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diff --git a/old/69483-0.txt b/old/69483-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2af0a28..0000000 --- a/old/69483-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10065 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The amulet, by Charles Egbert Craddock - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The amulet - -Author: Charles Egbert Craddock - -Release Date: December 6, 2022 [eBook #69483] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Peter Becker, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AMULET *** - - - - - -THE AMULET - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE AMULET - - A Novel - - BY - CHARLES EGBERT CRADDOCK - - AUTHOR OF - “THE STORM CENTRE,” “THE STORY OF OLD FORT - LOUDON,” “A SPECTRE OF POWER,” “THE - FRONTIERSMEN,” “THE PROPHET OF THE - GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS,” ETC., ETC. - - New York - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. - 1906 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1906, - BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. - - Set up and electrotyped. Published October, 1906. - - - Norwood Press - J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. - Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - -THE AMULET - - - - -THE AMULET - -CHAPTER I - - -The aspect of the lonely moon in this bleak night sky exerted a strange -fascination upon the English girl. She often paused to draw the -improvised red curtain at the tiny window of the log house that served -as the commandant’s quarters and gaze upon the translucent sphere as -it swung westering above the spurs of the Great Smoky Mountains, which -towered in the icy air on the horizon. Beneath it the forests gleamed -fitfully with frost; the long snowy vistas of the shadowy valleys -showed variant tones of white in its pearly lustre. So dominant was the -sense of isolation, of the infinite loneliness of the wilderness, that -to her the moon was like this nowhere else. A suspended consciousness -seemed to characterize it, almost an abeyance of animation, yet this -still serene splendor did not suggest death. She had long ago been -taught, indeed, that it was an extinct and burnt-out world. But in this -strange new existence old theories were blunted and she was ready for -fresh impressions. This majestic tranquillity seemed as of deep and -dreamless slumber, and the picturesque fancy of the Indians that the -moon is but the sun asleep took strong hold on her imagination. She -first heard the superstition one evening at dusk, as she stood at the -window with one end of the curtain in her hand, and asked her father -what was the word for “moon” in the Cherokee language. - -“Don’t know! The moon in English is bright enough for me!” exclaimed -Captain Howard, as he sat in his easy-chair before the fire with -his glass of wine. A decanter was on the table beside him, and with -venison and wild-fowl for the solid business of dinner, earlier in -the afternoon, and chocolate-and-cocoanut custard, concocted by his -daughter, for the “trifle,” he had fared well enough. - -Very joyous he was in these days. The Seven Years’ War was fairly over, -the treaty of peace concluded, and the surrender of the French forts on -the American frontier already imminent, even thus early in the spring -of 1763. His own difficult tour of service, here at Fort Prince George, -the British stronghold on the eastern edge of the Cherokee country, was -nearing its close. He, himself, was to be transferred to a post of ease -and comfort at Charlestown, where he would enjoy the benignities of -social courtesies and metropolitan association, and where his family, -who had come out from England for the purpose, could join him for a -time. Indeed, on his recent return from South Carolina, where he had -spent a short leave of absence, he had brought thence with him his -eldest daughter, an intelligent girl of eighteen years, who was opening -great eyes at the wonders of this new world, and who had specially -besought the privilege of a peep into the wilderness, now that the -frontier was quiet and safe. - -George Mervyn, a captain-lieutenant of the garrison, a youth whom her -father greatly approved,--the grandson of his nearest neighbor at home -in Kent, Sir George Mervyn,--was inclined to pose as a picturesque -incident himself of the frontier, the soldier who had fought its -battles and at last pacified it. Now he suddenly developed unsuspected -linguistic accomplishments. He was tall, blond, and bland, conventional -of address, the model of decorous youth. He seemed quiet, steady, -trustworthy. His was evidently the material of a valuable future. He -rose and joined her at the window. - -“There is no more moon,” he said with a somewhat affected but -gentlemanly drawl. “You must realize that, Miss Howard. This is ‘the -sleeping sun,’ You must not expect to see the moon on the frontier.” - -“Only a stray moonling, now and then,” another subaltern struck in with -a laugh. - -There was something distinctly sub-acid in the quick clear-clipped -tones, and Captain Howard lifted his head with a slightly corrugated -brow. He looked fixedly into his glass as if he discerned dregs of -bitterness lurking therein. He was experiencing a sentiment of surprise -and annoyance that had earlier harassed him, to be dismissed as absurd; -but now, recurring, it seemed to have gathered force. These two young -men were friends of the Damon-and-Pythias type. Their one-ness of heart -and unanimity of thought had been of infinite service to him in the -many difficult details of his command at Fort Prince George,--a flimsy -earth-work with a block-house or two, garrisoned by a mere handful of -troops, in a remote wilderness surrounded by a strong and savage foe. -These officers had been zealous to smooth each other’s way; they had -vied to undertake onerous duties, to encounter danger, to palliate -short-comings. They were always companions when off duty; they hunted -and fished together; they were on terms of intimate confidence, even -privileged to read each other’s letters. They were sworn comrades, and -yet to-day (Captain Howard did not know how to account for it--he was -growing old, surely) neither had addressed a kindly word to the other; -nay, Ensign Raymond was sharply and apparently intentionally sarcastic. - -Captain Howard wondered that Arabella did not notice it, but there she -stood by the window, the curtain in her hand, the light of the great -flaring fire on the hair, a little paler than gold, which she had -inherited from her Scotch mother, and the large, sincere, hazel English -eyes which were like Captain Howard’s own. The delicate rose tint of -her cheek did not even fluctuate; she looked calmly at the young men -as they glared furiously at each other. But for her presence Captain -Howard would have ordered them to their respective quarters to avoid a -collision. Fort Prince George was not usually the scene of internecine -strife. He resented the suggestion as an indignity to himself. It -impaired the flavor of the dinner he had enjoyed, and jeopardized -digestion. It was a disrespect to the formality with which he had -complimented the occasion of his daughter’s arrival, inviting his old -neighbor’s grandson, with his especial friend, and wearing his powdered -wig, his punctilious dress uniform, pumps, and silk hose. It had been -long since his table was graced by a woman arrayed ceremoniously for -dinner, and the sight of his daughter in her rose-hued tabby gown, with -shining arms and shoulders and a string of pearls around her throat, -was a pleasant reminder to him, in this bleak exile, of the customs -of old times, soon to be renewed, the more appreciated for compulsory -disuse. Captain Howard, watching the group as the young men glowered at -each other, was amazed to think that she looked as if she enjoyed it, -the image of demure placidity. - -“The Cherokees call the moon _Neusse anantoge_, ‘the sleeping sun,’” -said the captain-lieutenant, making no rejoinder to Raymond. - -“La! How well you speak their language, Mr. Mervyn, to be sure. Oh-h, -how musical! As lovely as Italian! Oh-h-h--how I wish I could learn -it before I go back to England! Sure, ’twould be monstrous genteel to -know Cherokee in London. _Neusse anantoge._ I’ll remember that. ‘The -sleeping sun.’ I’ll say that again. _Neusse anantoge. Neusse anantoge._” - -“_Neusse anantoge!_” cried Raymond, with a fleering laugh. “Gad, -Mervyn, you _are_ moon-struck.” - -His bright dark eyes were angry, although laughing. They seemed to -hold a light like coals of fire, sometimes all a-smoulder, and again -vivid with caloric or choler. With his florid complexion and dark hair -and eyes the powder had a decorative emphasis which the appearance of -neither of the other men attained. The lace cravat about his throat -was of fine texture and delicately adjusted, but it was frayed along -the edge in more than one place and the lapels of his red coat hardly -concealed this. Woman-like she was quick to discern the insignia of -genteel poverty, and she pitied him with a sympathy which she would not -have felt for a rent of the skin or a broken bone. These were but the -natural incidents of a soldier’s life; blows and bruises must needs be -cogeners. She divined that his education and his commission were all -of value at his command,--the younger son of a good family, but poor -and proud,--and it was hard to live in a world of lace and powder on so -slender an endowment. She began to hate the precise and priggish George -Mervyn who roused him so, although the provocation came from Raymond, -and she was already wondering at her father that this dashing man, who -had a thousand appeals to a poetic imagination, stood no higher in -favor. She did not realize that a long command at Fort Prince George -was no promoter of a poetic imagination. - -As Raymond spoke Miss Howard turned eagerly toward him, the dark red -curtain still in her hand, showing a section of the bleak, moonlit, -wintry scene in the distance, and in the foreground the stockaded -ramparts, the guard-house, its open door emitting an orange-tinted -flare of fire, the blue-and-black shadows lurking about the -block-house and the hard-trodden snow of the deserted parade. - -“What do _you_ say it should be, then?” she demanded peremptorily, as -if she were determined not to be brought to confusion by venturing -incorrect Cherokee in London,--as if there a slip of the tongue would -be easily detected! - -“How much Cherokee does _he_ know?” interposed Mervyn, satirically. “We -keep an interpreter in constant employ,--expressly for him.” - -Raymond was spurred on to assert himself. - -“_Neusse anantoge!_” he jeered. “Then what do you make of -_Nu-da-su-na-ye-hi_? That is ‘the sun sleeping in the night.’ And see -here, _Nu-da-ige-hi_. That is ‘the sun living in the day.’” - -“_That?_--why, that is the Lower town dialect.” - -“Oh, the Lower town dialect!” Raymond, in derision, whirled about on -the heels of his pumps, for he too was displaying all the glory of silk -hose. “The Lower town dialect,--save the mark! It is Overhill Cherokee.” - -“Oh,--oh,--are there _two_ dialects of the Cherokee language?” cried -Arabella. “How wonderful! And of the different towns! Oh-h--which _are_ -the lower towns? and oh,--Mr. Raymond, how prodigiously clever to know -both the dialects!” - -Captain Howard lifted his head with a brusque challenge in his eye. -He tolerated none but national quarrels. He did not understand the -interests in conflict. But he thought to end them summarily. The words -“moonling,” “moon-struck,” and the tone of the whole conversation were -not conducive to the conservation of the peace. Raymond had conducted -himself in a very surly and nettling manner all through the day toward -his quondam friend, who, so far as Captain Howard could see, had given -him no cause of offence. - -He was obviously about to strike into the conversation, and all three -faces turned toward him, alert, expectant. The suave inscrutable -countenance of the young lady merely intimated attention, but it was -difficult for the two young men to doff readily their half scoffing -expressions of anger and defiance and assume the facial indicia of -respect and deference and bland subservience due to their host, their -senior, and their superior officer. - -His sister, however, quickly forestalled his acrid comments. Mrs. -Annandale ostensibly played the part of duenna to her niece and of -acquiescent chorus to her brother’s dictatorial opinions. But in -her secret heart she controverted his every prelection, and she -countermarched his intentions with an unsuspected skill that was the -very climax of strategy, for she brought him to the conviction that -they were his own plans she had furthered and his own orders she had -executed. Her outer aspect aided her designs--it was marvellously -incongruous with the character of tactician. She had a scanty little -visage, pale and wrinkled, with small pursed-up lips, closely drawn in -meek assent, and small bright eyes that twinkled timorously out from -gray lashes. A modish head-dress surmounted and concealed her thin -gray locks, and an elaborately embroidered kerchief, crossed over the -bosom of her puce-colored satin gown, conforming in the décolleté cut -to the universal fashion of the day, hid the bones of her wasted little -figure. She was very prim, and mild, and upright, as she sat in the -primitive arm-chair, wrought by the post-carpenter and covered with a -buffalo-skin. In a word she turned the trend of the discourse. - -“M--m--m,” she hesitated. “Sure, ’twould seem one dialect might express -all the ideas of the Indians--they have a monstrous talent for silence.” - -She looked directly at Raymond from out her weak, blinking little eyes. - -“They talk more among themselves, madam, and when at home,” responded -Raymond, turning away from the young people at the window, and leaning -against the high mantel-piece, one hand on the shelf as he stood on the -opposite side of the fire from Mrs. Annandale. “They are ill at ease -here at the fort,--the presence of the soldiers abashes and depresses -them; they are much embittered by their late defeat.” - -Mrs. Annandale shuddered. She was afraid of wind and lightning; of -waters and ghosts; of signs and omens; of savages and mice; of the dark -and of the woods; of gun-powder and a sword-blade. - -“And are you not frightened of them, Mr. Raymond?” she quavered. - -He stared in amazement, and Captain Howard, restored to good temper, -cocked up his eyes humorously at the young soldier. The vivid red -and white of Raymond’s complexion, his powdered side-curls, and his -bold, bright hazel eyes, were heightened by the delicacy of his lace -cravat, and his red uniform was brought out in fine effect by the -flaring light of the deep chimney-place, but Mrs. Annandale’s heart -was obdurate to all such appeals, even vicariously. A side glance -had shown her that the young people at the window had drawn closer -together and a low-toned and earnest conversation was in progress -there,--the captain-lieutenant was talking fast and eagerly, while -the girl, holding the curtain, looked out at the dreary wintry aspect -of the sheeted wilderness, the frontier fort, and the “sleeping sun” -resting softly in the pale azure sky, high, high above the Great Smoky -Mountains. The duenna pressed her lips together in serene satisfaction. - -“M--m--m. I should imagine you would be so frightened of the Indians, -Mr. Raymond,” she said. - -“Ha--ha--ha--!” laughed Captain Howard, outright. - -Mrs. Annandale claimed no sense of humor, but she was a very efficient -mirth-maker, nevertheless. - -“I am beholden to you, madam,” said the young soldier, out of -countenance. He could not vaunt his courage in the presence of his -commander, nor would he admit fear even in fun. He was at a loss for a -moment. - -“It is contrary to the rules of the service to be afraid of the -Indians,” he said after a pause; “Captain Howard does not permit it.” - -“Oh,--but how can anyone help it!--and they are so monstrous ugly!” - -“They are considered very fine men, physically,” said Raymond. - -“But they will never make soldiers,” interpolated Captain Howard. The -English government had done its utmost with the American Indians, as -with other subdued peoples of its dependencies, both earlier and later, -to incorporate their martial strength into the British armies, but the -aborigines seemed incapable of being moulded by the discipline of the -drill and the regulations of the camp, and deserted as readily as they -were enlisted, rewards and penalties alike of no effect. - -“Oh, Mr. Raymond, no one could think them handsome!--they are--greasy!” - -“The grease is to afford a surface for their paint, you must -understand. But it is a horribly unclean and savage custom.” - -He never could account for a shade of offence on the lady’s -expressionless, limited face and a flush other than that of the rouge -on her delicate, little flabby cheek. How should he know that that -embellishment was laid on a gentle coating of pomade after the decrees -of fashion. He was not versed in the methods of cosmetics. He had been -on the frontier for the last three years--since his boyhood, in fact, -and that grace and gentlemanliness which so commended his address were -rather the results of early training and tradition than the influence -of association with cultured circles of society. He knew that he had -said something much amiss and he chafed at the realization. - -“I am fitter for an atmosphere of gun-powder than attar of roses,” he -said to himself with a half glance over his shoulder at the window, -the pale moonlight making the face of the girl poetic, ethereal, and -shimmering on her golden hair. - -The next moment, however, Mrs. Annandale claimed his attention, -annulling the idea that there had been aught displeasing in his remark. - -“But sure, Mr. Raymond, there were never towns, called towns, such as -theirs--la!--what a disappointment, to be sure!” - -“Ha! ha! ha!” exclaimed Captain Howard, mightily amused. “So you -are looking for the like of Bond Street and Charing Cross and the -Strand--eh!