most orthodox minister!" + +"No?" His countenance expressed his sense of the incongruity of the +union. Susan one of the elect; the meek and lowly yokemate of--"How +did it happen?" he said. + +"In a perverse moment, I--went to church," answered Susan. "There, I +met him--I mean, I saw him--no, I mean, I heard him! It was enough. +All the women were in love with him. How could I help it?" + +"He must have been very persuasive." + +"Persuasive! He scolded us every minute. Dress and the devil! +I"--casting down her eyes--"interested him from the first. He--he +married me to reform me." + +"Ah," commented the soldier, gazing doubtfully upon Susan's smart +gown, which, with elaborate art, followed the contours of her figure. + +"But, of course, one must keep up appearances, you know," she +continued. "What's the use of being a minister's wife if you aren't +popular with the congregation? At least," she added, "with part of +them!" And Susan tapped the pavement with a well-shod boot and showed +her white teeth. "If you weren't popular, you couldn't fill the +seats--I mean pews," she added, evasively. "But you must come and see +me--us, I should say." + +"Unfortunately, I am leaving to-morrow." + +"To-morrow!" repeated Susan, reflectively. The pupils of her eyes +contracted, something they did whenever she was thinking deeply, and +her gaze passed quickly over his face, striving to read his impassive +features. "So soon? When the carnival is on! That is too bad, to stay +only one day, and not call on any of your old friends! Constance, I am +sure, would be delighted to see you." + +Many women would have looked away under the circumstances, but Susan's +eyes were innocently fixed upon his. Half the pleasure of the +assurance was in the accompanying glance and the friendly smile that +went with it. + +But a quiet question, "Miss Carew is living here?" was all the +satisfaction she received. + +"Yes. Have you not heard? She has a lovely home and an embarrassment +of riches. Sweet embarrassment! Health and wealth! What more could one +ask? Although I forgot, she was taken ill shortly after you left." + +"Ill," he said, starting. + +"Quite! But soon recovered!" And Susan launched into a narration of +the events that had taken place while he was in Mexico, to which he +listened with the composure of a man who, having had his share of the +vagaries of fate, is not to be taken aback by new surprises, however +singular or tragic. Susan expected an expression of regret--by look or +word--over the loss of the marquis' fortune, but either he simulated +indifference or passed the matter by with philosophical fortitude. + +"Poor Barnes!" was his sole comment. + +"Yes; it was very lonely for Constance at first," rattled on Susan. +"But I fancy she will find a woman's solace for that ailment," she +added meaningly. + +"Marriage?" he asked soberly. + +"Well, the engagement is not yet announced," said Susan, hesitatingly. +"But you know how things get around? And the count has been so +attentive! You remember him surely--the Count de Propriac? But I must +be off. I have an appointment with my husband and am already half an +hour late." + +"Don't let me detain you longer, then, I beg." + +"Oh, I don't mind. He's so delightfully jealous when I fail to appear +on the stroke of the clock! Always imagines I am in some misch--but I +mustn't tell tales out of school! So glad to have met you! Come and +see me--do!" + +And Susan with friendly hand-clasp and lingering look, tore herself +away, the carnival lightness in her feet and the carnival laughter in +her eyes. + +"He is in love with her still," she thought, "or he wouldn't have +acted so indifferent!" Her mind reverted to a cold little message she +had received from Constance. "And to think he was innocent after all!" +she continued, mentally reviewing the contents of the letter in which +Constance had related the conversation with the lawyer. "I don't +believe he'll call on her now, though, after--Well, why shouldn't I +have told him what every one is talking about? Why not, indeed?" + +A toss of the head dismissed the matter and any doubts pertaining +thereto, while her thoughts flew from past to present, as a fortress +on a car, its occupants armed with pellets of festival conflict, drove +by amid peals of laughter. Absorbed in this scene of merriment, Susan +forgot her haste, and kept her apostolic half waiting at the +rendezvous with the patience of a Jacob tarrying for a Rachel. But +when she did finally appear, with hat not perfectly poised, her hair +in a pretty disarray, she looked so waywardly charming, he forgave her +on the spot, and the lamb led the stern shepherd with a crook from +Eve's apple tree. + +"As thin as a lath and gaunt as a ghost!" repeated Saint-Prosper, as +the fair penitent vanished in a whirl of gaiety. "Susan always was +frank." + +Smiling somewhat bitterly, he paused long enough to light a cigar, but +it went out in his fingers as he strolled mechanically toward the +wharves, through the gardens of a familiar square, where the wheezing +of the distant steamers and the echoes of the cathedral clock marked +the hours of pleasure or pain to-day as it had tolled them off +yesterday. Beyond the pale of the orange trees with their golden +wealth, the drays were rumbling in the streets and there were the same +signs of busy traffic--for the carnival had not yet become a legal +holiday--that he had observed when the strollers had reached the city +and made their way to the St. Charles. He saw her anew, pale and +thoughtful, leaning on the rail of the steamer looking toward the +city, where events, undreamed of, were to follow thick and fast. He +saw her, a slender figure, earnest, self-possessed, enter the city +gates, unheralded, unknown. He saw her as he had known her in the +wilderness--not as fancy might now depict her, the daughter of a +marquis--a strolling player, and as such he loved best to think of +her. + +Arising out of his physical weakness and the period of inaction +following the treaty of peace, he experienced a sudden homesickness +for his native land; a desire to re-visit familiar scenes, to breathe +the sweet air of the country, where his boyhood had been passed, to +listen to the thunder of the boulevards, to watch the endless, +sad-joyful processions. + +Not far distant from the blossoming, redolent square was the office of +the Trans-Atlantic Steamship Company, where a clerk, with a spray of +jessamine in his coat, bent cordially toward Saint-Prosper as the +latter entered, and, approaching the desk, inquired: + +"The Dauphin is advertised to sail to-morrow for France?" + +"Yes, sir; at twelve o'clock noon." + +"Book me for a berth. Ernest Saint-Prosper," he added, in answer to +the other's questioning look. + +"Very good, sir. Would you like some labels for your baggage? Where +shall we send for it? The St. Charles? Very well, sir. Are you going +to the tableaux to-night?" he continued, with hospitable interest in +one whom he rightly conceived a stranger in the city. "They say it +will be the fashionable event. Good-day." As the prospective passenger +paid for and received his ticket. "A pleasant voyage! The Dauphin is a +new ship and should cross in three weeks--barring bad weather! Don't +forget the tableaux. Everybody will be there." + +The soldier did not reply; his heart had given a sudden throb at the +clerk's last words. Automatically he placed his ticket in his +pocket, and randomly answered the employee's further inquiries for +instructions. He was not thinking of the Dauphin or her new engines, +the forerunner of the modern quadruple-expansion arrangement, but +through his brain rang the assurance: "Everybody will be there." And +all the way up the street, it repeated itself again and again. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"COMUS' MISTICK WITCHERIES" + + +That elusive, nocturnal company, "The Mistick Krewe of Comus," had +appeared--"Comus, deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries"--and +the dwellers in Phantasmagoria were joyfully numerous. More +plentiful than at a modern spectacular performance, reveled gods, +demons and fairies, while the children resembled a flight of +masquerading butterflies. The ball at the theater, the Roman +Veglioni, succeeded elaborate tableaux, the "Tartarus," of the +ancients, and "Paradise Lost," of Milton, in which the "Krewe" +impersonated Pluto and Proserpine, the fates, harpies and other +characters of the representation. In gallery, dress-circle and +parquet, the theater was crowded, the spectacle, one of dazzling +toilets, many of them from the ateliers of the Parisian modistes; a +wonderful evolution of Proserpine's toga and the mortal robes of the +immortal Fates. Picture followed picture: The expulsion from +Paradise; the conference of the Gorgons, and the court of pandemonium, +where gluttony, drunkenness, avarice and vanity were skilfully set +forth in uncompromising colors. + +Availing themselves of the open-house of the unknown "Krewe," a +composite host that vanished on the stroke of twelve, many of "Old +Rough and Ready's" retinue mingled with the gathering, their uniforms, +well-worn, even shabby, unlike the spick and span regimentals from the +_costumier_. With bronzed faces and the indubitable air of campaigns +endured, they were the objects of lively interest to the fair maskers, +nor were themselves indifferent to the complaisance of their +entertainers. Hands, burned by the sun, looked blacker that night, +against the white gowns of waists they clasped; bearded faces more +grim visaged in contrast with delicate complexions; embroidery and +brocade whirled around with faded uniforms; and dancing aigrettes +waved above frayed epaulets and shoulder straps. + +"Loog at 'im!" murmured a _fille a la cassette_, regarding one of +these officers who, however, held aloof from the festivities; a +well-built young man, but thin and worn, as though he, like his +uniform, had seen service. "If he would only carry my trunk!" she +laughed, relapsing into French and alluding to the small chest she +bore under her arm. + +"Or my little white lamb!" gaily added her companion, a shepherdess. + +And they tripped by with sidelong looks and obvious challenge which +the quarry of these sprightly huntresses of men either chose to +disregard or was unconscious of, as he deliberately surveyed his +surroundings with more curiosity than pleasure and absently listened +to a mountebank from "The Belle's Strategem." + +"Who'll buy my nostrums?" cried the buffoon. + +"What are they?" asked Folly, cantering near on a hobby horse. + +"Different kinds for different people. Here's a powder for ladies--to +dispel the rage for intrigue. Here's a pill for politicians--to settle +bad consciences. Here's an eye-water for jealous husbands--it thickens +the visual membrane. Here's something for the clergy--it eliminates +windy discourses. Here's an infusion for creditors--it creates +resignation and teaches patience." + +"And what have you for lovers?" + +"Nothing," answered the clown; "love like fever and ague must run its +course. Nostrums! Who'll buy my nostrums?" + +"Oh, I'm so glad I came!" enthusiastically exclaimed a tall, supple +girl, laden with a mass of flowers. + +"Isn't it too bad, though, you can't polka with some of the military +gentlemen?" returned her companion who wore a toga and carried a +lantern. "Mademoiselle Castiglione wouldn't let you come, until I +promised not to allow you out of my sight." + +"It was lovely of you to take me," she said, "and I don't mind about +the military gentlemen." + +"My dear, if all women were like you, we poor civilians would not be +relegated to the background! I wish, though, I had worn some other +costume. This--ahem, dress!--has a tendency to get between my legs and +disconcert my philosophical dignity. I can understand why Diogenes +didn't care about walking abroad. My only wonder is that everybody +didn't stay in his tub in those days. Don't talk to me about the +'noble Roman!' Why, he wore skirts!" + +"And Monsieur Intaglio lectured to us for an hour to-day about the +wonderful drapery of the ancients!" laughed the girl. "The poetry of +dress, he called it!" + +"Then I prefer prose. Hello!"--pausing and raising his lantern, as +they drew near the officer who had fallen under the observation of the +_fille a la cassette_. "Colonel Saint-Prosper, or set me down for an +ass--or Plato, which is the same thing!" + +"Straws!" said the soldier, as the bard frankly lifted his mask and +tilted it back over his forehead. + +"Glad to see you!" continued the poet, extending his hand. "I haven't +run across you before since the night of the banquet; the debut of +Barnes' company you remember? You must have left town shortly +afterward. Returned this morning, of course! By the way, there's one +of your old friends here to-night." + +Saint-Prosper felt the color mount to his face, and even Straws noted +the change. "Who is that?" asked the soldier, awkwardly. + +"Mrs. Service--Miss Duran that was--now one of our most dashing--I +should say, charitable, ladies. Plenty of men at Service's church now. +She's dressed in Watteau-fashion to-night, so if you see any one +skipping around, looking as though she had just stepped from the +Embarkation for the Island of Venus, set her down for the minister's +pretty wife!" + +"And the minister?" asked Saint-Prosper, mechanically. + +"He brought her; he compromised on a Roundhead costume, himself! But +we must be off. _Au revoir_; don't be backward; the ladies are all +military-mad. It may be a field of arms"--casting his glance over the +assemblage of fashionably dressed ladies, with a quizzical smile--"but +not hostile arms! Come, Celestina--Nydia, I mean!" + +And Straws' arm stole about the waist of his companion, as Saint-Prosper +watched them disappearing in the throng of dancers. It was Celestina's +first ball, and after her long training at the Castiglione institute, she +danced divinely. Evidently, too, she was reconciled to the warden's +edict, denying her the freedom of the ball-room, for she showed no +disposition to escape from Straws' watchful care. On the contrary, +though her glance wandered to the wonders around her, they quickly +returned to the philosopher with the lamp, as though she courted the +restraint to which she was subjected. Something like a pang shot +through the soldier's breast as he followed the pair with his gaze; he +seemed looking backward