--in Estatoe, and Kulsage, and Seneca,--ha! ha! ha!” - -Raymond winced a trifle lest the fragile little lady should find this -soldier-like pleasantry too bluff for a sensitive nature, but she -laughed with a subdued, deprecating suggestion of merriment. He could -not imagine, as she lent herself to this ridicule, that she construed -it as humoring the folly of the commandant, of whom indeed she always -spoke behind his back in a commiserating way as “poor dear Brother.” -She had so often outwitted the tough old soldier that she looked upon -his prowess as a vain thing, his fierce encounters with the national -foe mere figments of war compared with those subtle campaigns in which -she so invariably worsted him. She laughed at herself. She could afford -it. - -“Dear Brother,” she said, “Charlestown is not London, to be sure, -but we found it vastly genteel for its size. There is everything a -person of taste requires for life--on a scale, to be sure--on a minute -scale. But there is a theatre, and a library of books, so learning -is not neglected, and a race-course, and a society of tone. Lord, -sir, strangers, well introduced, have nothing to complain of. I’m -sure Arabella and I were taken about till we could have dropped with -fatigue, Mr. Raymond--what with Whisk and Piquet for me and a minuet -for her, night after night, everywhere we went, we might well have -thought ourselves in London. And Lord, sir, the British officers there -are so content they seem to think they have achieved Paradise.” - -“I’ll warrant ’em,” and Captain Howard wagged his head scoffingly, -meditating on the contrast with his past hardships in the frontier -service. - -“And being mightily charmed with what I had seen of the province I was -struck with a cold chill by the time I’d crossed Ashley Ferry--the -woods half dark by day and a cavern by night; and such howlings of -owls, and lions, and tigers, I presume--” - -“Oh, ho--ho--ho!” exclaimed Captain Howard. “I’ll detail you, Ensign -Raymond, to drill the awkward squad in natural history.” - -Raymond, responsive to the spirit of the jest, stood at attention and -saluted, as if receiving a serious assignment to duty. - -He was not of a wily nature, nor especially suspicious. He had keen -perceptions, however, and his own straightforward candor aided them in -detecting a circuitous divergence from the facts; when Mrs. Annandale -declared herself so terrified that she had begged and prayed her niece -and her brother to turn back, he realized dimly that this was not the -case, that it was by her own free will the party had kept on, and that -Arabella would never have had the cruelty to persist in the undertaking -against her aunt’s desire, nor had she the authority to compass this -decision. But why had the little woman mustered the determination, he -marvelled, for this long and arduous journey. He looked at her with -the sort of doubtful and pitying yet fearful repulsion with which a -scientist might study a new and very eccentric species of insect. He -could realize that she had suffered all the fright and fatigue she -described. Her puny little physique was indeed inadequate to sustain so -severe a strain, bodily and mentally. Her fastidious distaste to the -sight and customs of the Indians was itself a species of pain. Why had -she come? - -“Before we reached Ninety-Six I saw the first of the savages. Oh,--Mr. -Raymond,--it seems a sort of indecency in the government to make war on -people who wear so few clothes. They ought to be allowed to peacefully -retire to the woods.” - -“Oh--ho--ho--ho!--that’s the first time I ever heard the propriety of -the government called in question,” said Captain Howard. He glanced -over his shoulder to make sure that Arabella had not overheard this -jest of doubtful grace. - -“She’s busy,” Mrs. Annandale reassured him with a sort of smirk of -satisfaction, which impressed Raymond singularly unpleasantly. He too -glanced over his shoulder. The tall, fair, graceful young officer could -hardly appear to greater advantage than Mervyn did at this moment, in -the blended light of the fire and the moon, for the candles on the -table scarcely sent their beams so far. The rich dress of the girl -was accented and embellished by the simplicity of the surroundings. -Her head was turned aside--only the straight and perfect lines of her -profile showed against the lustrous square of the window. She still -held the curtain and, while he talked, she silently listened and gazed -dreamily at the moon. There was a moment of embarrassment in the group -at the fireside, as they relinquished their covert scrutiny, and -Raymond’s ready tact sought the rescue of the situation. - -“It has been urged that we armed the Indians against ourselves through -the trade in peace,” he suggested. - -“And now Mrs. Annandale thinks they ought to be put in the pink of the -fashion before being shot at--ha--ha--ha!” returned Captain Howard. - -“Then their towns,--a-lack-a-day,--to call them towns! A cluster -of huts and wigwams, and a mound, and a rotunda, and a play-yard. -They frightened me into fits with their proffers of hospitality. The -women--dressed in some vastly fine furs and with their hair plaited -with feathers--came up to our horses and offered us bread and fruit; -oh, and a kind of boiled meal and water; and Arabella partook and said -it was nice and clean but I pressed my hands to my stomach and rolled -up my eyes to intimate that I was ill; and indeed I was at the very -sight of them,” Mrs. Annandale protested. - -Once more she glanced over her shoulder, thinking her niece might -hear her name; again that smirk of satisfaction to note the mutual -absorption of the two, then, lest the pause seem an interruption, she -went on: - -“And have these wretches two sets of such towns? lower and -upper--filthy abominations!” - -“No, no, Claudia,” said the captain, shaking his head, “they are clean, -they are clean--clean as floods of pure water can make them. Every town -is on a rock-bound water-course, finest, freshest, freest streams in -the world, and every Indian, big and little, goes under as a religious -duty every day. No, they are clean.” - -“Dear heart!” exclaimed the lady, without either contention or -acquiescence. - -“And they wear ample clothes, too. The buck-skin hunting-shirt and -leggings of our frontiersmen are copied from the attire of the Indians. -If you saw savages who were scantily clothed they must have been very -poor, or on the war-path against other Indians--for they wear clothes, -as they construe them, on ordinary occasions.” - -“How nice of them,” commented Mrs. Annandale. “Shows their goodness of -heart.” - -Once more Raymond bent the gaze of an inquiring scrutiny upon the -lady--simple as she was, he had not yet classified her. She had begun -to exert a sort of morbid fascination upon him. He did not understand -her, and the enigma held him relentlessly. - -He had not observed a motion which Arabella had made once or twice to -quit the _tête-à-tête_ beside the window, and he was taken by surprise -when she suddenly approached the fire. Standing, tall and slender and -smiling, between him and her father, with her hand on the commandant’s -chair, she addressed the coterie at large:-- - -“What a jovial time you seem to be having!” - -Raymond’s heart plunged, and Mervyn reddened slightly with an annoyance -otherwise sedulously repressed. She spoke with a naïve suggestion as of -an enforced exclusion from the fun. “What is all this talk about?” - -“Mr. Raymond has been admiring the Indians’ taste in dress,” said Mrs. -Annandale, titteringly,--“he says they wear the hides of beasts,--their -own hides.” - -Captain Howard frowned. It did not enter into his scheme of things to -question the discretion of a professed duenna. He was confused for a -moment, and it seemed to him that the fault lay in Raymond’s bad taste -in the remark rather than in its repetition. It did not occur to him -that it was made for the first time. - -Raymond, realizing that for some reason Mrs. Annandale sought to place -him at a disadvantage, was on the point of gasping out a denial, but -the gaucherie of contradicting a lady, and she the sister of his host, -deterred him. - -Though the young girl was convent-bred with great seclusion and care, -she had emerged into an atmosphere of such sophistication that she was -able to seem to have apprehended naught amiss. She bent her eyes with -quiet attention on her aunt’s face when Mrs. Annandale said abruptly:-- - -“Tell George Mervyn how oddly those gypsies were dressed--gypsies, or -Hindoos, or whatever they were--that camped down on the edge of the -copse close to his grandfather’s park gates last fall, and told your -fortune!” - -“Was it on our side of the ha-ha, or your side?” asked Mervyn, eagerly. -For as Raymond understood the property of the two families adjoined, -large and manorial possessions on the part of the Mervyns, and with -their neighbors a very modest holding--a good old house but with little -land. - -“Oh, to think of the copse!” cried Mervyn with a gush of homesick -feeling,--“to think of the beck! I could almost die to be a boy again -for one hour, bird-nesting there once more!” - -“Even if I made you put the eggs back?” Arabella smiled. - -“Though they would never hatch after being touched,” he corroborated. - -“But tell the story, Arabella. Tell what the gypsy said,” urged Mrs. -Annandale, significantly. - -The young lady still stood, her hand resting on her father’s chair. She -looked down into the fire with inscrutable hazel eyes. Her face seemed -to glow and pale, as the flames flared and fell and sent pulsations of -shoaling light along the glistening waves of her pink tabby gown. - -“I don’t care what the gypsy said,” she returned. - -“But you cared then--enough to cross her hand with silver!” cried -Mrs. Annandale. “And, George, your grandfather, Sir George, came -riding by--I think that gray cob is a rather free goer for the old -gentleman--and he reined up by the hedge and looked over. And he said, -‘Make it gold, young lady, if you want it rich and true. Buy your -luck--that’s the way to get it!’” - -Captain Howard stirred uneasily. “Sir George is right--the gypsy hussy -is bought; she gives a shilling fortune for a shilling and a crown of -luck for a crown. I have no faith in the practice.” - -“You will when you hear this, dear Brother. Tell what the gypsy said, -Arabella!” Mrs. Annandale leaned forward with her small mouth tightly -closed and her small eyes twinkling with expectation. - -“Oh, I have clean forgot,” declared Arabella, her eyes still on the -coals and standing in the rich illumination of the flare. - -“I have not forgot. I heard every word!” exclaimed the wily tactician. - -Now Arabella lifted her long dark lashes, and it seemed to Raymond -that she sent a glance of pleading expostulation, of sensitive appeal -to meet the microscopic glitter in the pinched and wizened pale face. -Mervyn waited in a quiver of expectation, of suspense; and Raymond, -wounded, excluded, set at naught, as he had felt, was sensible of a -quickening of his pulses. But why did the old woman persist? - -“There is nothing in such prophecies,” said Captain Howard, uneasily. - -“She said you had a lover over seas,--didn’t she, my own?” - -The girl, looking again at the red fire, nodded her golden head -casually, as if in renewing memory. - -“One who loved you, and whom you loved!” - -Mervyn caught his breath. The blood had flared into his face. He held -himself tense and erect by a sheer effort of will, but any moment he -might collapse into a nervous tremor. - -“She said--oh, she said--” exclaimed Mrs. Annandale, prolonging the -suspense of the moment and clasping her mittened hands about her knees, -leaning forward and looking into the fire, “she said he was handsome, -and tall, and blond. And you--you didn’t know in the least who he -was; though you gave her another crown from pure good will!” And Mrs. -Annandale tittered teasingly and archly, as she glanced at Mervyn. - -“Oh, yes, I did know who he was,”--the girl electrified the circle by -declaring. “That is why I gave her more money.” - -Her eyes were wide and bright. She tossed her head with a knowing air. -Her cheeks were scarlet, and the breath came fast over her parted red -lips. - -Mrs. Annandale sat in motionless consternation. She had lost the helm -of the conversation and it seemed driving at random through a turmoil -of chopping chances. Mervyn looked hardly less frightened,--as if he -might faint,--for he felt that his name was trembling on Arabella’s -lips. It was like the chaos of some wild unexplained dream when she -suddenly resumed:-- - -“The gypsy meant Monsieur Delorme, my drawing-master at Dijon--all the -pupils were in love with him--I, more than all--handsome and adorable!” - -Raymond’s eyes suddenly met Mervyn’s stony stare of amazement. He did -not laugh, but that gay, bantering, comprehending look of joyful relish -had as nettling a sting as a roar of bravos. - -Captain Howard was but just rescued from a dilemma that had bidden fair -to whelm all his faculties, but his disgust recovered him. - -“Oh, fie!”--he said rancorously. “The drawing-master! Fudge!” - -Mrs. Annandale had the rare merit of knowing when she was defeated. She -had caused her brother to invite Raymond merely that the invitation -to Mervyn might not seem too particular. But having this point secure -she had given him not one thought and not a word save to engage his -attention and permit Mervyn’s _tête-à-tête_ with her niece. Since -her little scheme of bantering the two lovers, as she desired to -consider them, or rather to have them consider each other, had gone -so much awry, she addressed herself to obliterate the impression it -had made. She now sought to ply Raymond with her fascinations, and -with such effect that Mervyn, who had been occupied with plans to -get himself away so that he might consider in quiet the meaning of -her demonstration and the girl’s unexpected rejoinder, was amazed -and dismayed. Mrs. Annandale was of stancher stuff than he thought, -and though afterward she much condemned the result of her inquiries -touching family relations and mutual acquaintance in England, this -seemed to be the only live topic between a young man and an elderly -woman such as she, specially shaken as she had been by the downfall -of all her plans in the manipulation of the treacherous Arabella. She -had not, indeed, intended to elicit the fact that Raymond was nearly -connected with some of the best people in the kingdom, that his family -was so old and of so high a repute that a modern baronetcy was really -a thing of tinsel and mean pretence in comparison. Among them there -was no wealth of note, but deeds of distinction decorated almost -every branch of the family tree. When at last she could bear no more -and rose, admonishing her niece to accompany her, terminating the -entertainment, as being themselves guests, Arabella, sitting listening -by the side of the fire, thrown back in the depths of the arm-chair -among the furs that covered it, exclaimed naively: “What! So early!” - - - - -CHAPTER II - - -When Mrs. Annandale and her niece repaired to the quarters assigned -them, the young lady passed through the room of the elder to the inner -apartment, as if she feared that her contumacy might be upbraided. -But if Mrs. Annandale felt her armor a burden and was a-wearied with -the untoward result of the evening’s campaign she made no sign, but -gallantly persevered, realizing the truism that more skill is requisite -in conducting a retreat than in leading the most spirited assault. She -followed her niece and seated herself by the fire while Arabella at the -dressing-table let down her mass of golden hair and began to ply the -brush, looking meanwhile at a very disaffected face in the mirror. The -youthful maid who officiated for both ladies, monopolized chiefly by -Mrs. Annandale, was busied with some duties touching a warming-pan in -the outer room, and thus the opportunity for confidential conversation -was ample. - -“These soldiers talk so much about their hard case,” said the elder -lady, looking about her with an appraising eye. “Many folks at home -might call this luxury.” - -For Captain Howard had exerted his capacity and knowledge to the utmost -to compass comfort for his sister and daughter, with the result that -he was held to complain without a grievance. A great fire roared in -a deep chimney-place--there were no andirons, it is true, but two -large dornicks served as well. The log walls were white-washed and -glittered with a vaunt of cleanliness. The bed-curtains were pink, and -fluttered in a draught from the fire. Rose-tinted curtains veiled the -meagre sashes of the glazed windows. The chairs, of the clumsy post -manufacture, were big and covered with dressed furs. Buffalo rugs lay -before the wide hearth and on the floor. A candle flickered unneeded on -the white-draped dressing-table, and there was the glitter of silver -and glass and of such _bijouterie_ as dressing-case and jewel-box could -send forth. The young girl, now in a pink _robe de chambre_, seemed in -accord with the rude harmony of the place. - -“They line their nests right well, these tough soldiers,” said the -elder woman. “If it were not for the Indians, and the marching, and the -guns, and the noisy powder, and the wild-cats, and the wilderness, one -might marry a soldier with a fair prospect. George Mervyn is a handsome -young man, Bella.” - -“He looks like a sheep,” said Arabella, petulantly. “That long, thin, -mild face of his, pale as the powder on his hair, without a spark of -spirit, and those stiff side-curls on each side of his head, exactly -like a ram’s horns! He looks like a sheep, and he _is_ a sheep.” - -With all her unrevealed and secret purposes it was difficult to hold -both temper and patience after the strain of the mishaps of the -evening. But Mrs. Annandale merely yawned and replied, “I think he is a -handsome young man, and much like Sir George.” - -“Ba-a-a!--Ba-a-a!”--said the dutiful niece. - -The weary little woman still held stanchly on. “I believe you’d rather -marry the grandfather.” - -“I would--but I don’t choose to marry either.” - -Mrs. Annandale had a sudden inspiration. “No, my poor love,” she said -with a downward inflection, “a girl like you, with beauty, and brains, -and good birth, and fine breeding,--but no money, too often doesn’t -_choose_ to marry anybody, for anybody that _is_ anybody doesn’t want -her.” - -There was dead silence in front of the mirror. A troublous shade -settled on the fair face reflected therein. The brush was motionless. -An obvious dismay was expressed in the pause. Self-pity is a poignant -pain. - -“Lord! Lord!--how unevenly the good things of this world are divided,” -sighed the philosopher. “The daughter of a poor soldier, and it makes -no difference how lovely, how accomplished!--while if you were the -bride of Sir George Mervyn’s grandson--bless me, girl, your charms -would be on every tongue. You’d be the toast of all England!” - -There was a momentary silence while the light flashed from the lengths -of golden hair as the brush went back and forth with strong, quick -strokes. The head, intently poised, betokened a sedulous attention. - -“Out upon the injustice of it!” cried Mrs. Annandale, with unaffected -fervor. “To be beautiful, and well-bred, and well-born, and -well-taught, and faultless, and capable of gracing the very highest -station in the land, and to be driven by poverty to take a poor, -meagre, contemned portion in life, simply and solely because those whom -you are fit for, and who are fit for you, will not condescend to think -of you.” - -“I am not so sure of that!” cried Arabella, suddenly, with a tense note -of elation. The mirror showed the vivid flush rising in her cheeks, the -spirit in her eyes, the pride in the pose of her head. “And, Aunt, mark -you now,--no man can _condescend_ to me!” - -“Lord! you poor child, how little you know of the ways of the world. -But they were not in the convent course, I warrant you. Wealth marries -wealth. Station climbs to higher station. Gallantry, admiration, all -that is very well in a way, to pass the time. But men’s wounded hearts -are easily patched with title-deeds and long rent-rolls. Don’t let your -pride make you think that your bright eyes can shine like the Golightly -diamonds. Bless my soul, Miss Eva had them all on at the county ball -last year. Ha! ha! ha! I remember Sir George Mervyn said she looked a -walking pawn-shop,--they were so prodigiously various. You know the -Mervyns always showed very chaste taste in the matter of jewellery--the -family jewels are few, but monstrous fine; every stone is a small -fortune. But he was vastly polite to her at supper. I thought I would -warn you, sweet, don’t bother to be civil to young George, for old Sir -George is determined on that match. Though the money was made in trade -’twas a long time ago, and there’s a mort of it. The girl has a dashing -way with her, too, and sets up for a beauty when _you_ are out of the -county.” - -“Lord, ma’am, Eva Golightly?” questioned Arabella, in scornful amaze. - -“Sure, she has fine dark eyes, and she can make them flash and play -equal to the diamonds in her hair. Maybe I’m as dazzled as the -men, but she fairly looked like a princess to me. Heigho! has that -besom ever finished fixing my bed? Good night--good night--my poor -precious--and--say your prayers, child, say your prayers!” - -The face in the mirror--the brush was still again--showed a depression -of spirit, but the set teeth and an intimation of determination -squared its delicate chin till Arabella looked like Captain Howard in -the moment of ordering a desperate assault on the enemy’s position. -There was, nevertheless, a sort of flinching, as of a wound received, -sensitive in a thousand keen appreciations of pain. The word -“condescend” had opened her eyes to new interpretations of life. Her -father might realize that a captain, however valorous, did not outrank -a major-general, but in the splendor of her young beauty, and cultured -intelligence, and indomitable spirit, she had felt a regal preëminence, -and the world accorded her homage. That it was a mere _façon de parler_ -had never before occurred to her--a sort of cheap indulgence to a -pretension without solid foundation. Her pride was cut to the quick. -She was considered, forsooth, very pretty, and vastly accomplished, -and almost learned with her linguistic acquirements and the mastery of -heavy tomes of dull convent lore, yet of no sort of account because -her people were not rich and she had no dowry, and unless she should -be smitten by some stroke of good fortune, as uncontrollable as a bolt -of lightning, she was destined to mate with some starveling curate or -led captain, when as so humbly placed a dame she would lack the welcome -in the circles that had once flattered her beauty and her transient -belleship. The candle on the dressing-table was guttering in its -socket when its fitful flaring roused her to contemplate the pallid -reflection, all out of countenance, the fire dwindling to embers, and -the shadows that had crept into the retired spaces of the bed, between -the rose-tinted curtains, with a simulacrum of dull thoughts for the -pillow and dreary dreams. - -The interval had not passed so quietly within the precincts of Mrs. -Annandale’s chamber. The connecting door was closed, and Arabella did -not notice the clamor, as the maid was constrained to try the latches -of the outer door and adjust and readjust the bars, and finally to push -by main force and a tremendous clatter one of the great chairs against -it, lest some discerning and fastidious marauder should select out -of all Fort Prince George, Mrs. Annandale’s precious personality to -capture, or “captivate,” to use the incongruous and archaic phrase of -the day. Now that the outer door was barricaded beyond all possibility -of being carried by storm or of surreptitious entrance, Mrs. Annandale -was beset with anxiety as to egress on an emergency. - -“But look, you hussy,” she exclaimed, as she stood holding the candle -aloft to light the tusslings and tuggings of the maid with the -furniture and the bar, “suppose the place should take fire. How am I to -get out! You have shut me in here to perish like a rat in a trap, you -heartless jade!” - -“Oh, sure, mem, the fort will never take fire--the captain is that -careful--the foine man he is!” said the girl, turning up her fresh, -rosy, Irish face. - -“I know the ‘foine man’ better than you do,” snapped her mistress. The -victory of the evening had been so long deferred, so hardly won at -last, that the conqueror was in little better case than the defeated; -she was fit to fall with fatigue, and her patience was in tatters. -The War Office intrusted Captain Howard with the lives of its stanch -soldiers and the value of many pounds sterling in munitions of war. But -his sister belittled the enemy she had so often worsted, and who never -even knew that he was beaten. “And those zanies of soldiers--smoking -their vile tobacco like Indians!” - -“Lord, mem,” said the girl, still on her knees, vigorously chunking and -jobbing at the door, “the sojers are in barracks, in bed and asleep -these three hours agone.” - -“Look at that guard-house, flaring like the gates of hell! What do -you mean by lying, girl!” Mrs. Annandale glanced out of the white -curtained window, showing a spark of light in the darkness. - -“Sure, ma’am, it’s the watch they be kapin’ so kindly all night, like -the stars, or the blissed saints in heaven!” - -“Mightily like the ‘blissed saints in heaven,’ I’ll wager,” said the -old lady, sourly. - -“I was fair afeard o’ Injuns and wild-cats till I seen the gyard turn -out, mem,” said the maid, relishing a bit of gossip. - -Mrs. Annandale gave a sudden little yowl, not unlike a feline utterance. - -“You Jezebel,” she cried in wrath, “what did you remind me of -them for--look behind the curtains--under the valance of the -bed--yow!--there is no telling who is hid there--robbers, murderers!” - -Norah, young, plump, neat, and docile to the last degree, sprang up -from her knees and rushed at these white dimity fabrics, tossing -their fringed edges, with a speed and spirit that might have implied -a courage equal to the encounter with concealed braves or beasts. But -too often had she had this experience, finding nothing to warrant a -fear. It was a mere form of search in her estimation, and her ardor -was assumed to give her mistress assurance of her efficiency and -protection. Therefore, when on her knees by the bedside she sprang back -with a sudden cry of genuine alarm, her unexpected terror out-mastered -her, and she fled whimpering to the other side of the room behind the -little lady, who, dropping the candle in amazement and a convulsive -tremor, might have achieved the conflagration she had prefigured -without the aid of the zanies of the barracks, but that the flame -failed in falling. - -“Boots!--Boots!--” cried the girl, her teeth chattering. - -Mrs. Annandale’s courage seemed destined to unnumbered strains. It -was not her will to exert it. She preferred panic as her prerogative. -She glanced at the door, barred by her own precautions against all -possibility of a speedy summons for help. Even to hail the guard-house -through the window was futile at the distance; to escape by way of the -casement was impossible, the rooms being situated in the second story -of the large square building; a moment of listening told her that her -niece was all unaware of the crisis, asleep, perhaps, silent, still. -There was nothing for it but her own prowess. - -“I have a blunderbuss here, man,” she said, seizing the curling-iron -from her dressing-table and marking with satisfaction the long and -formidable shadow it cast in the firelight on the white wall. “Bring -those boots out or I’ll shoot them off you!” - -There was dead silence. She heard the fire crackle, the ash stir, even, -she fancied, the tread of a sentry in the tower above the gate. - -“It’s a Injun--a Injun--he don’t understand the spache, mem!” said -Norah, wondering that the unknown had the temerity to disregard this -august summons. - -“Norah,” said Mrs. Annandale, autocratically, and as she flourished -the curling-tongs Norah cowered and winced as from a veritable -blunderbuss, so did the little lady dominate by her asseverations the -mind of her dependent--and indeed stancher mental endowments than poor -little Norah’s--“fetch me out those boots.” - -“Oh, mem--what am I to do with the man that’s in ’em?” quavered the -Abigail, dolorously. - -“Fetch him, too, if he’s there. Give him a tug, I say, girl.” - -The doubt that this mandate expressed, nerved the timorous maid to -approach the silent white-draped bed. That she had nevertheless -expected both resistance and weight was manifest in the degree of -strength she exerted. She fell back, overthrown by the sheer force of -the recoil, with a large empty boot in her hand, nor would she believe -that the miscreant had not craftily slipped off the footgear till the -other came as empty, and a timorous peep ascertained that there were no -feet to match within view. - -“Some officer’s boots!” soliloquized Mrs. Annandale. “He must have left -them here when he was turned out of these snug quarters to make room -for us. I wonder when that floor was swept.” - -“Sure, mem, they’re not dusty,” said Norah, all blithe and rosy once -more. “I’m rej’iced that he wasn’t in ’em.” - -“Who--the officer?” with a withering stare. - -“No’m, the Injun I was looking for”--with a quaver. - -“Or the wild-cat you was talking about! Nasty things! Never mention -them again.” - -Mrs. Annandale was a good deal shaken by the experience and tottered -slightly as she paused at the dressing-table and laid down the -curling-tongs that had masqueraded as a blunderbuss. The maid, all -smiling alacrity to make amends, bustled cheerily about in the -preparations for the retirement of her employer. “Sure, mem, yez would -love to see ’em dead.” - -“You’ve got a tongue now, but some day it will be cut out,” the old -woman remarked, acridly. - -“I’m maning to say, mem, they have the beautifulest fur--them -wild-cats, not the Injuns. There’s a robe or blanket av ’em in the -orderly room--beautiful, mem, sure, like the cats may have in heaven.” - -As Mrs. Annandale sat in her great chair she seemed to be falling to -pieces, so much of her identity came off as her hand-maiden removed -her effects. She was severally divested of her embroidered cape, the -full folds of her puce-colored satin gown, her slippers and clocked -stockings; and when at last in her night-rail and white night-cap, she -looked like a curious antique infant, with a malignant and coercive -stare. Norah handled her with a fearful tenderness, as if she might -break in two, such a wisp of a woman she was! Little like a conquering -hero she seemed as she sat there before the fire, now girding at the -offices of her attendant, now whimpering weakly, like a spoiled child, -her white-capped head nodding and her white-clad figure fairly lost -in the great chair, but she was the most puissant force that had -ever invested Fort Prince George, though it had sustained both French -military strategy and Indian savage wiles. And the days to come were -to bear testimony to her courage, her address, and her dominant rage -for power. When her little fateful presence was eclipsed at last by the -ample white bed-curtains and Norah was free to draw forth her pallet -and lay herself down on the floor before the fire, the girl could not -refrain a long-drawn sigh, half of fatigue and half self-commiseration. -It seemed a hard lot with her exacting and freakish employer. But the -cold bitter wind came surging around the corner of the house, and she -remembered the bleak morasses across the wild Atlantic, the little -smoky hovel she called home, the many to fend from frost and famine, -the close and crowded quarters, the straw bed where she had lain, -neighboring the pig. She thought of her august room-mate in comparison. - -“But faix!--how much perliter was the crayther to be sure!” - - - - -CHAPTER III - - -It was one of the peculiarities of the officers of the Fort Prince -George garrison that they were subject to fits of invisibility, Mrs. -Annandale declared. She had been taciturn, even inattentive, over her -dish of chocolate at early breakfast. More than once she turned, with -a frostily fascinating smile, beamingly expectant, as the door opened. -But when the dishes were removed, and the breakfast-room resumed its -aspect as parlor, and her niece sat down to her embroidery-frame as if -she had been at home in a country house in Kent, and the captain rose -and began to get into his outdoor gear, Mrs. Annandale’s sugared and -expectant pose gave way to blunt disappointment. - -“Where are those villains we wasted our good cheer upon overnight?” she -brusquely demanded. “I vow I expected to find them bowing their morning -compliments on the door-step!” - -“You must make allowances for our rude frontier soldiers,”--the -commandant began. - -“Were they caught up into the sky or swallowed up by the earth?” - -The commandant explained that the tours of service recurred with -unwelcome frequency in a garrison so scantily officered as Fort Prince -George, and that Mervyn and Raymond were both on duty. - -“You should have excused them, dear Brother, since they are our -acquaintances, and let some of those rowdy fellows in the mess-hall -march, or goose-step, or deploy, or what not, in their stead.” - -“Shoot me--no--no!” said the commandant, wagging his head, for this -touched his official conscience, and the citadel in which it was -ensconced not even this wily strategist could reach. “No, no, each -man performs his own duty as it falls to him. I would not exchange or -permit an exchange to--to, no, not to be quit forever of Fort Prince -George.” - -“Poor Arabella--she looks pale.” - -“For neither of them,” the niece spoke up, tartly. - -“Now that’s hearty,” said her father, approvingly. - -“I shall be glad to be quiet a bit, and rest from the journey,” -Arabella declared. “I don’t need to be amused to-day.” - -“Lord--Lord! I pray I may survive it,” her aunt plained. - -Mrs. Annandale was so definitely disconsolate and indignant that the -captain held a parley. Lieutenant Bolt, the fort-adjutant, was a man of -good station, he said, and also a younger lieutenant and two ensigns; -should he not bespeak their company for a game of Quadrille in his -quarters this evening? - -Truly “dear Brother” was too tediously dense. “A murrain on them all!” -she exclaimed angrily. “What are they in comparison with young Mervyn?” - -“As good men every way. Trained, tried, valuable officers--worth their -weight in gold,” he retorted, aglow with _esprit de corps_. - -She caught herself up sharply, fearing that she was too outspoken; and, -realizing that “dear Brother” was an uncontrollable roadster when once -he took the bit between his teeth, she qualified hastily. “An old woman -loves gossip, Brother. What are these strangers to me? George Mervyn -and I will put our heads together and canvass every scandal in the -county for the last five years. Lord, he knows every stock and stone -of the whole country-side, and all the folks, gentle and simple, from -castle to cottage. I looked for some clavers such as old neighbors -love.” - -“Plenty of time--plenty of time,”--said the commandant. “George Mervyn -will last till to-morrow morning.” - -“To-morrow--is he in your clutches till to-morrow morning?” the schemer -shrieked in dismay. - -“He is officer of the day, Claudia, and his tour of duty began -at guard-mounting this morning, and will not be concluded till -guard-mounting to-morrow morning,” the captain said severely. Then in -self-justification, for he was a lenient man, except in his official -capacity, he added gravely: “You must reflect, Sister, that though -we are a small force in a little mud fort on the far frontier, we -cannot afford to be triflers at soldiering. A better fort than ours -was compelled to surrender and a better garrison was massacred not one -hundred and fifty miles from here. Our duties are insistent and our -mutual responsibility is great. We are intrusted with the lives of each -other.” - -He desired these words to be of a permanent and serious impression. He -said no more and went out, leaving Mrs. Annandale fallen back in her -chair, holding up her hands to heaven as a testimony against him. - -“Oh, the ruffian!” she gasped. “Oh--to remind me of the Indians--the -greasy, gawky red-sticks! Oh, the blood-thirsty, truculent brother!” - -Arabella was of a pensive pose, with her head bent to her -embroidery-frame, her trailing garment, called a sacque, of dark -murrey-colored wool, catching higher wine-tinted lights from the fire -as the folds opened over a bodice and petticoat of flowered stuff of -acanthus leaves on a faint blue ground. She seemed ill at ease under -this rodomontade against her father, and roused herself to protest. - -“Why, you can’t have _forgotten_ the Indians! You were talking about -them every step of the way from Charlestown. And if you have seen one -you have seen one hundred.” - -“Out of sight out of mind--and _me_--so timid! Oh--and that hideous -Fort Loudon massacre! Oh, scorch the tongue that says the word! Oh--the -Indians! And me--so timid!” - -“Lord, Aunt--” Arabella laid the embroidery-frame on her knees and -gazed at her relative with stern, upbraiding eyes, “you know you -lamented to discover that we were not to pass Fort Loudon on our -journey, for you said it would be ‘a sight to remember, frightful but -improving, like a man hung in chains.’” - -Mrs. Annandale softly beat her hands together. - -“To talk of guarding life with his monkey soldiers against those red -painted demons who drink blood and eat people--oh!--and me, _so timid_!” - -She desisted suddenly as a light tap fell on the door and the -mess-sergeant entered the room. She set her cap to rights with both -her white, delicate, wrinkled, trembling hands, and stared with wild -half-comprehending eyes as the man presented the compliments of -Lieutenants Bolt and Jerrold, and Ensigns Lawrence and Innis, who felt -themselves vastly honored by her invitation to a game of Quadrille, and -would have the pleasure of waiting upon her this evening at the hour -Captain Howard had named. - -She made an appropriate rejoinder, and she waited until the door had -closed upon the messenger, for she rarely “capered,” as her maid called -her angry antics, in the presence of outsiders. Then she said with -low-toned virulence to her niece:-- - -“The scheming meddler! That father of yours! _That_ father of yours! -Talk of treachery! Wilier than any Indian! Quadrille! Invite them! -Smite them! Quadrille! Why, Mervyn is not complimented at all. The same -grace extended to each and every!” - -“And why should _he_ be complimented, Aunt Claudia?” - -“No reason in the world, Miss, as far as you are concerned,” retorted -her aunt. “Our compliments won’t move such as George Mervyn!” Then -recovering her temper,--“I thought a little special distinction as a -dear old friend and a lifelong neighbor might be fitting. Poor dear -Brother must equalize the whole garrison!” - -It seemed to Captain Howard as if with the advent of his feminine -guests had entered elements of doubt and difficulty of which he had -lately experienced a pleasant surcease. The joy which he had felt as a -fond parent in embracing a good and lovely child, after a long absence, -was too keen to continue in the intensity of its first moments and was -softened to a gentle and tender content, a habitude of the heart, even -more pleasurable. He was fond, too, in a way, of his queer sister, and -grateful for her fostering care of his motherless children; he had -great consideration for her whims and not the most remote appreciation -of her peculiar abilities. The abatement of the joy of reunion was -manifest in the fact that her whims now seemed to dominate her whole -personality and tempered the fervor of his gratitude. He was already -ashamed that he had not invited to the dinner of welcome the four -other gentlemen who seemed altogether fit for that festivity and made -the occasion one of general rejoicing among his brother officers and -fellow-exiles, rather than a nettlesome point of exclusion. He was -realizing, too, the disproportionate importance such trifles as the -opportunity for transient pleasures possess in the estimation of the -young, although they have all the years before them, with the continual -recurrence of conventional incidents. Perhaps the long interval, -debarred from all society of their sphere, rendered the exclusion a -positive deprivation. He regretted that he had submitted to Mrs. -Annandale’s arrogation of the privilege of choosing the company invited -to celebrate the arrival of the commandant’s daughter at the frontier -fort. He seized upon the first moment when the rousing of his official -conscience freed him, for the time, to repair the omission. The -projected card-party would seem a device for introducing the officers -in detail, as if this were deemed less awkward than entertaining them -in a body, especially as there were only two ladies to represent the -fair sex in the company. - -To his satisfaction this implied theory of the appropriate seemed -readily adopted. Lieutenant Jerrold