into a world of youth and pleasure, passed beyond +recall. + +"It is useless to deny it! I knew you when I first saw you!" exclaimed +a familiar voice near by, and turning around sharply, the officer +observed approaching a masked lady, graceful of figure and lacking +nothing in the numerical strength of her escort. It was to her that +these words were addressed by an agile man of medium stature who had +apparently penetrated her disguise. The lady, who would have +attracted attention anywhere by her bearing, wore a pardessus of +white gauze, fitting close and bordered with a silver band; the +sleeves, short; the skirt of white gauze and very ample, as the +fashion of the day required; the feet shod in small white silk +"_bottines_"; the hair in bands, ornamented with wild poppies. +Altogether this costume was described by Phazma as "ravishing, the +gown adorning the lady, and the lady the gown, her graces set forth +against the sheen of voluminous satin folds, like those of some +portrait by Sir Joshua or Gainsborough." + +"How could you expect any one not to know you?" continued the speaker, +as this little coterie drew near, their masks a pretext for mystery. +"You may impersonate, but you can not deceive." + +"That is a poor compliment, since you take me for an actress," laughed +the lady. An hilarious outburst from an ill-assorted cluster of +maskers behind them drowned his reply, and the lady and her attendants +passed on. + +Saint-Prosper drew his breath sharply. "She is here, after all," he +said to himself. + +"A nostrum for jilted beaux!" called out a mountebank, seeing him +standing there, preoccupied, alone, at the same time tendering a pill +as large as a plum. A punchinello jarred against him with: "Pardonnez_ +moi, pardie!_" On the perfumed air the music swelled rapturously; a +waltz, warm with the national life of Vienna; the swan song of Lanner! +Softly, sweetly, breathed "Die Schoenbrunner;" faster whirled the +moving forms. Eyes flashed more brightly; little feet seemed born for +dancing; cheeks, pale at midday, were flushed with excitement! Why +doesn't he dance, wondered the lady with the white lamb. Carnival +comes but once a year; a mad, merry time; when gaiety should sweep all +cares out of doors! + + "Said Strephon to Chloe: 'For a kiss, + I'll give thee the choice of my flock.' + Said Chloe to Strephon: 'What bliss, + If you'll add to the gift a new smock,'" + +hummed the lively nymph, as she tripped by. + + "Said Chloe to Strephon: 'For a kiss, + I'll return thee the choice of your flock. + Said Strephon to Chloe: 'What bliss, + With it I'll buy Phyllis a new frock,'" + +she concluded, throwing a glance over her shoulder. + +A sudden distaste for the festal ferment, the laughter and merriment; +a desire to escape from the very exuberance of high spirits and cheer +led the soldier to make his way slowly from the ball-room to the +balcony, where, although not removed from the echoes of liveliness +within, he looked out upon the quietude of the night. Overhead +stretched the sky, a measureless ocean, with here and there a silvery +star like the light on a distant ship; an unfathomable sea of ether +that beat down upon him. Radiant and serene, in the boundless calm of +the heavens, the splendent lanterns seemed suspended on stationary +craft peacefully rocked at anchor. Longings, suppressed through months +of absence, once more found full sway; Susan's words were recalled by +the presence of the count. + +Suddenly the song of "Die Schoenbrunner" ceased within, and, as its +pulsations became hushed, many of the dancers, an elate, buoyant +throng, sought the balcony. Standing in the shadow near the entrance, +aroused from a train of reflections by this abrupt exodus, the soldier +saw among the other merry-makers, Constance and the count, who passed +through the door, so near he could almost have touched her. + +"Here she is," said the count, as they approached an elderly lady, +seated near the edge of the balcony. "Ah, Madam," he continued to the +latter, "if you would only use your good offices in my behalf! Miss +Carew is cruelty itself." + +"Why, what has she done?" asked the good gentlewoman. + +"Insisted upon deserting the ball-room!" + +"In my day," said the elderly ally of the nobleman, "you could not +drag the young ladies from cotillion or minuet. And the men would stay +till the dawn to toast them!" + +"And I've no doubt, Madam, your name was often on their lips," +returned the count gallantly, who evidently believed in the Spanish +proverb: "Woo the duenna, not the maid; then in love the game's well +played!" + +The ally in his cause made some laughing response which the soldier +did not hear. Himself unseen, Saint-Prosper bent his eyes upon the +figure of the young girl, shadowy but obvious in the reflected light +of the bright constellations. Even as he gazed, her hand removed the +mask, revealing the face he knew so well. In the silence below, the +fountain tinkled ever so loudly, as she stood, half-turned toward the +garden, a silken head-covering around her shoulders; the head outlined +without adornment, save the poppies in her hair. + +Her presence recalled scenes of other days: the drive from the races, +when her eyes had beamed so softly beneath the starry luster. Did she +remember? He dared not hope so; he did not. To him, it brought, also, +harsher memories; yet his mind was filled most with her beauty, which +appeared to gloss over all else and hold him, a not impassive +spectator, to the place where she was standing. She seemed again +Juliet--the Juliet of inns and school-house stages--the Juliet he had +known before she had come to New Orleans, whose genius had transformed +the barren stage into a garden of her own creation. + +And yet something made her different; an indefinable new quality +appeared to rest upon her. He felt his heart beating faster; he was +glad he had come; for the moment he forgot his jealousy in watching +her, as with new wealth of perfume, the languid breeze stirred the +tresses above her pallid, immovable features. But the expression of +confidence with which the count was regarding her, although ostensibly +devoting himself to her companion, renewed his inquietude. + +Had she allowed herself to be drawn into a promised alliance with that +titled roue? Involuntarily the soldier's face grew hard and stern; the +count's tactics were so apparent--flattering attention to the elderly +gentlewoman and a devoted, but reserved, bearing toward the young girl +in which he would rely upon patience and perseverance for the +consummation of his wishes. But certainly Constance did not exhibit +marked preference for his society; on the contrary, she had hardly +spoken to him since they had left the ball-room. Now clasping the iron +railing of the balcony, she leaned farther out; the flowers of the +vine, clambering up one of the supports, swayed gently around her, and +she started at the moist caress on her bare arm. + +"It is cold here," she said, drawing back. + +"Allow me--your wrap!" exclaimed the count, springing to her side with +great solicitude. + +But she adjusted the garment without his assistance. + +"You must be careful of your health--for the sake of your friends!" +Accompanying the words with a significant glance. + +"The count is right!" interposed the elderly gentlewoman. "As he +usually is!" she added, laughing. + +"Oh, Madam!" he said, bowing. "Miss Carew does not agree with you, I +am sure?" Turning to the girl. + +"I haven't given the matter any thought," she replied, coldly. She +shivered slightly, nervously, and looked around. + +At that moment the lights were turned on in the garden--another +surprise arranged by the Mistick Krewe!