was a man of a conventional, -assured address, his conversation always strictly in good form and -strictly limited. He was little disposed to take offence where the -ground of quarrel seemed untenable or, on the other hand, to thrust -himself forward where his presence was not warmly encouraged. He -welcomed the invitation as enabling him to pay his respects to the -ladies, which, indeed, seemed incumbent in the situation, but he had -been a trifle nettled by the postponement of the opportunity. He had -dark hair and eyes; he was tall, pale, and slender, with a narrow face -and a flash of white teeth when he smiled. He was in many respects -a contrast to the two ensigns--Innis, blue-eyed, blond, and square -visaged, his complexion burned a uniform red by his frontier campaigns, -and Lawrence, who had suffered much freckling as the penalty of the -extreme fairness of his skin, and who always wore his hair heavily -powdered, to disguise in part the red hue, which was greatly out of -favor in his day. Bolt, the fort-adjutant, was not likely to add much -to the mirth of nations, or even of the garrison--a heavily-built, -sedate, taciturn man, who would eat his supper with appreciation and -discrimination, and play his cards most judiciously. - -Captain Howard left the mess-hall where the recipients of his courtesy -discussed its intendment over the remainder of breakfast, and took his -way, his square head wagging now and then with an appreciation of its -own obstinacy, across the snowy parade. - -The gigantic purple slopes of the encompassing mountains showed here -and there where the heavy masses of the drifts had slipped down by -their own weight, and again the dark foliage of pine and holly and -laurel gloomed amongst the snow-laden boughs of the bare deciduous -trees. The contour, however, of the great dome-like “balds” was -distinct, of an unbroken whiteness against the dark slate-tinted sky, -uniform of tone from pole to pole. - -Many feet had trampled the snow hard on the parade, and there was as -yet no sign of thaw. Feathery tufts hung between the points of the -high stockade surmounting the ramparts and choked the wheels of the -four small cannon that were mounted on each of the four bastions. The -cheeks of the deep embrasures out of which their black muzzles pointed -were blockaded with drifts, and the scarp and counterscarp were smooth, -and white, and untrodden. The roofs of the block-houses were covered, -and all along the northern side of the structures was a thin coating -of snow clinging to the logs, save where the protuberant upper story -overhung and sheltered the walls beneath. Close about the chimney of -the building wherein was situated the mess-hall, the heat of the great -fire below had melted the drifts, and a cordon of icicles clung from -the stone cap, whence the dark column of smoke rushed up and, with a -vigorous swirl through the air, made off into invisibility without -casting a shadow in this gray day. He could see the great conical -“state-house” on a high mound of the Indian settlement of Old Keowee -Town, across the river; it was as smooth and white as a marble rotunda. -The huddled dwellings were on a lower level and invisible from his -position on the parade. As he glanced toward the main gate he paused -suddenly. Before the guard-house the guard had been turned out, a -glittering line of scarlet across the snow. The little tower above the -gate was built in somewhat the style of a belfry, and through the open -window the warder, like the clapper of a bell, stood drooping forward, -gazing down at a group of blanketed and feather-crested figures, -evidently Indians, desiring admission and now in conference with the -officer of the guard. Captain Howard quickened his steps toward the -party, and Raymond, perceiving his approach, advanced to meet him. -There was a hasty, low-toned colloquy. Then “Damn _all_ the Indians!” -cried Captain Howard, angrily. “Damn them _all_!” - -“The parson says ‘No’!” Raymond submitted, with a glance of raillery. - -“This is no occasion for your malapert wit, sir,” the captain retorted -acridly. - -Ordinarily Captain Howard was accessible to a pleasantry and himself -encouraged a jovial insouciance as far as it might promote the general -cheerfulness, but this incident threatened a renewal of a long strain -of perplexity and dubious diplomacy and doubtful menace. It was -impossible to weigh events. A trifle of causeless discontent among the -Indians might herald downright murder. A real and aggravated grievance -often dragged itself out and died of inanition in long correspondence -with the colonial authorities, or the despatch of large and expensive -delegations to Charlestown for those diplomatic conferences with the -governor of South Carolina which the Indians loved and which flattered -the importance of the head-men. - -He strove visibly for his wonted self-balanced poise, and noticing that -the young officer flushed, albeit silent, as needs must, he felt that -he had taken unchivalrous advantage of the military etiquette which -prevented a retort. He went on with a grim smile:-- - -“Where is this missionary now, who won’t give the devil his due.” - -“The emissaries don’t tell, sir. Somewhere on the Tugaloo River, they -give me to understand.” - -“And what the fiend does he there?” - -“Converts the Indians to Christianity, sir, if he can.” - -“And they resist conversion?” - -“They say he plagues them with many words.” - -Captain Howard nodded feelingly. - -“They say he unsettles the minds of the people, who grow slack in the -observance of their ‘old beloved’ worship. He reviles their religion, -and offends ‘the Ancient White Fire.’” - -“There is no rancor like religious rancor, no deviltry like pious -strife,” said Captain Howard, in genuine dismay. “Nothing could so -easily rouse the Indians anew.” - -He paused in frowning anxiety. “Stop me, sir, this man is monstrous -short of a Christian, himself, to jeopardize the peace and put the -whole frontier into danger for his zeal--just now when the tribe is -fairly pacified. This threatens Fort Prince George first of all.” - -He set his square jaw as he thought of his daughter and his sister. - -Raymond instinctively knew what was passing in his mind, and forgetful -of his sharp criticism volunteered reassurance. - -“The delegation speak, sir, as if only the missionary were in danger.” - -“Why don’t they burn him, then, sir--kindle the fire with his own -prayer-book!” cried Captain Howard, furiously. Danger from the -Indians--now! with Arabella and Claudia at Fort Prince George! He could -not tolerate the idea. Even in their defeated and disconsolate estate -the Cherokees could bring two thousand warriors to the field--and the -garrison of Fort Prince George numbered scant one hundred, rank and -file. - -“It might be the beginning of trouble,” suggested Raymond, generously -disregarding the acerbity with which his unsought remarks had been -received. “You know how one burning kindles the fires of others--how -one murder begins a massacre.” - -“Lord--Lord--yes!” exclaimed Captain Howard. “What ails the -wretch?--are there no sinners at Fort Prince George that he must go -hammering at the gates of heaven for the vile red fiends? And what a -murrain would they do there! I can see Moy Toy having a ‘straight talk’ -with Saint Peter, and that one-eyed murderer, Rolloweh, quiring to a -gilded harp! Is there no way of getting at the man? Will they not let -him come back now?” - -“They have asked him to leave the country.” - -“And what said he?” demanded Captain Howard. - -“The delegation declare that he said, ‘Woe!’” - -“Whoa!” echoed Captain Howard, in blank amaze. - -“Yes, sir,--that was his answer to them in conclave in their beloved -square. ‘Woe!’” - -“Whoa!” repeated Captain Howard, stuck fast in misapprehension. “I -think he means, Get-up-and-go-’long!” - -Raymond had a half-hysteric impulse to laugh, and yet it was -independent of any real amusement. - -“I fancy he meant, ‘Woe is unto him if he preach not the gospel,’” he -said. “The Indians remember one word only--‘Woe!’” - -“He shall preach the gospel hereafter at Fort Prince George! Is there -no way to quiet the man?” - -“You know the Indians’ methods, sir. I think they have some demand to -make of you, but they will not enter on it for twenty-four hours. They -want accommodations and a conference to-morrow.” - -“Zounds!” exclaimed Captain Howard, in the extremity of impatience. -In this irregular frontier warfare he had known many a long-drawn, -lingering agony of suspense--but he felt as if he could not endure -the ordeal with all he now had at stake, his daughter, his sister, as -hostages to the fortunes of war. He had an impulse to take the crisis -as it were in the grasp of his hand and crush it in the moment. He -could not wait--yet wait he must. - -“They only vouchsafed as much as I have told you in order to secure the -conference,” said Raymond. “I gave them to understand that the time of -our ‘beloved man’ was precious and not to be expended on trifles. But -they held back the nature of the demand on you and the whereabouts of -the parson.” - -“I pray God, they have not harmed the poor old man!” exclaimed Captain -Howard fervently, with a sudden revulsion of sentiment. - -They both glanced toward the gate where the deputation stood under -the archway. The sun was shining faintly and the wan light streamed -through the portal. The shadows duplicated the number and the attitudes -of the blanketed and feather-crested figures, all erect, and stark, -and motionless, looking in blank silence at the conference of the -two officers. The shadows had a meditative pose, a sort of pondering -attention, and when suddenly the sun darkened and the shadows vanished, -the effect was as if some dimly visible councillors had whispered to -the Indians and were mysteriously resolved into the medium of the air. - -They received Raymond on his return with their characteristic -expressionless stolidity, and when the quarter-master appeared, hard on -Captain Howard’s withdrawal, with the order for their lodgement in a -cluster of huts just without the works, reserved for such occasions and -such guests, they repaired thither without a word, and Raymond, looking -after them from the gate, soon beheld the smoke ascending from their -fires and the purveying out of the good cheer of the hospitality of -Fort Prince George. He noticed a trail of blood on the snow, where the -quarter-master’s men had laid down for a moment a quarter of beef, and -in this he recognized a special compliment, for beef was a rarity with -the Indians--venison and wild-fowl being their daily fare. - -As the day waxed and waned he often cast his eye thither noting their -movements. They came out in a body in the afternoon and repaired -together to the trading-house, situated near the bank of the river, -and occupied as a home as well as a store by the Scotch trader and -his corps of assistants. That fire-water would be in circulation -Raymond did not doubt, for to refuse it would work more disturbance -than to set it forth in moderation. There were many regulations in -hindrance of its sale, but rarely enforced, and he doubted if the -trader would forego his profit even at the risk of the displeasure of -the commandant. Some difficulty they evidently encountered, however, -in procuring it. They all came back immediately and disappeared in -their huts, and there was no sign of life in all the bleak landscape, -save the vague smoke from the Indian town across the river and the -dark wreaths from the fires of the delegation. The woods stood sheeted -and white at the extremity of the space beyond the glacis, cleared to -prevent too close an approach of an enemy and the firing into the fort -from the branches of trees within range. The river was like rippled -steel, its motion undiscerned on its surface, and its flow was silent. -The sky was still gray and sombre; at one side of the fort the prongs -and boughs of the abattis thrust darkly up through the snow that lodged -among them. - -Somewhat after the noon hour he noticed a party of Indians, -vagrant-like, kindling a fire in a sheltered space in the lee of a rock -and feeding on the carcass of a deer lately killed. The feast was long, -but when it was ended they sat motionless, fully gorged, all in a row, -squatting, huddled in their blankets and eying the fort, seemingly -aimless as the time passed and the fire dwindled and died, neither -sleeping nor making any sign. When the Indians of the delegation -accommodated in the huts issued again and once more hopefully took -their way to the trading-house, they must have seen, coming or going, -this row of singular objects, like roosting birds, dark against -the snow, silently contemplating with unknown, unknowable, savage -thoughts the little fort. There was no suggestion of recognition or -communication. Each band was for the other as if it did not exist. The -delegation wended its way to the trading-house, and presently returned, -and once more sought the emporium, and again repaired to the temporary -quarters. The snow between the two points began to show a heavily -trampled path. - -That these migrations were not altogether without result became evident -when one of the Indians, zig-zagging unsteadily in the rear, wandered -from the beaten track, stumbled over the stump of a tree concealed by -a drift, floundered unnoticed for a time, unable to rise, and at last -lay there so still and so long that Raymond began to think he might -freeze should he remain after the chill of the nightfall. But as the -skies darkened two of the Indians came forth and dragged him into one -of their huts, which were beginning to show as dull red sparks of light -in the gathering dusk. And still beyond the abattis that semblance of -birds of ill-omen was discernible against the expanse of white snow, as -with their curious, racial, unimagined whim the vagrant savages sat in -the cold and watched the fort. They did not stir when the sunset gun -sounded and the flag fluttered gently down from the staff. The beat of -drums shook the thick air, and the yearning sweetness of the bugle’s -tone, as it sounded for retreat, found a responsive vibration even in -the snow-muffled rocks. Again and again it was lovingly reiterated, -and a tender resonance thrilled vaguely a long time down the dim cold -reaches of the river. - -Lights had sprung up in the windows. A great yellow flare gushed out -from the open door of the mess-hall, and the leaping flames of the -gigantic fireplace could be seen across the parade. The barracks were -loud with jovial voices. Servants bearing trays of dishes were passing -back and forth from the kitchen to the commandant’s quarters. The -vigorous tramp of the march of soldiers made itself heard even in the -snow as the corporal of the guard went out with the relief. A star -showed in the dull gray sky that betokened in the higher atmosphere -motion and shifting of clouds. A faint, irresolute, roseate tint lay -above the purple slope to the west with a hesitant promise of a fair -morrow. The light faded, the night slipped down, and the sentries began -to challenge. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - - -It was the fashion of the time and place to be zealous in flattering -the Indian’s sense of importance, and the hospitality of the fort was -constantly asserted in plying the delegation with small presents. -Shortly after nightfall the quarter-master-sergeant went out to the -Indian huts with some tobacco and pipes, and tafia, and the compliments -of the commandant. He returned with the somewhat significant -information that they needed no tafia. A few, he stated, were sober, -but saturnine and grave. Others were blind drunk. The most troublesome -had reached the jovial stage. From where they lay recumbent they had -caught the soldier by one leg and then by the other, tumbled him on the -floor, and tripped him again and again as he sought to rise; finally, -he made his way by scrambling on all fours out into the snow, and -running for the gate with two or three of the staggering braves at his -heels. - -“Faix, if the commandant has any more complimints to waste on thim -Injun gossoons,” he remarked, as he stood, panting and puffing, under -the archway while the guard clustered at gaze in the big door of the -guard-house, “by the howly poker, he may pursint them in person! For -the divil be in ivery fut I’ve got if I go a-nigh them cu’rus bogies -agin! They ain’t human. Wait, me b’ye, till I git me breath, an’ I’ll -give ye the countersign, if I haven’t forgot ut. I’m constructively -on the outside yit, seein’ ye cannot let me in till I gives ye the -countersign.” - -There was a low-toned murmur. - -“Pass, friend,” said the sentinel. - -“Thankin’ ye fur nothin’,” the quarter-master-sergeant rejoined as he -paused under the archway to gaze back over the snow. - -“If Robin Dorn ain’t a frog or a tadpole to grow a new laig if one is -pulled off,” he remarked, “he’ll hardly make the fort to-night.” - -The sentinel, left alone at the gate, peered out into the bleak dark -waste. All suggestion of light had faded from the sky, and that the -ground was white showed only where the yellow gleams from the doors and -windows of the fort fell upon the limited space of the snowy parade. -Soon these dwindled to a lantern in front of the silent barracks and a -vague glimmer from the officers’ mess-hall, where the great fire was -left all solitary to burn itself out. A light still shone through the -windows of the commandant’s quarters, where he was entertaining company -at cards. But otherwise the fort was lapsing to quiescence and slumber. - -A wind began to stir in the woods. More than once the sentinel heard -the dull thud of falling masses of snow and the clashing together of -bare boughs. Then the direction of the current of the air changed; it -wavered and gradually its force failed, a deep stillness ensued and -absolute darkness prevailed. The sound of crunching, as wolves or dogs -gnawed, snarling, the bones of the deer that the vagrant savages had -killed beyond the abattis, was distinct to his ear. It was a cold night -and a dreary. The vigilance of watching with naught in expectation is a -strain upon the attention which a definite menace does not exert. There -was now no thought of danger from the Indians, who were fast declining -from the character of warriors and marauders to that of mendicants and -aimless intruders and harmless pests. The soldier knew his duty and was -prepared to do it, but to maintain a close guard in these circumstances -was a vexatious necessity. He paced briskly up and down to keep his -blood astir. - -A break in the dull monotony can never be so welcome as to a dreary -night-watch. He experienced a sense of absolute pleasure in the -regulation appearance of the officer of the day, crossing the parade -and challenged by the sentinel before the guard-house door. The brisk -turning out of the guard was like a reassurance of the continued -value and cheer of life. The flare from the guard-house door showed -the lines of red uniforms, the glitter of the bayonets, the muskets -carried at “shoulder arms!” the officer of the guard, Raymond, at his -post, and the sergeant advancing to the stationary figure, waiting -in the snow. He watched the familiar scene, on which in the day-time -he would not have bestowed a glance, as if it had some new and eager -significance--so do trifles of scant interest fill the void of mental -inactivity. - -The crisp young voices were musical to his ear as they rang out in -the night with the stereotyped phrases. “Advance, officer of the -day, and give the countersign!” cried the sergeant. Then as Mervyn -advanced and a whispered colloquy ensued, the dapper sergeant whirled -briskly, smartly saluting the officer of the guard with the cry--as of -discovery--“The countersign is right!” - -“Advance officer of the day,” said Raymond. - -The two officers approached each other and the sentinel, losing -interest in their unheard, whispered conference as Mervyn gave the -parole, turned his eyes to the wild waste without. He was startled to -see vaguely, dubiously, in some vagrant, far glimmer of the flare from -the guard-house door or the swinging flicker of the lantern carried by -one of the two men who, with a non-commissioned officer, was preparing -to accompany the officer of the day on his rounds, a strange illusion, -as close as the parapet of the covered way. There were dark figures -against the snow, crouching dog-like or wolf-like--and yet he knew them -to be Indians. They were gazing at the illuminated military manœuvre -set in the flare of yellow light in the midst of the dark night. The -sentinel could not be sure of their number, their distance. He cried -out harshly--“Who goes there! The guard! The guard!” - -In one moment the guard, put to double-quick, was under the archway -of the gate. A detail was sent out in swift reconnaissance with the -corporal’s lantern and returned without result. There was naught -to be found. The barren wintry expanse of the glacis was vacant. -Nothing stirred save a wind blowing in infrequent, freakish gusts that -struck the snow with sudden flaws and sent a shower of stinging icy -particles upward into the chill red faces as the men rushed hither -and thither. The huts of the Indians were silent, dark, the inmates -apparently locked in slumber. Bethinking himself of the untoward -possibilities of a sudden tumult among the Indians in the confusion and -darkness,--whether they might interpret the demonstration from the fort -as aggression or consternation,--Raymond on this account ordered the -party to return silently to Fort Prince George through the sally-port. -The same idea had occurred to Mervyn, for when the ensign rejoined him -at the main gate he was administering a sharp rebuke to the sentry for -raising a false alarm. It seemed, however, to Raymond that it left much -to the discretion of an ordinary soldier to permit him to discriminate -between inaction and the reference to his officer’s judgment of such a -demonstration as he had described. - -“You saw nothing,” Mervyn said, severely. “You are either demented, or -drunk, or dreaming.” - -He turned away, then suddenly stepped back to admonish the sentry -to raise no such disturbance when Robin Dorn should return from the -trader’s. - -“Don’t mistake the drummer-boy for an army with banners!” he said, -scornfully. And having concluded his visit to the guard he once more -flung off and disappeared in the darkness of the parade. Raymond -lingered after ordering the guard within. Perhaps it was a bit of -meddlesome jealousy, perhaps a resentment of Mervyn’s manner, which -seemed unwontedly high-handed to-night, although there had been -naught but the official business between them, perhaps he thought -it dangerous to curb so severely the zeal of a sentry under these -peculiar circumstances, but he plied the soldier with questions -and considerately weighed his contradictory statements and seemed -sympathetically aware that these inconsistencies were not intentional -perversions of fact, but the impossibility of being sure of aught -when all was invested with mystery. Raymond’s mind bent to the -conviction that there was no admixture of fancy in the sentry’s story. -Whatever was the intent of the demonstration on the part of the -Indians,--whether to rush the gate and overpower the guard, or merely -the malicious joy in creating an alarm and a fierce relish of being an -object of terror, or even, simpler still, a childish curiosity in the -military routine of going the rounds--it was certainly a genuine fact -and no vision, drowsy or drunken. - -It had latterly been the habit to leave the gates open for the sheer -sake of convenience, after the foolhardy fashion of the frontier. -Strange as it may seem in view of the universal distrust of the good -faith of the Indians, the universal conviction of their inherent -racial treachery, the repeated demonstration of their repudiation of -the sanctities of all pledges, many a massacre found its opportunity -in the heedless disregard of the commonest precautions. Raymond -now ordered the gates to be closed and barred, and instructed the -sentinel to send Robin Dorn for admittance to the sally-port beneath -the rampart. He repaired to the guard-house, and, still doubtful, -he ordered the corporal with two men to attend him, stating to the -sergeant, as next in rank, his intention to reconnoitre from the -northern ramparts and the slope of the abattis, to discover if the -curious birds of ill-omen still crouched at gaze or whither they had -betaken themselves and with what intent. It was understood that he -would return in a quarter of an hour, and quiet settled down on the -precincts of the guard-room. - -Robin Dorn was of that unclassified species, too tall, too long -of limb, too stalwart of build for a boy, and yet too young, too -raw, too inconsequent and unreasoning for a man. The simple phrase, -“hobble-de-hoy,” might adequately describe his estate in life. His -errand had been to secure from the trading-house the drum-sticks of a -new drum to replace one with a burst cylinder, which the commandant had -ordered in Charlestown, through the trader. The instrument had been -duly delivered, but the drum-sticks had been overlooked. Upon this -discovery the drummer had requested leave to repair to the trader’s -in the hope that the sticks were among the smaller commodities of the -cargo, just arrived by pack-train, the convoy, indeed, under whose -protection the ladies of the captain’s household and he himself had -travelled. The confusion incident upon opening a variety of goods which -had been packed with the sole effort to compress as much as possible in -the smallest compass was not a concomitant of speed. Robin’s efforts to -tousle and tumble through the whole stock in his search were sternly -repressed by the trader’s assistants, and even the merchant now and -then admonished him with--“Wow, pig, take your foot out the trough!” -He was fain at last to sit on a keg of gun-powder, and watch the -unrolling of every bit of merchandise, solemnly disposed in its place -on the shelf before the next article was handled. Now and again a -cheerful,--“Heigh, sirs! Here they are!” called out in the unrolling of -a piece of stroud cloth, wherein was folded wooden spoons, or a dozen -table-knives, or a long pistol, heralded a disappointment which Robin -manifested so dolorously that the trader was fain to mutter--“Bide a -wee, Robbie, bide a wee--” and offer a sup of liquid consolation. So -long the search continued that the new goods were all sorted and fairly -ranged upon the shelves before the drum-sticks revealed themselves, -stuffed separately in a pair of leggings which they inadequately filled -out, and the night had long ago descended upon the snowy environs of -the little fort. - -“If the sentry winna pass me ye’ll hae to gie me a bit sup o’ parritch -an’ my bed the nicht,” he stipulated, modestly, in reply to the profuse -apologies and commiseration of his host. “I kenna the countersign, -an’ ye wad na hae me shake down wi’ them Injuns in the huts yon. I -mis-doubt they hae fleas, though ’tis winter.” - -“Dinna ye gae nigh ’em, bairn,” the kindly trader seriously admonished -him. “Fleas is not the way thae dour savages will let your blood. Gif -the sentry winna let ye come ben e’en turn back, callant;--but if ye -are thinkin’ they winna sort ye for it, ye are welcome to stay the -nicht here, without seeking to win the fort.” - -“Na--na--I’m fair fain to hear how these birkies will march to the tune -of ‘Dumbarton’s Drums’!” - -Robin caught up the sticks between his practised fingers, and in dumb -show beat a spirited measure on the empty air. His red uniform, his -cocked hat, showing his flaxen curls, his frank sun-burned face, and -his laughing blue eyes, all combined to make up an appealing picture to -the elder men, and despite a qualm of reluctance the trader could not -refrain from saying, “Take a horn, callant, before you gae out in the -air--you’ve a sair hoast now.” - -With this reinforcement to his earlier potations,--still he was not -what a Scotchman would call drunk,--Robin set out with swift strides in -the black night, a drum-stick in either hand, in the direction of the -fort. He might only know where it lay by a vague suffusion in a certain -quarter of unappeasable bleak darkness--a sort of halo, as it were, the -joint effect, he was aware, of the occasional opening of the guard-room -door, the feeble glimmer of the lanterns hanging in the barrack -galleries and outside the officers’ quarters, and the light that dully -burned all night in the hospital, gleaming from the windows. - -After a time a dim red spot toward the left showed him where lay -the Indian camp. Now it became invisible as some undulation of the -ground interposed, or some drift heavily submerged one of the myriad -stumps of the cleared-away forest. Sometimes he ran into these in -the blinding night, and once he stumbled, floundering so deep that -he thought he had fallen into some pit sunk there in the days of the -war to entrap an enemy--the remnants of an exploded mine, perhaps, or -_trous-de-loup_. But he came upon hard ground with no mishap, save -the loss of one of his drum-sticks, found after much groping. As he -regained the perpendicular he noted that the red glow, indicating the -Indian camp, seemed, now that he was nearer, but the light from embers. -It was odd that their fires should die down. Ordinarily the flames -were kept flaring high throughout the night, to scare away wolves and -panthers. When this thought struck him he drew a long knife from his -belt and passed his fingers gingerly along its keen edge, then thrust -it anew into its sheath. But if the Indians were not there, whither -had they vanished? The unfriendly, veiled night, with a suggestion as -of an implacable enmity in its unresponsive silence, its bitter chill, -its sinister, impenetrable obscurity, was appalling in the possibility -that its vast invisibilities harbored these strange, savage beings, -wandering, who knew where and with what ferocious intent. Robin Dorn -suddenly began to run impetuously, stumbling where he could not heed, -falling if he needs must, with his right arm advanced, as if the night -were a palpable thing and he shouldered through obstacles in the -obscurity. He met naught. He crossed the glacis, ran along the covered -way, reached the brink of the counterscarp, and wavered at the little -bridge above the ditch as the warder from the lookout tower challenged -him with a stern--“Halt! Who goes there?” - -“Robin Dorn. An’ I hinna the countersign. There’s a wheen Injuns -flittering around yon. Let me come ben. What for have ye got the great -yett steekit?” - -“Come around to the little gate, Sawney!” said the sentinel below, -after a word to his comrade aloft. “The sally-port is big enough for -the likes of you.” - -“I’m fair froze,” Robin whimpered, as the smaller postern at last -opened to admit him. “Ohone! You’ve kep’ me jiggling an’ dauncing -till my ears are fair frosted!”--he touched them smartly with his -drum-sticks--“an’ me out on the business of the post! I did na think -ye’d have served me sic a ill turn, Benjie! Steek the yett agin me!” - -“Oh, stow your tongue!” retorted the sentinel. “I had nothing to _do_ -with closing the gate--the guard closed it. Get along with you.” - -Robin shuffled along through the snow, bent half double and feeling -pierced with the chill which he had sustained while waiting at the -gate, over-heated as he was from running. He paused as he passed in -front of the guard-house. - -“What for did the guard steek the yett agin me?” he demanded of the -sentinel on the step. “I’ll complain to the officer of the guard!” - -“Go to bed, you zany!” returned the sentinel, “the officer of the guard -is not here.” - -“Heigh, sirs,” cried the harum-scarum boy. “Say ye sae! I’ll e’en tak -a keek at the guard-room fire!” He sprang past the sentinel and was in -the room in a moment. - -The great fire flared tumultuously in the deep chimney-place; the -white-washed room, despite its ample proportions, was warm, and snug, -and clean. The light glittered on the arms stacked in the centre of -the floor in readiness at a moment’s warning. On the broad hearth of -stone flagging, the soldiers, all fully accoutred and arrayed, despite -the hour, in their scarlet uniforms, were ranged; several sat on each -of the high-backed settles on either side of the chimney. All looked -up as the door opened and the drummer shot in, the sentinel protesting -behind him. The door of the prison beyond was half ajar, the sergeant -having stepped in to examine an inmate, confined for some military -misdemeanor, who was complaining of sudden illness. - -“Why, Robin,” one of the guard called out, jocosely. “Avaunt! Depart! -This is no place for you!” - -He was a big, clumsy, red-faced young Briton, and he rose and came with -a lurching gait toward the drummer, who stood, smiling, a mischievous -glint in his blue eyes, his cocked hat set back on his flaxen curls, -his face flushed with the nipping chill without, and his red coat -and leggings covered with a frosting of snow, evidently relishing the -freak of his intrusion here in the absence of the officers, and full of -animal spirits and fun. - -“Wha’s gaun to mak me gae, the noo?” he demanded, capering on his long -legs. - -“Faix, thin, I will, me b’ye!” cried an Irishman, springing up from -the hearth, eager for even the semblance of a shindy. As he ran at -the drummer, head down, Robin lifted the drum-sticks and beat a brisk -rub-a-dub on his crown; then as his English comrade came to the rescue, -the boy whisked about and, being the taller by a head, despite his -youth, he made the drum-sticks rattle about the older man’s ears and -his skull ring like the drawn membrane of the new snare drum. The -others sprang up in a body and rushed gayly at the light and agile -drummer, still plying his sticks on every cranium that came within his -reach, whisking among them, darting from one to another, slipping under -their out-stretched arms and setting many a head to ringing with a tune -all its own, till finally he was surrounded, collared, caught up bodily -and fairly flung outside in the deepest drift near at hand. There he -wallowed futilely struggling, for a moment overcome with laughter and -frantic exertion; finally, he found his feet and made off, tingling -with warmth and jollity, toward the barracks. He was fairly housed -there when the guard-house door opened to admit the officer of the -guard, the corporal, and the two men with the lantern, and the opposite -door closed by the re-entrance of the sergeant from the sick patient. -Both officers stood at gaze; the men were shambling and shuffling, -a trifle shame-facedly, about the room, deeply flushed, some still -mechanically laughing, and breathing hard and fast, though all assumed -the stiff regulation attitude of the soldier. - -“What is all this, Sergeant?” demanded Raymond. - -“I don’t know, sir,” answered the second in command. “I’ve been looking -after Peters--he seems better now.” - -“What is the matter, men?” Raymond turned to the soldiers. - -“Just a bit of fun, sir,” one of them responded, puffingly, his breath -still short. - -“This is no time or place for wrestling and horse-play,” Raymond -admonished them. - -“Oh, no, sir,” another replied, “that little fool drummer stopped here -as he came in the fort, and we put him out.” - -“Half frozen, I dare say. I see no fun in that,” responded Raymond. -Then because the night was long and monotonous, and the reconnaissance -unfruitful, and the fire genial, as he stood before it, and subversive -of unbending--“What was the joke?” he demanded, feeling that a flavor -of joviality might season the arid and tasteless interval of time. - -The men hesitated, looking doubtfully from one to the other. But -Raymond was a favorite among them, and his query could not be -disregarded. In view of their sentiment toward him they did not seek a -subterfuge or to baffle his curiosity. - -“’Twon’t be like reporting on the gossoon, Ensign?” demanded the -Irishman, anxiously, and with the negative reply he burst into -a spirited detail of the drum-beating episode and the freakish -drum-sticks. - -“We were not goin’ to put up with the loikes av that, Ensign, av -course,” he concluded. “As soon as we cud lay hands on the slippery -little baste, we doubled up the long legs av him an’ flung him out into -a snow-drift.” - -Raymond smiled indulgently as he stood before the fire, looking down -thoughtfully into the bed of coals, glistening to a white heat under -the flaming logs. Then he turned away. - -“I think I’ll see Peters, Sergeant. If he is as bad as he was, he must -be sent to the hospital.” Thus he disappeared into the inner room. - -The group of soldiers resumed their places on the settle and on the -hearth before the flaming fire. By slow degrees the long night wore -away. Now and again the fire was replenished, but as the hours passed -it was suffered to burn low, for the weather had moderated. The clouds -thinned and fell apart, and when the relief went out there were stars -in a chill glitter in a clear dark sky. The wind was astir; it was -blowing from the south. Again and again a commotion within the forest -verges told of dislodged drifts from the branches of the trees. The -thaw set in before dawn, and when the sun appeared in a gorgeous -emblazonment of deep red, and purplish pink, and roseate saffron on -the opaline sky, its light suffused a world all adrip with moisture, -and the slopes of the neighboring mountains, darkly purple, were half -veiled in shimmering mists, that reached from creek and valley to -the zenith and hung in the air in motionless suspension. The Keowee -River was of a dull, rippled slate-color, till a sudden shaft of light -struck out a steely gleam as if a blade had been suddenly unsheathed. -The bugle’s stirring acclaim of the reveille rang out to far distant -coverts of the mountain, where the deer, coming down to drink, paused -to listen, and the marauding wolf, and catamount, and panther, cogeners -of the night, slunk to their caverns and dens, as if warned by the -voice of the morn to vex no more for a season the peace of harmless -wildlings. The sun-rise gun smote the air with all its dull echoes -booming after. The flag rose buoyantly to the tip of the staff. The -Indian town of Old Keowee, on the opposite bank of the river, was -all astir, and now and again the sonorous note of the conch-shell, a -detail of the matutinal savage worship, blended oddly with the martial -resonance of the British drums beating for roll-call as the garrison of -Fort Prince George lined up in front of the barracks. - - - - -CHAPTER V - - -The influence of the masterful Mrs. Annandale at Fort Prince George -was felt on the parade that morning ere guard-mounting was fairly -concluded. The old guard had been paraded, presenting arms, as the -new guard, with arms shouldered, marched past, the band playing, the -officers punctiliously saluting, the whole conducted with as much -ceremony as if the garrison numbered ten thousand men. These strict -observances were held to foster the self-respect of the soldier as well -as conserve discipline. Even off duty the rigors of military etiquette, -as between the rank and file and the officers, were never permitted -to be relaxed. Among the officers, themselves, however, formality, -save as strictly official, was altogether ignored. So few they were, -in exclusive constant association by reason of the loneliness, that -they were like a band of brothers, and the equality always pervading a -mess, in which the distinctions of rank are by