--illuminating trees and +shrubbery, and casting a sudden glare upon the balcony. + +"Bravo!" said the count. "It's like a _fete-champetre_! And hear the +mandolins! Tra-la-la-la-la! Why, what is it?" + +She had given a sudden cry and stood staring toward the right at the +back of the balcony. Within, the orchestra once more began to play, +and, as the strains of music were wafted to them, a host of +masqueraders started toward the ball-room. When the inflow of +merry-makers had ceased, bewildered, trembling, she looked with +blanched face toward the spot where the soldier had been standing, but +he was gone. + +At that moment the cathedral clock began to strike--twelve times it +sounded, and, at the last stroke, the Mistick Krewe, one by one began +to disappear, vanishing as mysteriously as they had come. Pluto, +Proserpine, the Fates, fairies and harpies; Satan, Beelzebub; the +dwellers in pandemonium; the aids to appetite--all took their quick +departure, leaving the musicians and the guests of the evening, +including the visiting military, to their own pleasures and devices. +The first carnival had come to a close. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +CONSTANCE AND THE SOLDIER + + +"Are you the clerk?" A well-modulated voice; a silvery crown of hair +leaning over the counter of the St. Charles; blue eyes, lighted with +unobtrusive inquiry. + +The small, quiet-looking man addressed glanced up. "No," he said; "I +am the proprietor. This"--waving his hand to a resplendent-appearing +person--"is the clerk." + +Whereupon the be-diamonded individual indicated (about whom an entire +chapter has been written by an observing English traveler!) came +forward leisurely; a Brummell in attire; an Aristarchus for taste! +Since his period--or reign--there have been many imitators; but he was +the first; indeed, created the office, and is deserving of a permanent +place in American annals. "His formality just bordered on stiffness," +wrote the interested Briton, as though he were studying some new +example of the human species; "his conversation was elegant, but +pointed, as he was gifted with a cultured economy of language. He +accomplished by inflection what many people can only attain through +volubility." + +"Yes?" he interrogatively remarked, gazing down at the caller in the +present instance. + +"Is Colonel Saint-Prosper stopping here?" + +"Yes." + +"Send this card to his room." + +"Yes?" Doubtfully. + +"Is there any reason why you shouldn't?" + +"There was a military banquet last night," interposed the quiet, +little man. "Patriotism bubbled over until morning." + +"Ah, yes," commented Culver--for it was he--"fought their battles over +again! Some of them in the hospital to-day! Well, well, they suffered +in a glorious cause, toasting the president, and the army, and the +flag, and the girls they left behind them! I read the account of it in +the papers this morning. Grand speech of the bishop; glorious response +of 'Old Rough and Ready'! You are right to protect sleeping heroes, +but I'm afraid I must run the guard, as my business is urgent." + +A few moments later the lawyer, breathing heavily, followed a colored +lad down a crimson-carpeted corridor, pausing before a door upon which +his guide knocked vigorously and then vanished. + +"Colonel Saint-Prosper?" said the lawyer, as he obeyed the voice +within and entered the room, where a tall young man in civilian attire +was engaged in packing a small trunk. "One moment, pray--let me catch +my breath. That lad accomplished the ascent two steps at a time, and, +I fear, the spectacle stimulated me to unusual expedition. We're apt +to forget we are old and can't keep up with boys and monkeys!" + +During this somewhat playful introduction the attorney was studying +the occupant of the room with keen, bright gaze; a glance which, without +being offensive, was sufficiently penetrating and comprehensive to +convey a definite impression of the other's face and figure. The +soldier returned his visitor's look deliberately, but with no surprise. + +"Won't you sit down?" he said. + +Culver availed himself of the invitation. "I am not disturbing you? I +have long known of you, although this is our first meeting." + +"You have then the advantage of me," returned Saint-Prosper, "for +I--" + +"You never heard of me?" laughed the lawyer. "Exactly! We attorneys +are always getting our fingers in every one's affairs! I am acquainted +with you, as it were, from the cradle to the--present!" + +"I am unexpectedly honored!" remarked the listener, satirically. + +"First, I knew you through the Marquis de Ligne." + +Saint-Prosper started and regarded his visitor more closely. + +"I was the humble instrument of making a fortune for you; it was also +my lot to draw up the papers depriving you of the same!" Culver +laughed amiably. "'Oft expectation fails, where most it promises.' +Pardon my levity! There were two wills; the first, in your favor; the +last, in his daughter's. I presume"--with a sudden, sharp look--"you +have no intention of contesting the final disposition? The paternity +of the child is established beyond doubt." + +Artful Culver was not by any means so sure in his own mind that, if +the other were disposed to make trouble, the legal proofs of +Constance's identity would be so easily forthcoming. Barnes was dead; +her mother had passed away many years before; the child had been born +in London--where?--the marquis' rationality, just before his demise, +was a debatable question. In fact, since he had learned Saint-Prosper +was in the city, the attorney's mind had been soaring among a cloud of +vague possibilities, and now, regarding his companion with a most +kindly, ingratiating smile, he added: + +"Besides, when the marquis took you as a child into his household, +there were, I understood, no legal papers drawn!" + +"I don't see what your visit portends," said Saint-Prosper, "unless +there is some other matter?" + +"Just so," returned Culver, his doubts vanishing. "There was a small +matter--a slight commission. Miss Carew requested me to hand you this +message." The visitor now detected a marked change in the soldier's +imperturbable bearing, as the latter took the envelope which the +attorney offered him. "The young lady saw you at the Mistick Krewe +ball last night, and, recognizing an old friend,"--with a slight +accent--"pressed me into her service. And now, having completed my +errand, I will wish you good-morning!" And the lawyer briskly +departed. + +The young man's hand trembled as he tore open the envelope, but he +surveyed the contents of the brief message with tolerable firmness. + + "COLONEL SAINT-PROSPER: Will you kindly call this morning to see + me? + + CONSTANCE CAREW." + +That was all; nothing more, save