common consent annulled -in the interests of good fellowship, was peculiarly pronounced. -Therefore Raymond, walking across the parade to the mess-hall, now off -duty,--his sentinels had been relieved and his report duly sent by -a non-commissioned officer to the officer of the day,--was somewhat -surprised by a very commanding gesture from Mervyn signing him to -pause. - -Captain-Lieutenant Mervyn certainly had no aspect resembling a sheep -as he crossed the parade. He was erect, alert; he stepped swiftly; -his eyes were bright and intent, his cheek was flushed, and he had -an imperious manner. So uncharacteristic was his look that Raymond -was conscious of staring in surprise as they met. Mervyn cast so -significant a glance at the subaltern’s hand that it was borne in upon -the junior that he considered the occasion official, and expected -the formal salute. Raymond, half offended, had yet a mind to laugh, -Mervyn’s manner being so pervaded by a sense of his superiority in rank -as well as all else. The ensign saluted with a half-mocking grace, and -the captain-lieutenant gravely responded. - -“Ensign Raymond,” said Mervyn, “you were officer of the guard yesterday -and relieved to-day.” - -“Even so,” assented Raymond. - -Mervyn lifted his eye-brows, and Raymond knew that he desired the -formal “Yes, sir.” He was suddenly angered by this unusual proceeding. -He saw that something was much amiss with his senior, but he could -not imagine that still rankling in Mervyn’s consciousness was the -recollection of the laughing delight and ridicule in his eyes the -evening of the dinner upon the dénouement of the gypsy story. He knew -of naught that should render their relations other than they had -hitherto been. He protested to himself that he would not be a fool, and -stand here saluting, and frowning, and majoring with importance, as if -they had some military matter of moment pending between them. - -“What the devil, Mervyn, do you want?” he demanded. - -Mervyn gave him a stony stare. Then, still formally, he went on. “As -officer of the day I received your report as officer of the guard. No -mention was made--” he unfolded a paper in his hand and referred to -it--“of a very unusual proceeding which took place during your tour of -service.” - -“Was not the arrival of the delegation mentioned?” - -“Certainly,” Mervyn said, his eyes still on the paper. Raymond reached -forth his hand, as if to take it, but his superior held it fast; -Raymond felt as if he were suspected of a design upon it, to suppress -it. Therefore he desisted, merely asking, “Was there not a statement of -their intoxication?” - -“Of course.” - -“Their sudden appearance at the gates,--watching the guard turn out for -the officer of the day, and the closing of the gates?” - -“Assuredly.” - -“Then, what else?” Raymond demanded, bewildered. - -“You omitted a circumstance known to no officer but yourself,” said -Mervyn, severely. - -“I mentioned Peters and his illness--isn’t it there?” he could hardly -forbear snatching the paper to see for himself. - -“You did not mention the intrusion of the drummer,” said Mervyn, -sternly. “I overheard the men laughing about it to-day.” - -“Oh, the little drummer’s frolic--that was a trifle,” said Raymond, -trying to smile. - -“You suppressed this matter in your report. It was your duty to report -any unusual circumstances. You will see on this paper under the head of -‘Remarks’ no mention of this circumstance.” - -“Lord, man, it was altogether immaterial!” cried Raymond, excessively -nettled by this reflection on his conduct as an officer. - -“Disorderly behavior, interference with guard-duty, intoxication, -and buffoonery out of place are serious breaches of conduct, of evil -example, and subversive of discipline. These seem to me very material -subjects for report.” - -“Stop me--Mervyn--but you are playing the fool!” cried Raymond, quite -beside himself with rage. - -“I find it my duty as officer of the day in adding my report to the -guard report to mention this failure of duty on your part. And unless -you change your tone, sir, I shall also report you for insolence and -insubordination to your superior officer.” - -His steady, steely look forced a mechanical salute from Raymond as -Mervyn turned away with the same energy of step, burning cheek, and -flashing eye. He resolved within himself that he would be nobody’s -fool, and he certainly looked “nobody’s sheep.” - -Raymond, hurt, amazed, and angry, dashed off across the parade over -the trampled snow, which was melting in the sun and honey-combed with -myriads of dark cells that cancelled all its remaining whiteness. Where -tufts still clung between the points of the stockade that surmounted -the heavy red clay ramparts, it still had its pristine glister and -purity. Now and again great masses slipped down from some roof where -it had clung on the northern exposure, and it was obvious that all -would vanish before the noonday. He hardly paused until he reached the -mess-hall, and when he entered it was with so hasty a step, so absorbed -a mien, that the officers dully loitering there looked up surprised, -expectant of some disclosure or sensation. - -The apartment was spacious and commodious, but ill-lighted, save -for the largess of the great fireplace, where huge logs blazed or -smouldered red and deeply glowing in a bed of ashes. It was of utility -as a block-house, and the loop-holes for musketry served better for -ventilation than illumination. The walls illustrated the prowess of the -mess as sportsmen. They were hung with trophies of the chase,--great -branching horns of elk and deer, a succession of scarlet flamingo -feathers and white swan’s wings, all a-spread in a gorgeous fiction of -flight, and the wide, suggestive pinions of the golden eagle. Among -these were many curios,--quivers, tomahawks, aboriginal pictures -painted on the interior of buffalo hides, quaint baskets, decorated -jugs, and calabashes a kaleidoscopic medley. The red coats of the -officers gave a note of intense color in the flare of the flames. On -a side table were silver candle-sticks and snuffers--where the tapers -of the previous night had not been renewed, and had burned to the -socket--a token of luxury in these rude surroundings, intimating the -soldier alien to the wilds, not the pioneer. A punch-bowl and goblets -of silver gilt, suggestive of post-prandial zest, were on a shelf of -sideboard-like usage. A service of silver and china, with the remnants -of the breakfast, evidently a substantial meal,--trout, and venison, -and honey in the comb, and scones of Indian meal,--was yet on the table -in the lower end of the room, and a belated partaker still plied knife -and fork. - -Raymond might have joined him, for he had not broken his fast, but he -had forgotten physical needs in the tumult of his feelings. He had -great pride in his efficiency as an officer. He had, too, great hopes -of his military career. All that was best and noblest in him vibrated -to the idea of honor, responsibility, fitness for high trusts. He could -not brook a disparagement in these essentials. He felt maligned, his -honor impugned, his fair intentions traduced, that he should be held to -have failed in a point of duty--that he should be made the subject of a -report for negligence or wilful concealment of a breach of discipline. - -He had intended to say nothing of the contention. It seemed a subject -which he could not canvass with the mess. He felt that he could not -lend his tongue to frame the words that he was accused of a failure -of duty. But the languid conversation which had been in progress was -not resumed. Raymond’s tumultuous entrance had proved an obliteration -rather than an interruption of the subject. - -“Anything the matter, Raymond?” asked Lieutenant Jerrold, who had had -a glimpse of the two officers in conversation on the parade. - -“Nothing,” said Raymond. He had flung himself down in one of the huge, -cumbrous, comfortable chairs of the post-carpenter’s construction, -covered by buffalo skins. “That is--well--” - -The eyes of all were upon him, inquisitive but kindly. The yearning for -sympathy, for reassurance, for justification, broke down his reserve. - -“Mervyn, as officer of the day, is going to report me for suppressing a -breach of discipline, as officer of the guard.” - -Only one of the men, the quarter-master, an old campaigner, was -smoking; this habit he had acquired from the Indians, for pipes were -temporarily out of fashion, save the cutty of the lower classes. He was -of a ruder type than the others,--a burly, red-faced, jovial blade, -inclined to be gray, and much disposed to lament what he called the -shrinking of his waistcoat, as he grew portly on fine fare. He took the -long pipe-stem from his lips, lowered the curiously carved bowl, and -looked inquisitively at the young man’s face. - -“Gad-zooks!” incredulously exclaimed the blond young ensign of the name -of Innis. - -The fort-adjutant was an older man, and had seen much service. He was -grave, concerned. He sought a polite palliative. - -“The first time since you have been in the service, I take it.” - -Raymond noticed that none of them was swift to speech. Mervyn’s -disapproval of him carried weight with them all. The thought sent him -wild,--Mervyn, always so dispassionate, so calm, so self-contained, -with good, slow judgment and an impeccant record! In his own defence, -for his own repute, they must know the truth. He leaned forward, -eagerly. - -“Now I put the case to you,--not that I expect you to express any -opinion as between us--” he added, hastily, marking a general -expression of embarrassed negation. “I was officer of the guard, and -about eleven of the clock, the night being very dark and a party of -Indians having been lying down among the stakes of the abattis after -eating a deer they had killed, I took the corporal and two men and -visited the sentry posted on that side of the fort. Then I went out -to where we had seen the bucks, but they had gone. This required some -little time. When I got back to the guard-house I found the men in -great glee. They were laughing and chuckling. They had a secret that -mightily amused them. And, the night being long and the time dull, to -pass it a bit I asked them--like a fool--what the fun was. They didn’t -wish to tell, yet as I have always been fair to them, and considered -their comfort and favored them as far as I could, they didn’t wish to -refuse. So out it came. That little Scotch scamp, Robin Dorn, had leave -to go down to the Scotch trader’s, and it seems the two Sawneys didn’t -drink water. He came back while I was gone, very handsomely fuddled, -I suppose, with two new drum-sticks for which he had been sent. The -sentry at the gate passed him, and the guard-house door was open. In -he flew like a whirlwind, with his new drum-sticks, and beat a rally -on as many heads as he could before they could catch him and pitch him -out into the snow. When I came in a moment later their heads were all -roaring. It was a rough soldier’s joke of a fine relish to them. They -were laughing, and grinning, and plotting to get even with Robin Dorn.” - -There was a languid smile around the circle. - -“Now, if this had happened in my presence, or if I had gained -cognizance of it in any way except as a jest told at my request, for my -amusement, or if it had been material to any interest of the garrison, -I should have mentioned it in my report.” - -“Is this what Mervyn calls your failure of duty?” demanded Bolt, the -fort-adjutant. - -Raymond nodded a silent assent. The others exchanged glances of -surprised comment, and made no rejoinder. - -“In his report as officer of the day,” said Raymond at length, “he -includes this detail among his remarks on my report as officer of the -guard.” - -“Zounds! The commandant can’t take a serious view of a bit of -horse-play behind an officer’s back,” said Lieutenant Jerrold. He -fell to meditating on Mervyn’s priggish arrogations of gentlemanly -perfection, and he rather wondered that he should place himself in the -position of a persecutive martinet. The incident was not without its -peculiar relish to Lieutenant Jerrold. Not that he wished aught of -ill to Ensign Raymond, but he secretly resented, naturally enough, -that he had not been selected instead, as a guest for the dinner of -welcome to the captain’s daughter. Mervyn’s invitation was, of course, -a foregone conclusion--in the double capacity of old friend and close -neighbor. But it seemed to Jerrold that since a make-weight was needed, -he, himself, was heavier metal than Raymond. He felt, in a measure, -passed over, excluded, and the subsequent invitation with the other -officers to play a game of Quadrille hardly made amends, for he claimed -some superior distinction in point of age, in service, in rank, in -personality. He might have been flattered and his wounded self-love -assuaged if he had known that it was for these identical reasons he had -been passed over. Mrs. Annandale had schemed to avoid any interference -with Mervyn’s opportunity to impress the young lady and to be impressed -in turn. She had waived away Jerrold’s name when she had declared -that it would be too personal and particular to invite Mervyn alone, -although as old friend and neighbor she cared only for him,--but since -he was a man of wealth and gilded expectations, she would not like the -officers of the garrison to think she was throwing precious Arabella -at his head. “Doited dear Brother” took instant alarm at this, and -proposed the next in rank--Lieutenant Jerrold. But she objected to so -considerable a man. She had by no means the intention of furnishing -Captain-Lieutenant Mervyn with a rival, after she had come all the way -from England to ensnare him for her niece. - -“Save us!” she had exclaimed. “We don’t want two lieutenants! Send for -some simple little ensign, man; just to balance the table.” - -Her heart had sunk into her shoes when she beheld the face and figure -of the make-weight that Captain Howard, all unconscious of her deep -and subtle schemes, had provided. This Raymond--to balance the table! -But for her own careful exploitation of the evening the dashing ensign -would have unwittingly destroyed every prospect that had lured her -on so long and grievous a journey. She had enough rancor against the -unconscious and dangerous marplot to enable her to receive with great -relish the tidings that he was in disfavor with the commandant, for the -cause, always most reprehensible in a soldier, wilful neglect of duty. - -“Don’t talk to me! There is no excuse for that sort of thing,” she -said, virulently, for Captain Howard was showing great concern for the -incident, and was of the opinion, evidently, that Mervyn might well -have let the matter rest. “I am not a soldier, dear Brother, and know -nothing of tactical details. But reason argues that guard-duty is one -of the dearest trusts of a soldier, and will bear no trifling.” - -“True, true, indeed,” assented Captain Howard. - -“While that rapscallion was playing Killie-crankie on the heads of -those numskulls, the sentry at the gate might have shouted for the -guard in vain. The gate might have been rushed by an enemy--” - -“There was a sentry at the guard-room door who would have heard; it is -his business to notify the guard,” Captain Howard interpolated, but -without effect. Mrs. Annandale went on as if he had not spoken. - -“--and though the officer in charge was within his duty in visiting -distant and exposed sentinels, he should have reported the disturbance -occurring during his absence. No!--no--! Don’t talk to me!” - -“He has the promise of becoming a fine officer, and it irks me to check -and bait him. He means for the best.” - -“Dear Brother, we might be massacred every one, if the service -proceeded on such indulgence to negligence. The rules and regulations -must be observed. The Articles of War ought to be as sacred as the -Thirty-nine Articles of Religion.” - -“True--true--very true--” assented “dear Brother,” for who could -gainsay her. - -She was in earnest hope that for a time no more would be said of the -handsome marplot. So serious, indeed, did she deem his interference -that now that it was removed her spirits mounted high, her wit -sparkled, her flabby, pallid cheek flushed, and her microscopic eyes -glimmered and twinkled among her wrinkles. So distinct was her sense -of carrying all things before her that she did not notice at first -the change in Mervyn’s manner when he called in formal fashion to pay -his respects to his recent host and the ladies of the household. The -transformation was complete--no longer mild, pale, docile of aspect. He -held himself tensely erect; his face was flushed; his eyes glittered -with a light not altogether friendly, even when he turned them upon -the beautiful Arabella. He had not forgotten--he promised himself he -would never forget--the lure by which the artful duenna had made him -believe that he himself was the beloved one of the gypsy’s prophecy, -for which the delighted girl had added a gratuity for pure good -will. His cheek burned when he remembered that Raymond--nay, all the -fireside group--had perceived his agitation, his joyful tremor, yet -a degree of vacillation, and alack, his coxcombical prudery lest one -or the other should openly speak his name. He recognized the whole of -the wily aunt’s scheme to put it into his mind that if he were not -in love with Arabella he might well be, and was thought to be. The -treacherous anti-climax, by which Arabella had interfered to spare his -blushes,--her protestation of adoration of the drawing-master who, he -was persuaded, was fictitious,--had a peculiar bitterness in being -deemed a necessity. Yet in thus thwarting his obvious expectations -and self-consciousness he had been rendered ridiculous in the eyes of -Raymond,--who seemed actually to have the temerity to contemplate a -competition with him for Miss Howard’s favor,--and openly and signally -punished for his self-conceit. They thought too slightingly of him--to -play with him thus. He was neither to be managed by the adroit old -tactician nor flouted by the imperious young beauty. He was remembering -his worldly consequence, which he generally had the magnanimity to -forget,--his expectations, as heir of his grandfather’s title and -estates, for he was the only son of his father, years ago deceased. He -had summoned all his instinct for the social conventions, since he was -too young to have learned worldly wisdom from experience, and was very -definitely asserting himself in a restrained and incidental fashion. -Under no coercion would bluster be practicable for his temperament. - -He was talking of himself--of himself, continually, and Mrs. Annandale -beamed upon him with the most intent solicitude, and Miss Arabella’s -charming hazel eyes expressed a flattering interest. Her pride, too, -had been cut down--was it indeed true that nobody who was _anybody_ -would care for her? - -His grandfather was much on his lips to-day--recent letters had brought -the home news; naught of great moment, he said, eying not the lovely -girl but a clouded cane which he poised with a deft hand, be-ringed -with some costly gauds that he was not wont to wear. There had been a -storm. Some timber was down in the park. His grandfather grudged every -stick. - -“Of course. Trees are such beautiful objects,” said Arabella, -consciously inane, struggling against an embarrassment induced by his -manner and all unaware of a cause for a change. - -“Fairly good-looking, I suppose; but I have seen several here--in the -wilderness. Not a rarity, you know.” - -“Oh, you sarcastic boy!” cried Mrs. Annandale, visibly out of -countenance, and sending her niece a side glance of exhortation and -upbraiding. - -“Even the mere outline is fascinating to me,” said Arabella. “I often -spend hours in delineating merely the tree form in sepia. It is such an -apt expression of the idea of symmetry.” - -This was an unhappy reminder of the incident of the drawing-master. The -two ladies were altogether unperceptive of any subtler significance in -the remark, but with Mervyn it set the recollection rankling anew. - -“For myself, I always thought the park too dense, except, perhaps, -toward the north, but my grandfather reports to me each tree fallen, as -rancorously as if it were a deserter from the main body.” - -“To be sure--to be sure--it will all be yours one day,” said Mrs. -Annandale, clear adrift from her wonted moorings. - -The young man haughtily changed color. “A far day, I earnestly hope,” -he said, gravely. “I never look to it. I am more than content with my -mother’s little property.” - -“Oh, to be sure--to be sure--a handsome provision,” said Mrs. -Annandale, wildly. What was the matter with the conversation--a murrain -on it!--She could have taken Arabella by her handsome shoulders and -shaken her with a will. Every word that the girl spoke was a word -awry. It did not occur to her that the interpretation was inimical. As -for herself she incontinently wished that her tongue were blistered. -For Mrs. Annandale had no leniency for herself unless she were -triumphantly demonstrating her right to consideration. She glanced -about the room nervously for an inspiration. The circle of great -clumsy chairs ranged round the fire, covered with buffalo robes, were -several of them empty--she might have fared better, perhaps, if “dear -Brother,” with his military bluntness, and the direct glance of his -eye, and his candid habit of mind were ensconced in one of them--even -in her extremity she did not wish for Raymond as a reinforcement. -Her adversity, she felt, would be that young villain’s opportunity. -But what lacked she herself? What perversity had metamorphosed this -propitious occasion! It seemed of phenomenal advantage. What more could -she ask! Arabella was lovely in a simple gown of lilac sarcenet, all -sprigged with white violets. Though the bodice was cut low according to -the universal fashion, her neck was covered by a tucker, as behooved -the day-time, but her shoulders gleamed through the sheer muslin and -the tambour embroidery with a fascinating fairness and softness, -enhanced by the modesty of the veiling. Her golden hair was surmounted -by a tiny cap of plaited gauze, also a diurnal adjunct, and her -slender slippered feet rested with dainty incongruousness upon a great -wolf-skin. Her lute, lying in the ample window-seat, for the logs of -the walls were thick, offered no suggestion. - -“The poor lamb would sing off the key in all this commotion,” thought -Mrs. Annandale, venturesome no more. A rustic table, wrought of -twisted grape-vines, thick as a man’s arm, held the young lady’s open -work-box, full of skeins of silks, and beside it her embroidery-frame. -On a large and clumsy table in the centre of the floor was a silver -tankard, emblazoned with the family arms, and a pair of goblets, -showing handsomely on a scarlet blanket utilized as a table cover, -wrought with beads and porcupine quills, a foot and a half in depth. -The usual frontier decorations on the walls were buffalo hides, painted -in aboriginal art, quivers, blankets, baskets, Indian head-dresses, and -collars of swan’s feathers, and on the mantel-piece, decorated jugs and -bowls, with Captain Howard’s swords crossed above them. Still above was -a small oval portrait of Arabella when she was a smiling, rosy infant. -Mrs. Annandale’s hard little eyes softened as they rested upon it. - -This affection for her elder niece was the only proof that Mrs. -Annandale had or had ever had a heart. Her husband, an ill-advised -country squire, who wanted a clever wife and got her, gave up the -enigma of life and died within the year. The jointure was the only -certain reason why she had married him, for obviously she had not -wanted a clever husband. But to this motherless niece, her whole -nature paid tribute. She could not be said to soften--for she grew -hard, and keen, and tough in endurance in Arabella’s interest. The -trust which her brother had confided to her was not misplaced. Her -acumen, her vigilance, her training, all exerted to one end, had -resulted in a charming and finished product of feminine education. And -now the schemer was looking to the future. The war was over; leave -of absence was granted in profusion to the officers whose duty had -been so nobly done. George Mervyn at home would be surrounded with -all the match-making wiles which lure an unexceptionable young man, -already well endowed with this world’s goods and the heir to a title -and a fortune. The gay world would be a pleasant place for him. He was -docile, tractable, and the delight of his grandsire’s heart, and if the -youth had no special ambitions to gratify in marriage, which his quiet, -priggish, restrained manner seemed to promise, be sure Sir George -Mervyn would not be without mercenary designs on his account. The old -man would say the boy was good enough, well-born enough, handsome -enough, wealthy enough, to deserve well of matrimonial fate. He should -have a beautiful and richly dowered bride, and become, with these -accessories of fortune and importance, preëminent among the magnates -of the country-side. Thus Mrs. Annandale had beheld with prophetic -dismay the septuagenarian’s gallant attentions to Miss Eva Golightly -at the supper-table of the county ball, and thus it was that she had -determined to intercept George Mervyn’s unpledged heart, still in his -own keeping, in the frontier fastnesses of America. Moreover, Sir -George Mervyn, as tough as one of the English oaks whose downfall he -deplored, was as old in his type of creation--his downfall as certain. -His grandson would one day be summoned home to assume the title and -inherit the estates, and in the nature of things that day could not be -far distant. - -How well the primordium of her schemes had fared--the successful -journey, the eager welcome, the ample leisure, all the possibilities -that propinquity might betoken! But suddenly a distortion like the -dislocations of a dream had befallen her symmetrical plan. The young -officer had seemed yesterday the ingenuous, pliable, confiding youth -she remembered of yore. He had showed her an almost affectionate -respect; for Captain Howard he evidently entertained a deep regard and -appreciation; the beautiful young lady whom he had last seen as a mere -schoolgirl had roused in him a delighted admiration and an earnest -solicitude to monopolize her society. While to-day he was haughty, -stiff, only conventionally deferential, disposed to consider himself, -and with no inclination to converse on any other topic. - -The pause frightened Mrs. Annandale. It was a provocation to terminate -a formal call. She bolted at the nearest subject in hand. - -“Who is your friend, Mr. Raymond?” she asked. Then the recollection of -the difficulty that had arisen between the two young men smote her with -the aim of a bolt of lightning. - -Mervyn cast a keen glance at her, but she held her pinched little -features well together and gave no sign. A very small face she had, -with but little expression, and but little was required of it. - -“I thought I heard him giving you his autobiography the other evening,” -he said with a formal, frosty smile. - -“Oh, but we need the estimate of a friend to come at the truest truth,” -she opined, sagely. - -“I could add nothing to what he has already said,” Mervyn replied -succinctly. And Mrs. Annandale felt as if reproved as a gossip, baffled -in the hope of slander, and disregarded as a cynic. - -She hardly knew where to turn. In desperation she gave up the personal -conduct of the action. - -“Why do you two young people sit moping in the house this fine day?” -she cried. “Arabella, why don’t you ask Captain Mervyn to take you to -walk on the ramparts? He will not let the cannon bite you, and the snow -is almost gone!” - -She glanced at the young officer with her coercive smile, and certainly -he could not refuse. He rose instantly--“At your service,” he said, -turning with a polite bow to the young lady. - -The demonstration certainly had not the eager enthusiastic urgency with -which he had offered to show her the fort when she first arrived;--it -hardly suggested an appreciation of the prospect of a delightful walk -with a charming young lady, nor expressed gratitude for an unexpected -pleasure and honor conferred upon him. Mrs. Annandale restrained her -sentiments till the two young people were fairly out of the house; then -her first sensation was one of rejoicing that the window was so small -and the glass so thick that she might unobserved shake her fist at him -as he walked away. - -“I’d like to gnaw your bones,” she said, unaware how savage she looked. -Then she narrowed her eyes intently to mark if Arabella’s pelisse did -not hang short in the back, much relieved to perceive a moment later -that the suggested calamity was merely the result of her leaning a -trifle forward as she ascended the ramp of the barbette to reach the -level of the terre-pleine. Mervyn had courteously offered his hand to -assist her. - -“Throttle him!” muttered the fierce little duenna. But the folds of -the pelisse swung back in place as Arabella stood erect on the rampart -and looked about her with interest. A violet-hued cloth was the fabric -of this garment, and it was trimmed about the edges with a narrow -band of swan’s-down. A hood of like material was on her head, and the -glitter of her golden hair, rolled high, was framed by white down like -some lingering wreath of the snow. It had indeed disappeared; the -ramparts were clear; the foot-path hard-trodden; the banquettes beside -the parapet, where the soldiers were wont to stand to fire through -loop-holes in the stockade, still dripped, having been shaded by the -high pointed stakes when the sun shone. - -“You can have little view here, except the ulterior of the fort,” -Mervyn said, as they strolled along. So disillusioned, so disaffected -was he that he was quite open to the fact that a walk with Arabella -along the ramparts was but a device of Mrs. Annandale’s, and of no -interest in itself. - -“I have a glimpse of the mountains above the stockade, and I am -breathing the sun, not the fire.” - -“Very true,” assented Mervyn. “The sun is a welcome visitor--a rare -honor.” - -Arabella had a fair share of pride, of enterprise in a way. Too -inexperienced to understand her aunt’s schemes, too affectionate to -divine them, she only realized that this young man was holding his head -higher than became him in her company, and that her aunt seemed to -regard him as somehow rated superior to her station, and incidentally -to her. She had an aptitude for ascendency--she could not look up. -Her neck, too, was stiff. And she did not find Mervyn amusing on his -pedestal. Moreover, if he valued his peace he must come down. - -“How little did I ever think in England I should some day walk along -the rampart of a fort in America with you,”--she turned her suave and -smiling eyes upon him, and he almost melted for the nonce. - -“None of us can read the future,” he rejoined at random. And straight -the unlucky recollection of the gypsy’s prophecy smote him anew. - -The men in the galleries of the barracks, and others pitching -horse-shoes in lieu of quoits near the stable precincts, all marked -the lady with interest and admiration, a rare apparition indeed in -these far wilds, and noted without wonder the prideful port of the -captain-lieutenant, in such charming company. - -“A-pea-cockin’ along loike a major-general, be-dad!” the warder in the -tower vouchsafed in a whisper to the sentry below. - -She could not account for Mervyn’s lofty and distant air--he, who used -to be, who seemed indeed but yesterday, an unassertive and modest youth. - -“Are there any fish in this river?” she asked as passing one of the -embrasures she saw above the cannon the steely gleam of the Keowee, -stretching out to the defiles of the mountains, which were splendidly -purple and crowned with opalescent mists that shimmered with an intense -white glister when they caught the sheen of the westering sun. - -“The fish are hardly worth the taking,” he returned, disparagingly. - -“Do you remember the flies I made for you when you came home that -Easter with Cousin Alfred?” she suggested, glancing up a trifle coyly. -He hesitated to seem ungrateful. - -“Oh, yes. Fine flies--beautiful flies,” he replied at random, for -indeed he had forgotten them,--he was almost a young man at the time, -and had taken scant note of the little girl yet in the schoolroom. - -She was laughing quietly to herself, as she stood gazing out for a -moment on the scene--for she had made them no flies; they had sought -her assistance, and she had denied them. - -“What amusements have they in this country?” she demanded, as she began -to walk on slowly, and he kept step at her side. - -“Well--scalpings, and burnings, and the torture are the most striking -recreations of the country,” he said, perversely. - -“You can’t make me afraid of the Indians,” she returned, lifting her -head proudly, “while my father is in command.” - -He had a sudden appalled realization of the limitations of the -commandant’s power in which she trusted so implicitly; he was -recollecting that her father’s predecessor in command, Captain -Coytmore, had been treacherously slaughtered by the Cherokees in a -conference at the gate of this fort, within twenty paces of the spot -where she now stood. - -“I did not mean to alarm you,” he said hastily. - -“I _know_ you didn’t.” She cast on him a look seeming full of sweet -generosity. “You only meant to be witty.” - -“An unappreciated jest. Apparently I did not succeed.” - -“You are not of that caliber,” she suggested. - -He was not pleased that she should express her judgment of his mental -endowments. His nerves were all tense and vibrated with keen dissonance -at every unconsidered touch. Nevertheless it was impossible not to -reply in kindred vein. - -“Do you allude to a large or a small caliber?” he revolted at the -question. - -“It depends on the charge--too large for some--too small for others.” - -“I feel as if I were guessing riddles,” he said, floutingly. - -“Life is a riddle--a dark riddle, and there is no answer this side of -eternity,” she returned, seriously. - -“Now I am hearing a sermon. Do you often preach?” he asked, mockingly. - -“What are they going to do about the dear old missionary?” she queried, -suddenly. “The poor old man who is risking his life among the Indians -to bring their souls to salvation!” - -“The commandant will request him to come down here to Fort Prince -George, and leave their souls to their deserts. He is sending a boat up -to-morrow. I think he goes with it to use his influence in person.” - -“Papa--is going--” She paused in dismay. - -“It is not far; there is no danger for him; he takes an escort.” - -“And he will leave _me_ here?” She spoke tremulously, half to herself. -She could hardly rest without the sense of the puissant paternal -protection. - -“His influence at Little Tamotlee is necessary,” explained Mervyn. “The -Indians have great regard for him. His presence there will avert danger -from the post,--Fort Prince George,--and may actually be necessary to -save the old missionary’s life.” - -“Then--who is to be left in command at Fort Prince George?” she asked. - -“I shall be in command here, being next in rank.” - -She still paused, facing him as they stood together on the rampart. She -had turned a little pale. The breeze blowing gently from the shining -river ruffled the tendrils of the hair on her forehead beneath the -white fur of her violet hood and lifted the one long, soft golden curl -that hung between its strings on her left shoulder. The simple attire, -the wistful look, the doubtful, tremulous pause, made her seem very -young, and appealing, and tender. - -“You will be in command?” she repeated, interrogatively. Then--“Take -care of Aunt Claudia,” she said, urgently. “Take care of--me.” - -“I will, indeed,” he cried, heartily, wholly won. “Trust me, I will -indeed!” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - - -When the rescuing party set forth the following day, Arabella and her -aunt, with much perplexity and disapproval of frontier methods, watched -through an embrasure on the southern bastion the boats pulling down the -river. The men of the escort were evidently in the highest spirits; -great hilarity prevailed amongst those warned for duty as they ran to -and fro on the parade and in and out of the barracks, making their -preparations for the expedition. They were loud of voice, calling -directions, suggestions, admonitions, hither and thither, in clear, -resonant tones; swift of movement, hardly a step taken that was not at -a double-quick. They were notably clean and dapper of aspect, in their -cocked hats, red coats, long leggings, drawn high over the trousers, -and white cross-belts, glittering from the effects of pipe-clay, their -hair in stiff plaited queues, decorously powdered. - -“And not one of them knows whether he will have so much as his own -scalp to bring home with him, by the time this fashionable, aboriginal -Drum is over,” remarked Mrs. Annandale. “I always thought that men are -constitutionally knaves, my dear, but I begin to fear, I greatly fear, -they are instead constitutionally fools.” - -They were obviously regarded with envy by their stay-at-home comrades, -and there was a sort of sullen plaint in the very glance of the -eye of the silent sentinels at their various posts as the details -of the preparations passed within the range of their vision. The -quarter-master-sergeant and the cooks were enjoying great prominence, -and were the centre of much of the fluster and bustle. The chief of -this department, however, the quarter-master, himself, who conferred -from time to time with Captain Howard, seemed to harbor the only -despondent sentiments entertained pending the packing. It was necessary -to jog his memory more than once touching supplies that were more -luxuries than necessities, which had been required by the commandant, -and especially was this the case in regard to the contents of the -great budgets made up for the presents to Tamotlee Town, which Captain -Howard intended to convey with the party. The quarter-master gave an -irritated shake of his big round head and his big red face, as if this -demonstration were officially necessary to the pained and reluctant -relinquishment of his charge, as he stood in the precincts of his -store-room, a great log building illumined from a skylight that the -walls might be utilized by shelves from top to bottom, and with many -barrels and boxes and sacks of various commodities ranged along the -floor, narrow aisles permitting a passage. More than once, the sergeant -and his assistant, both handsomely be-floured and be-sugared in their -haste, fostering awkward handling, were fain to say--“An’ the terbaccy, -sor?” - -“Oh, Gad!--as if they didn’t have tobacco of their own and to spare--” -he cried out. Then in a weakened voice--“How many pounds does the list -call for, Peters?” - -“Then the brandied sweetmeats, sor?” The sergeant made toward a series -of jars, brought expressly for the delectation of the officers and by -no means intended for the rank and file. - -“Hell!” The quarter-master squeaked out the exclamation as if it had -laid hold on him and half choked out his voice. “_They_ ain’t on the -list? Lord! the commandant is clean crazed! The Injuns have got no -palates. They can’t taste.” - -The sergeant cocked up a beguiling eye at his chief and smacked his -lips. - -“Them brandied cher’s, sor, is sthrong enough, an’ swate enough to make -’em grow a palate a-purpose,” he said. - -“And how do _you_ know?” demanded the quarter-master, suddenly intent. - -“Faix, sor, yez remember that one of the jars was bruken in onpackin’, -an’ only half full. An’ though Peters said glass wuz pizin, an’ -wouldn’t tech ’em--sure, sor, I thought a man cudn’t die in a sweeter -way!” And once more he smacked his lips. - -“There’s a case-bottle of brandy for Rolloweh,”--the quarter-master’s -face fell as he gazed at the list on the head of a barrel. “Why, ’tis -known that the Injuns will drink pepper vinegar as soon as sherry wine! -And a jug of raspberry shrub--the finest ever made, I’ll swear. Get ’em -out. Get ’em out!”