the address and the date! How long he +remained staring at it with mingled feelings he never knew, but +finally with a start, looked at his watch, thoughtfully regarded the +half-filled trunk, donned his coat and left the room. Several +fellow-officers, the first of the sluggards to appear, spoke to him as +he crossed the hall below, but what they said or what he replied he +could not afterward remember. Some one detained him at the steps, a +gentleman with a longing for juleps, but finally he found himself in a +carriage, driving somewhere, presumably to the address given in the +letter. How long the drive seemed, and yet when the carriage finally +stopped and he had paid his fare, he mentally determined it had been +too short! The driver gazed in surprise after the gentleman, who did +not wait for his change, but, forbearing injudicious comment, gathered +up the reins and drove to the nearest _cafe_. + +From the carriage the house was some distance, and yet it appeared +very near the gate to the soldier, who dimly realized he was passing +through a garden where were many flowering plants and where the air +was unusually heavy with perfume. Many other details, the construction +of the house, the size of the verandas, passed without attracting his +notice. Soon, however, he was seated in a great room, an apartment of +old-fashioned height and breadth. He felt his heart beating fast. How +long did he sit there? No inconsiderable period, surely. He examined +everything carefully, without carrying a definite impression of +anything to his mind. The large, carved mirror; the quaint decoration +of walls and frieze; the soft colors of the rug that covered the +floor; the hundred and one odd little things in the cabinet near the +chair where he was seated, trifles in ivory, old silver and china; the +pictures, a Van Dyke, Claude, and a few modern masters. After this +interminable, but confused scrutiny of inanimate things, his heart +beat faster still, as a tall figure, robed in white, entered the +room! + +He rose; they regarded each other with mutual constraint; her face had +a bit of color, like the tinge of a rose-leaf; her eyes seemed +agitated beneath the sweeping lashes, a sentiment in ill accord with +the stateliness of her presence. She gave him her hand; he held it he +knew not how long; probably, for the conventional moment. They found +themselves, each in a chair; at ease, yet not at ease; he studying her +face, furtively, yet eagerly; she turning in her fancy the first +strong impression of how gaunt and haggard were his features, bearing +the traces of recent illness! + +"I am glad you came," she began, their eyes meeting once more. + +He bowed. "Mr. Culver brought me your message." + +"I heard that you--it was reported you were dead." + +"I was wounded; that was all, and soon took to the field again." + +The suspense that fell between them was oppressive. + +"You should have let your friends--know," she said at length. + +He looked at her curiously, vivid memories of their last interview +recurring to him. Indecisively she interlaced her fingers, and he, +watching them, wondered why she had sent for him. Suddenly she rose, +walked to the window, and stood, looking out. He, sitting in the dim +light, in a maze of uncertainty, was vaguely conscious of her figure +outlined against the brightness without; of the waving, yellow flowers +of the vines on the veranda. + +"It is long since we have met," he said, awkwardly. + +She did not answer. Had she heard? Yet he did not resent her silence. +If he had ever felt anger for her it had all vanished now. He was only +conscious of regarding her more attentively, as she still remained, +gazing out into the sunlit garden. + +"Much has happened since I saw you," he continued. + +She turned; her eyes were moist; her hand trembled a little against +her dress, but she held her head proudly, as she had always done, and +it was the aspect of this weakness set against strength that appealed +swiftly to him, softening his heart so that he longed to spring to her +side. + +"Yes, much!" she replied. + +Was her voice tremulous, or was it but the thrill of his own heart +which made it seem so? + +"You have been here long?" she asked, still holding back what was on +her mind or blindly endeavoring to approach the subject. + +"Only since yesterday." + +"And you remain some time?" + +"I am leaving to-day--for France." + +At that a touch of color left her face, or was it that a darkening +shadow fell upon the house and garden, momentarily chastening the +outlook? + +"For France?" she repeated. + +Her lips quivered. Something seemed to still the beating of his +heart. + +"Constance--what is it?" he half-whispered. + +She stepped forward suddenly, her hands outstretched. + +"I wronged you!" she cried. "I wronged you. I thought the disgrace was +yours. Oh, do not speak!" she added, passionately. "I have suffered +for it--and now, would you mind--please--leaving me?" + +"You thought the disgrace was mine!" he repeated, slowly. "Not my"--he +broke off abruptly. "And you suffered--for it?" he said, wonderingly. +"Then you--" He arose quickly and approached her, a new expression +transfiguring his bronzed and worn young face. + +Swiftly he sought her glance; her eyes gave irrefutable answer. +Unresistingly, she abandoned herself to his arms, and he felt her +bosom rise and fall with conflicting emotions. Closely he held her, in +the surprise and surpassing pleasure of the moment; then, bending, he +kissed her lips. A wave of color flooded her face, though her eyes +still sought his. But even as he regarded her, the clear, open look +gradually changed, replaced by one of half-perplexity, half-reproach. + +"That night you went away--why did you not defend yourself?" she +asked, finally. + +"I never imagined--any mistake. Besides, what had I to offer? Your +future was bright; your name, on every one's lips!" + +"Did you think you were responsible for another's sins?" + +His dark features clouded. + +"I suppose I had become accustomed to cold looks. In Africa, by some +of my comrades who had an inkling of the story! No matter what I did, +I was his brother! And the bitterest part was that I loved him; loved +him from my boyhood! He was the handsomest, most joyous fellow! Even +when he died in my arms in Mexico my heart could not absolutely turn +from him." + +[Illustration] + +She opened her lips as if to speak, but the shadow on his face kept +her silent. + +"I was weak enough to keep the story from you in the first place--a +foolish reticence, for these matters follow a man to the ends of the +world." + +"Oh," she said, "to think it was I who made you feel this!" + +He took her hand; his grasp hurt her fingers; yet she did not shrink. + +"You showed me a new world," he answered, quickly. "Not the world I +expected to find--where life would hold little of joy or zest--but a +magical world; a beautiful world; yours!" + +She half-hung her head. "But then--then--" + +"It became a memory; bitter-sweet; yet more sweet than bitter!" + +"And now?" + +He did not answer immediately. + +The figure of the count, as he had seen him the night before, had +abruptly entered his mind. Did she understand? She smiled. + +"And now?" + +At her question he dismissed all thought of jealousy. Looking into her +clear, half-laughing eyes, he read of no entangling alliances; without +words from her, he understood. + +"Shall we go into the garden?" she said, and, opening the window, they +stepped out upon the veranda. + +In the sky a single large cloud stretched itself in a dreamy torpor, +too sluggish, apparently to move, while a brood of little clouds +nestled and slept around it. From the window, the count's ally watched +them, among the plants and vines, pausing now and then; their interest +more in themselves than in the liveliest hues or forms that nature +offered. He stood still, regarding his shadow on the path seriously. + +"Nearly noon by the soldier's dial!" he said. + +She pushed back the hair the wind had blown about her brow. + +"My boat sails in an hour," he continued. + +"But--you are not--going--now?" + +"If I stay, it must be--" + +"Forever!" she said. "Forever!" + + * * * * * + +"Have you heard the news?" said Susan to the count. + +"Secular?" drawled the erstwhile emissary. He was in ill-humor, having +called three times on Constance, who had been excused on all these +occasions. + +"Not necessarily," replied she, with the old familiar toss of the +head. "Saint-Prosper has come back, and he's going to marry +Constance!" + +"Eh? What? I don't be--Who told you?" demanded the count, sharply. + +"Well, you needn't take my head off! She did, if you want to know." + +"Miss Carew?" + +"Herself!" + +The nobleman lolled back in his chair, a dark look on his face. Here +were fine hopes gone a-glimmering! + +"_Pardie!_ the creditors will have to wait awhile," he thought. "And +I--I have been a dunce, dancing attendance all these days! I had hoped +to marry wealth and beauty. What did I come over here for? The demned +country's barren of everything!" + +"Isn't it delightful they should meet after such a long time?" rattled +on Susan, gaily. "So romantic! And then they were exactly suited for +each other. Dear me,"--enthusiastically--"I have taken such an +interest in them, I almost feel as if I had brought it all about." + +THE END + + + + +A LIST OF RECENT FICTION OF THE BOWEN-MERRILL COMPANY + + + + +AN INTERESTING STORY OF FAMILY LIFE. + +THE FIGHTING BISHOP + +By HERBERT M. HOPKINS + +"The Fighting Bishop" is drawn with firm, bold strokes and with a +sufficiently scholarly atmosphere to make the picture life like. There is +wisdom too, in the attitude of the author toward his characters; and the +entire atmosphere of the book is of fine quality. The general accuracy and +vividness of the portraiture are likely to impress everyone. * * * It +contains passages and characterizations that some readers will find it +difficult to forget.--The Hartford Courant. + +The bishop's musical son, Stephen's, obstinate vanity, his irritable +nervous nature, his impatience of advice and his wonderful confidence in +his own genius are admirably brought out in the course of the narrative +and the chapter containing his letters to his brother is one of the best +in the book. It shows his character humorously and without exaggeration, +and this is typical of the whole story. The author sees his personages +with a human sympathetic eye.--New York Sun. + +12 mo. Cloth, ornamental, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis. + + + + +"NOTHING BUT PRAISE" + +LAZARRE + +By MARY HARTWELL CATHERWOOD + +Glorified by a beautiful love story.--Chicago Tribune. + +We feel quite justified in predicting a wide-spread and prolonged +popularity for this latest comer into the ranks of historical +fiction.--The N. Y. Commercial Advertiser. + +After all the material for the story had been collected a year was +required for the writing of it. It is an historical romance of the better +sort, with stirring situations, good bits of character drawing and a +satisfactory knowledge of the tone and atmosphere of the period +involved.--N. Y. Herald. + +Lazarre, is no less a person than the Dauphin, Louis XVII. of France, and +a right royal hero he makes. A prince who, for the sake of his lady, +scorns perils in two hemispheres, facing the wrath of kings in Europe and +the bullets of savages in America; who at the last spurns a kingdom that +he may wed her freely--here is one to redeem the sins of even those who +"never learn and never forget."--Philadelphia. North American. + +With six Illustrations by Andre Castaigne + +12 mo. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A VIVACIOUS ROMANCE OF REVOLUTIONARY DAYS + +ALICE of OLD VINCENNES + +By MAURICE THOMPSON + +The Atlanta Constitution says: + +"Mr. Thompson, whose delightful writings in prose and verse have made his +reputation national, has achieved his master stroke of genius in this +historical novel of revolutionary days in the West." + +The Denver Daily News says: + +"There are three great chapters of fiction: Scott's tournament on Ashby +field, General Wallace's chariot race, and now Maurice Thompson's duel +scene and the raising of Alice's flag over old Fort Vincennes." + +The Chicago Times-Herald says: + +"More original than 'Richard Carvel,' more cohesive than 'To Have and To +Hold,' more vital than 'Janice Meredith,' such is Maurice Thompson's +superb American romance, 'Alice of Old Vincennes.' It is, in addition, +more artistic and spontaneous than any of its rivals." + +VIRGINIA HARNED EDITION + +12mo., with six illustrations drawn by F. C. Yohn and a frontispiece in +color by Howard Chandler Christy + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY BY THE "MARCH KING" + +THE FIFTH STRING + +By JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + +The "March King" has written much in a musical way, but "The Fifth +String" is his first published story. In the choice of his subject, as +the title indicates, Mr. Sousa has remained faithful to his art; and the +great public, that has learned to love him for the marches he has made, +will be as delighted with his pen as with his baton. + +"The Fifth String" has a strong and clearly defined plot which shows in +its treatment the author's artistically sensitive temperament and his +tremendous dramatic power. It is a story of a marvelous violin, of a +wonderful love and of a strange temptation. + +A cover, especially designed, and six full-page illustrations by Howard +Chandler Christy, serve to give the distinguishing decorative +embellishments that this first book by Mr. Sousa so richly deserves. + +With Pictures by Howard Chandler Christy + +12 mo. Price, $1.25 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"A NOVEL THAT'S WORTH WHILE" + +THE REDEMPTION OF DAVID CORSON + +By CHARLES FREDERIC GOSS + +A Mid-century American Novel of Intense Power and Interest + +The Interior says: + +"This is a book that is worth while. Though it tells of weakness and +wickedness, of love and license, of revenge and remorse in an intensely +interesting way, yet it is above all else a clean and pure story. No one +can read it and honestly ask 'what's the use.'" + +Newell Dwight Hillis, Pastor of Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, says; + +"'The Redemption of David Corson' strikes a strong, healthy, buoyant +note." + +Dr. F. W. Gunsaulus, President Armour Institute, says: + +"Mr. Goss writes with the truthfulness of light. He has told a story in +which the fact of sin is illuminated with the utmost truthfulness and the +fact of redemption is portrayed with extraordinary power. There are lines +of greatness in the book which I shall never forget." + +President M. W. Stryker, Hamilton College, says: + +"It is a victory in writing for one whose head seems at last to have +matched his big human heart. There is ten times as much of reality in it +as there is in 'David Harum,' which does not value lightly that admirable +charcoal sketch." + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"THE MERRIEST NOVEL OF MANY, MANY MOONS." + +MY LADY PEGGY GOES TO TOWN + +By FRANCES AYMAR MATHEWS + +The Daintiest and Most Delightful Book of the Season. + +A heroine almost too charming to be true is Peggy, and it were a churlish +reader who is not, at the end of the first chapter, prostrate before her +red slippers.--Washington Post. + +To make a comparison would be to rank "My Lady Peggy" with "Monsieur +Beaucaire" in points of attraction, and to applaud as heartily as that +delicate romance, this picture of the days "When patches nestled o'er +sweet lips at chocolate times."--N. Y. Mail and Express. + +12 mo. Beautifully illustrated and bound. + +Price, $1.25 net + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AS CRISP AND CLEAN CUT AS A NEW MINTAGE." + +THE PUPPET CROWN + +BY HAROLD MacGRATH + +A princess rarely beautiful; a duchess magnificent and heartless; a +villain revengeful and courageous; a hero youthful, humorous, fearless and +truly American;--such are the principal characters of this delightful +story.--Syracuse Post-Standard. + +Harold MacGrath has attained the highest point achievable in recent +fiction. We have the climax of romance and adventure in "The Puppet +Crown."--The Philadelphia North American. + +Superior to most of the great successes.--St. Paul Pioneer Press. + +"The Puppet Crown" is a profusion of cleverness.--Baltimore American. + +Challenges comparison with authors whose names have +become immortal--Chicago American. + +Latest entry in the list of winners.--Cleveland World. + +With illustrations by R. Martine Reay + +12mo. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AN ADMIRABLE SOCIAL STUDY" + +THE FALL OF THE CURTAIN + +By HAROLD BEGBIE + +The purpose of this brilliant story of modern English life is to show that +a human being, well brought-up, carefully trained in the outward +observances of religion, with a keen intellectual perception of the +difference between right and wrong, may still not have goodness, and that +ambition may easily become the dominating force in such a character. So +the book may be called a purpose novel, but in reading it, one no more +thinks of applying so discredited an epithet to it than one would think of +applying it to "Vanity Fair." + +The author possesses an admirable style, clear, unaffected, strong. To the +discriminating public, the book is certain to give far more pleasure than +that public usually gets from a new novel. + +With a Frontispiece by C. Allan Gilbert + +Cloth, 12 mo. Ornamental, $1.25 Net. + +Postage, 12 Cents + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +FULL OF INCIDENT, ACTION & COLOR + +LIKE ANOTHER HELEN + +By GEORGE HORTON + +Mr. Horton's powerful romance stands in a new field and brings an almost +unknown world in reality before the reader--the world of conflict between +Greek and Turk. + +The island of Crete seems real and genuine after reading this book; not a +mere spot on the map. The tragic and pathetic troubles of this people are +told with sympathetic force. + +Mr. Horton employs a vivid style that keeps the interest alive and many +passages are filled with delicate poetic feeling. + +Things happen and the story moves. The characters are well conceived and +are human and convincing. Beyond question Mr. Horton's fine story is +destined to take high rank among the books of the day. + +With illustrations by C. M. Relyea + +12mo, Cloth bound + +Price, $1.50 + +The Chicago Times-Herald says: + +"Here are chapters that are Stephen Crane plus sympathy; chapters of +illuminated description fragrant with the atmosphere of art." + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"A CHRONICLE OF MARVELS" + +THE FIRST MEN IN THE MOON + +By H. G. WELLS + +Author of "The War of the Worlds" and "Tales of Time and Space." + +Mr. Wells writes to entertain and in this tale of the invention of +"cavorite," and the subsequent remarkable journey made to the moon by +its inventor, he has succeeded beyond measure in alternately astounding, +convincing and delighting his readers. Told in a straightforward way, with +an air of ingenuousness that disarms doubt, the story chronicles most +marvelous discoveries and adventures on the mysterious planet. Mr. +Hering's many illustrations are admirable. Altogether the book is one of +the most original and entertaining volumes that has appeared in many a +day. + +Profusely Illustrated by E. Hering + +12mo., cloth, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"AN INDIANA LOVE STORY" + +ROSALYNDE'S LOVERS + +By MAURICE THOMPSON + +Author of "Alice of Old Vincennes" + +As Mr. Thompson avers, this is "only a love story," but it is a story of +such sweetness and wholesome life that it will at once claim a permanent +home in our affections. The love of nature, so prominent a characteristic +of Mr. Thompson, is reflected throughout and the thunderstorm and +following gleam of sun, the country garden and southern lake are each in +turn invested with a personality that wins our instant sympathy. Rosalynde +Banderet is winsome and artless, her lovers are human and manly, and her +final happiness is ours. Mr. Peirson's many pictures are entirely worthy. + +With many Illustrations and Decorations by G. Alden Peirson + +Ornamental 12mo. Cloth Bound, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +ANOTHER SUCCESSFUL HISTORICAL NOVEL + +THE BLACK WOLF'S BREED + +By HARRIS DICKSON + +From the Boston Globe: + +"A vigorous tale of France in the old and new world during the reign of +Louis XIV." + +From the Philadelphia Press: + +"As delightfully seductive as certain mint-flavored beverages they make +down South." + +From the Los Angeles Herald: + +"The sword-play is great, even finer than the pictures in 'To Have and To +Hold.'" + +From the San Francisco Chronicle: + +"As fine a piece of sustained adventure as has appeared in recent +fiction." + +From the St. Louis Globe-Democrat: + +"There is action, vivid description and intensely dramatic situations." + +From the Indianapolis News: + +"So full of tender love-making, of gallant fighting, that one regrets +it's no longer." + +Illustrated by C. M. Relyea. Price $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"IN LONDON OF LONG AGO" + +THE FICKLE WHEEL + +By HENRY THEW STEPHENSON + +In this tale of merry England, of the time when Shakespeare jested and Ben +Johnson blustered, Mr. Stephenson has painted for us a picture informing +and above all entertaining. His is not a story of counts and crowns, but +of the ever interesting common people. Without seeming to do so the author +shows us many interesting bits of the life of the day. We go to Paul's +walk, we see Shakespeare play at the Globe theatre and other such glimpses +of old time London are deftly added to our experiences. Throughout the +book is an evanescent charm, a spirit of wholesome gaiety. It is well +worth while. + +With illustrations by C. M. Relyea + +Cloth, Ornamental, 12 mo. Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A FINE STORY OF THE COWBOY AT HIS BEST + +WITH HOOPS of STEEL + +By FLORENCE FINCH KELLY + +"The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them to thy +soul with hoops of steel" + +From the San Francisco Chronicle: + +"Western men and women will read it because it paints faithfully the life +which they know so well, and because it gives us three big, manly fellows, +fine types of the cowboy at his best. Eastern readers will be attracted by +its splendid realism." + +From Julian Hawthorne: + +"For my own part, I finished it all in one day, and dreamt it over again +that night. And I am an old hand, heaven knows." + +From the Denver Times: + +"Mrs. Kelly's characters stand out from the background of the New Mexican +plains, desert and mountain with all the distinctness of a Remington +sketch." + +With six illustrations, in color, by Dan Smith + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +"DIFFICULT TO FORGET" + +A FEARSOME RIDDLE + +By MAX EHRMAN + +This mystery story, based on the theory of the arithmetical rhythm of +time, contains much of the same fascination that attaches to the tales of +Poe. Simply told, yet dramatic and powerful in its unique conception, it +has a convincing ring that is most impressive. The reader can not evade a +haunting conviction that this wonderful experiment must in reality have +taken place. Delightful to read, difficult to forget, the book must evoke +a wide discussion. + +With Pictures by Virginia Keep + +12 mo. Cloth, $1.00 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A NOVEL OF EARLY NEW YORK + +PATROON VAN VOLKENBERG + +By HENRY THEW STEPHENSON + +From the New York Press: + +"Many will compare 'Patroon Van Volkenberg,' with its dash, style and +virility, with 'Richard Carvel,' and in that respect they will be right, +as one would compare the strong, sturdy and spreading elm with a slender +sapling." + +The action of this stirring story begins when New York was a little city +of less than 5,000 inhabitants. + +The Governor has forbidden the port to the free traders or pirate ships, +which sailed boldly under their own flag; while the Patroon and his +merchant colleagues not only traded openly with the buccaneers, but owned +and managed such illicit craft. The story of the clash of these +conflicting interests and the resulting exciting happenings is absorbing. + +The atmosphere of the tale is fresh in fiction, the plot is stirring and +well knit, and the author is possessed of the ability to write forceful, +fragrant English. + +From the Brooklyn Standard-Union: + +"The tale is one of vibrant quality. It can not be read at a leisurely +pace. It bears the reader through piratical seas and buccaneering +adventures, through storm and stress of many sorts, but it lands him +safely, and leads him to peace." + +12mo, Illustrated in color by C. M. Relyea + +Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY OF THE MORGAN RAID, DURING THE WAR OF THE REBELLION + +THE LEGIONARIES + +By HENRY SCOTT CLARK + +The Memphis Commercial-Appeal says: + +"The backbone of the story is Morgan's great raid--one of the most +romantic and reckless pieces of adventure ever attempted in the history of +the world. Mr. Clark's description of the Ride of the Three Thousand is a +piece of literature that deserves to live; and is as fine in its way as +the chariot race from 'Ben Hur.'" + +The Cincinnati Commercial-Tribune says: + +"'The Legionaries' is pervaded with what seems to be the true spirit of +artistic impartiality. The author is simply a narrator. He stands aside, +regarding with equal eye all the issues involved and the scales dip not in +his hands. To sum up, the first romance of the new day on the Ohio is an +eminently readable one--a good yarn well spun." + +The Rochester Herald says: + +"The appearance of a new novel in the West marks an epoch in fiction +relating to the war between the sections for the preservation of the +Union. 'The Legionaries' is a remarkable book, and we can scarcely credit +the assurance that it is the work of a new writer." + +12mo, illustrated, Price, $1.50 + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +A STORY TOLD BY A REAL STORYTELLER + +A SON OF AUSTERITY + +By GEORGE KNIGHT + +Mr. Knight has created a real atmosphere for his men and women to breathe, +and his men and women take deep breaths. They are alive, they are human, +they are real. + +He has a delightful story to tell and knows how to tell it. It is a story +of human life, of possible people in possible situations, living out their +little span of life in that state in which it has pleased God to call +them. + +The reader realizes at once that Mr. Knight is a man who served his seven +years of apprenticeship before opening a shop on his own account. + +The deftness and charm of his literary style, combined with the absorbing +interest of the story, can not but prove a delight to every reader. + +With a frontispiece by Harrison Fisher + +12mo, Cloth. Price, $1.50 + +The Liverpool Mercury says: + +"This is a book far removed from the ordinary mass of featureless +fiction. There is no gainsaying the strength of characterization and the +command of English language." + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + +VIGOROUS, ELEMENTAL, DRAMATIC + +A HEART OF FLAME + +The story of a Master Passion + +BY CHARLES FLEMING EMBREE + +Author of "A Dream of a Throne." + +The men and women in this story are children of the soil. Their strength +is in their nearness to nature. Their minds are vigorous, their bodies +powerful, their passions elemental, their courage sublime. They are loyal +in friendship, persistent in enmity, determined in purpose. + +The story is a story of great wrongs and of supreme love. It is done in +black and white, with few strokes, but they are masterly. The shadows at +the back are somber but the value of contrast is appreciated for the vivid +high light in the foreground. + +It is a work of art--powerful, convincing and abiding. Powerful, because +true to life; convincing, for it has the saving touch of humor; and +abiding because love, like "A Heart of Flame," prevails in the end. + +With illustrations by Dan Smith + +12mo. cloth. Price, $1.50. + +The Bowen-Merrill Company, Indianapolis + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strollers, by Frederic S. Isham + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STROLLERS *** + +***** This file should be named 29726.txt or 29726.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/7/2/29726/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/29726.zip b/29726.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ece7d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/29726.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..36c58fc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #29726 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/29726) |