--and once more he stood over the commodities, and -eyed them funereally, and shook his head in melancholy farewell. - -“And the cheeses, sor. Would ut be convanient fur yer honor to furgit -the cheeses?” suggested the sergeant with a roguish eye. - -“What?--not at all--not at all,” said the quarter-master, out of -countenance, nevertheless. - -“Thin, sor, if yez be aimin’ to presarve yer memory, there’s a box o’ -snuff--fine Rappee--at the top of the list, passed by.” - -“Get it out! Get it out!” said the quarter-master, pacing back and -forth, as if preoccupied, in the narrow aisle between the baled goods, -his red face grave and bent, his portly figure erect, his hands clasped -behind him, with the list held carelessly in his fingers. - -“I’ll engage the commandant niver thinks how low the sthore is -running,” suggested the sergeant. - -“And if we get out--out we will be; for the government will send no -more goods here, and we just awaiting orders to evacuate and march for -Charlestown. Have you finished--the order filled? Then call the boat’s -crew and get it aboard.” - -They were embarked at last, the oars striking the water with a -masterful impact, the boats then skimming off like a covey of birds -with wings spread. There went first the commandant and his escort, -followed by the pettiaugre laden with the necessaries for the -expedition, and lastly by the Indian delegation, who had come afoot -of their own motion, and were now going back at the expense of Fort -Prince George with transportation furnished. Very drunk several of them -were, all a trifle unsteadied by the signal success of their mission, -and the fervor of the hospitality of Fort Prince George. To their -own place in his estimation they ascribed Captain Howard’s instant -concession to their demand, the compliment of his official presence -on this mission, their return to their confrères in this triumphant -state, and they pridefully interpreted the desire of the government -to preserve the peace as fear still entertained of the prowess of the -Indian. They took no heed of the commandant’s solicitude for the life -of the old missionary. - -Captain Howard felt justified in bestirring himself smartly for the -rescue of the old man. - -“It is for the obvious good of the frontier and in the interest of the -government, for one murder now would be the precursor of an outbreak,” -he had said in a council of the officers summoned the previous morning; -“and I am glad that it is thus, for I cannot in conscience, in -humanity, leave the old missionary to his horrible fate. The thought -would not let me sleep a wink last night.” - -He was cheerful and hilarious now as he sat in the stern, listening to -the orders to the crews. The voices carried far on the water, echoed by -the crags on either bank, then striking back from the foothills of the -mountains, which were marshalled in close defiles on each side further -and further along the reaches of the river. He took scant notice of -other echoes--the mouthings and mockings of young braves of the Indian -town of Keowee on the opposite bank, as they ran glibly along in a line -with the craft, yelling in their broken English,--“Let fall!--Give -way!--Back oars!--Keep stroke!” as the orders successively rang over -the water. - -On shore to the two watching women on the bastion, gazing through the -embrasure, this demonstration seemed queerly rancorous, and as inimical -as uncouth. They noted that the delegation in the boat, who had been -so honored, so generously entreated, took up the fantastic flout and -continued it even after the mockings from along shore had flagged and -failed. When the crew of soldiers began to sing, after the time-honored -custom of the pettiaugre afloat, and the crude young voices rang out -not inharmoniously in a strong and hearty chorus, the Indian guests -interpolated derisive comments as they followed--now a short howl, now -a cry of _Hala! Hala!_ now a bleat, as of sheep, now the crowing of -cocks--a raillery little suggestive of mirth or rollicking good-humor. -The soldiers seemed as disregardful as if they did not hear, and bent -to the oars with a will. The commandant never turned his head. But his -sister and daughter looked at each other with an aghast questioning -stare, to which neither could suggest a consolatory response. - -Arabella seemed all the more slender and willowy in her long violet -pelisse, with its edge of soft white down, as she stood beside the -little lady, who was bundled in a thick coat of gray, lined and -bordered with squirrel fur. She had a great calash to match, and as -she peered out with her preternaturally sharp eyes with their furtive -glance, she looked not unlike some keen little animal of no great -strength, perhaps, but capable of some sharp exploit of mischief. - -The craft of the expedition became visible once more far across the -wooded spur of a hill which the steely river rounded. The sun on the -stream was so bright that the three boats, skimming the dazzling -surface, seemed as if they were airily afloat on floods of light -instead of the denser medium of water. Still the singing sounded, -richly, still the echoes answered clear, and once and again the harsh -note of derision marred the harmony. Then they were gone, and the woods -were silent. The fragment of a stave--a hesitant echo--the vague impact -of an oar on water--! No more. - -“They are gone!” said Arabella, turning to her aunt, a sort of -desolation in her fair young face. - -“Yes--I don’t see them now.” Mrs. Annandale had already turned to -descend the ramp, and the captain-lieutenant remembered with a start to -offer her his hand. He himself filled now the field of vision of the -little schemer, though he had only eyes for Arabella. She came lightly -down the steep incline without assistance, and once more he noted the -pallid suspense in her face, the dilation of anxiety in her beautiful -eyes. He had long ago been inured to the fierce suspense of frontier -life, but he appreciated that to her untried heart it had all the -poignancy of a realized grief. He sought to divert her attention. - -“I have a favor to ask of you, ladies.” - -Mrs. Annandale paused as she trudged stoutly along on the miry ground -and glanced up keenly from out her fur. - -“An invitation to dine and spend the evening with you,” he continued. - -The old lady, a benign glow stirring in her stanch heart, had yet the -tact to plod silently for a few minutes. - -“You want to see how dull an evening can be--for we are in no case to -be merry,” she said. - -“I want to show you how we spend the intervals of suspense on the -frontier--how we pass the time as best we may--and hold up our hearts.” - -“But we did not bargain for this--for suspense--on the frontier,” -plained Arabella. “Did we, Aunt Claudia?” - -The fur head of the little animal in advance wagged in earnest -corroboration. “They told me the war was over,” she said, without -turning, “--and _me_--so timid!” - -“You have nothing but your unfounded fears to frighten you,” he urged. -“There is no danger--nothing to frighten you--nothing threatening. You -are not used to the manners of the Indians, that is all!” - -“Manners! they have no manners, drat ’m!” exclaimed Mrs. Annandale, -remembering the marred melody of the boat-song. - -“You have not been here to agonize over Captain Howard even when there -was real war,” he persisted. - -“Ah, but we couldn’t realize how strange--how uncertain--how -dangerous, till we see something of it!” Arabella declared. - -“You see nothing of it--this is absolutely nothing.” - -“Why, I tremble to think even of the others,” said Arabella, and Mrs. -Annandale had a sudden recollection of the distant figure of Raymond in -a gallant pose as he stood in the bow of the foremost boat, taking off -his cocked hat and bowing low to Arabella as he glimpsed her standing -by the cannon at the embrasure, while the boat passed slowly beyond the -range of the bastion. - -“Yes--yes--and that dear good man, the missionary. When the Reverend -Mr. Morton comes to Fort Prince George, precious love, you must -embroider for him a sermon-case or a silk poor-bag.” - -“I fancy a man who wants to save Indians’ souls doesn’t care for gauds -of embroidery, and the poor don’t get much comfort from a fine silk -bag,” said Arabella, with sudden contumacy. - -Mrs. Annandale swiftly put her in the wrong. - -“Oh, my own, don’t reflect on the minister for trying to save the souls -of Indians. God made them, child, God made them. Humanly speaking, -He might have done better. But everything has a purpose. Perhaps -Providence created them with souls, and no manners, to give the Mr. -Mortons of this life something to do, to keep them going up and down in -the waste places where the Indians are safely out of sight of civilized -people--except fools who journey from London to see how near they can -come to being scalped without losing hair or hide. Oh, no, my dear; -realize human limitations and never, _never_ reflect on the purposes of -creation.” - -Mervyn, noticing the frowning cogitation on Arabella’s fair brow as she -listened, interposed in his own interest--“All this is aside from the -question. May I come in to dinner?” - -Once again Mrs. Annandale vacillated, and Arabella, marking her -hesitation, was a little ashamed of a suspicion she had entertained. -She had fancied that, although her aunt had said that Mervyn was far -too highly placed and too richly endowed with worldly goods to make a -possible parti for her, there had been some scheme in Mrs. Annandale’s -mind, nevertheless, to try for his capture. Now as he fairly begged for -an hour of her society the old lady doubted, and hesitated, and was -hardly hospitable to her old friend’s grandson and her neighbor. She -even began to make terms with him. - -“You won’t want to fetch over with you any of the villains at the -mess-hall? For I don’t know what is the state of the larder--or if we -have _anything_ to eat.” - -“No--no, only myself, madam. And I’ll bring my own dinner, if you like.” - -“What have you got for dinner?” Mrs. Annandale asked as she stood on -the step of the commandant’s quarters, and looked over her shoulder -with a benign jocosity. - -“The finest trout you ever tasted, madam,” he protested. “Do let me -send them in to you.” - -“I thought you said yesterday that the fish in this river are hardly -worth the taking,” the young lady interrupted, surprised. - -Mervyn colored a trifle, remembering his perversity during the morning -walk of the day before. - -“Oh, I was sad--and rather bad,” he remarked. - -Her aunt had disappeared within, and she put her foot on the step where -her relative had just stood. It brought her face almost on a level with -his, and the gaze of her beautiful eyes at these close quarters was -rather bewildering. - -“It is very bad for you to be sad,” she said softly, and his heart beat -so fast and so loud that he feared she might hear it. “And it is very -sad for you to be bad,” she stipulated, and went smiling into the house -with a languid relish of her jest. - -He followed into the parlor, begging Mrs. Annandale for the coveted -invitation, protesting that what he wanted was a bit of talk to keep -them all from being lonely, and--with a glance at the lute on the -window-seat--to hear the new songs they were singing at Vauxhall -Gardens and Ranelagh, and to hear the old songs that Arabella used to -sing down in Kent. Might he come? And might he send the fish? - -“No supper--no song,” Mrs. Annandale at last assented, and Mervyn went -off in a glow of happiness to confer cautiously with the officer of -the day, to order the great gate closed, to himself inspect the guard -and visit each sentinel, to climb to the warder’s tower and thence -gaze over the great spaces of the picturesque country--the stretches -of mountains looming purple and dark, save where the residuum of -snow still glimmered in a deep ravine, the river between the silent -hills, the fluctuating lights of Keowee Town on the opposite side of -the stream, and the stars whitely a-gleam in the great concave of the -sky, all clear, save to the west, where a dark cloud, voluminous, -of variant degrees of density and with flocculent white verges, was -slowly rising above the horizon. It held rain--mayhap wind. It would -strike the rescue expedition before it would reach Fort Prince George. -But Mervyn’s interests were within the work. He personally looked -to every precaution for its safety before, arrayed anew with great -particularity, he repaired to the commandant’s quarters, whither his -dish of fish had preceded him. - -Arabella, sick at heart, nervous and anxious, sitting in her own room -with her aunt before the wood fire, with every detail of its scant -and simple furnishings reminding her of the love and care of her -father and his thought and devices with such meagre materials for her -comfort,--the rose-tinted hangings, the large mirror, so difficult -to transport through the wilderness, the chairs and tables, each -constructed by his orders,--felt that she could hardly support the -ordeal of an evening with a stranger--at least a comparative stranger. -She wished the occasion to be one of scant ceremony. She said to her -aunt that she intended to appear in the dress she had worn throughout -the day. - -“I have no mind for bedizenment and festivity,” she complained. “My -head aches. I can hear those savage yells every time I listen.” - -“Then--don’t listen,” interpolated her aunt. - -“And I can see--” she pressed her hands to her eyes--“can see those -boats pushing out from the shore--taking the soldiers off into the -shining water--who knows where!” - -“They tell me the town’s fiendish name is Little Tamotlee,” put in Mrs. -Annandale. - -“I can see the first pettiaugre with my father in the stern and Ensign -Raymond standing in the prow, and waving his hat to me and--” - -“Captain Howard is able to take care of himself,” Mrs. Annandale -interrupted hastily, “and if Ensign Raymond is not--so much the worse -for him! Has that besom laid out my frock yet?” She lifted her voice -for the edification of Norah in the outer room. - -“And you will excuse me, Aunt, if I don’t change my dress?” Arabella -said, plaintively. - -“I don’t suppose it would hurt the young man’s feelings,” Mrs. -Annandale affected to consider. “He is too sodden in pride--those -Mervyns all are. I suppose he _might_ think, as we are so poor, that -you have but a frock or two. Well, it is none of _his_ business how -little money Captain Howard can spare for your maintenance.” - -“Oh, Aunt Claudia!” cried Arabella, genuinely offended--“if you think -_that_!--And what are you wearing? Your murrey-colored satin?” - -Thus it was that the young lady was resplendent in silver-shot gray -paduasoy, shoaling and shimmering with white lights, made with short -puffed sleeves slashed with cerise velvet, and she wore a fillet -of cerise velvet in her golden hair. A delicate fichu of filmy -Mechlin lace was draped over her shining neck and was caught with -shoulder-knots of cerise velvet. She cast a very imperious glance upon -Mervyn as she entered the parlor, which challenged his homage, but she -had no need to assert her pride, for he was again in his old docile -character, assuming naught of pre-eminence because of his worldly -advantages, satisfied to bask in her smiles, yet a trifle conscious of -his personal endowments, and carrying himself with a species of gallant -self-confidence not displeasing in a handsome youth. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - - -It was Captain Howard’s faithful belief that a good cook was as -important to the commander of a garrison as an efficient fort-adjutant. -The soup was redolent of sherry; the trout had been prepared with an -earnest solicitude that might be accounted prayer, and made a fine show -arranged on a bed of water-cress that had sprouted before the late -snows; the lamb, a rarity on the frontier, sent up an aromatic incense -of mint sauce. All the brandied cherries had not gone as gifts to the -Indians. A tart of preserved fruits, served with cream from a cherished -cow, found friends all around the board; and a charming dish of -Floating Island was so submerged in brandy that Mrs. Annandale opined -it might be called--“Half seas over.” - -One might not have divined that Mrs. Annandale’s sharp truculence in -orders and admonitions had added wings to the swiftness of the cook -and roused him to accomplish his utmost. She looked suave and benign -as she presided in festival array over the feast that did the quarters -so much honor. All was jollity and genial good fellowship as the three -ranged themselves around the table. The two tall silver candle-sticks, -with their wax candles, lighted up smiling faces as they looked at one -another across the well-spread board, which so definitely belied Mrs. -Annandale’s pretended solicitude for the state of the commandant’s -larder. - -There was something singularly home-like in the informal little feast, -and it appealed gratefully to the sentiment of the young soldier who -had seen naught of home for three long years. He laughed at Mrs. -Annandale’s sallies and made bold to fling them back at her. He -explained with long-winded and eager diligence all frontier conditions -that seemed to impress Arabella. He talked of his immediate future -after his return to England, his plans for the next few years, with -an intimate expectation of their responsive interest which sent a -glow to the pallid cheek of the wily tactician, for it was as if in -his anticipation they shared in these events. She doubted if Arabella -perceived this collocation of his ideas--she was sure that he was -not aware how definitely he had expressed them to her intuitive -comprehension. But she could piece together the thought in his mind -with the suggestion in his speech, and the coherence combined in the -augury of the fulfilment of her dearest dream. They sat long at table; -the candles had burned so low that Mrs. Annandale was fain to cock her -head like a sparrow as she peeped around the blaze. - -“My certie,” she exclaimed at last, “you cannot sit till midnight over -your bottle when you come to dine with two lone lorn women. Clear away -the dishes, man--” (this to the servant), “and don’t let them clatter, -if you want whole bones.” - -And when they were all gone,--disappearing as silently as crockery -could,--and the three were about the fire once more, the lute was -brought, and Arabella sang the songs of home to the exiles. Out at the -door the sentinel, always posted at the commanding officer’s quarters, -paused on his beat and stood still to listen, spell-bound. The grand -rounds, returning along the ramparts, slackened their march to hear -the tinkling vibrations and the dulcet, romantic, melancholy voice, -that seemed somehow of kinship with the moonlight, a-glimmer outside, -on the great bastion; with the loneliness of the vast wilderness; with -the vague lilting rune of the river; with the mournful undertone of the -wind, rising in the distance. - -George Mervyn felt at the blissful portal of an earthly paradise, as -yet too sacred to enter, but in his tremors, his delighted expectancy, -his tender visions, there was no stir of doubt. He felt her demand -of homage; more than once this day he had been sensible of her power -intentionally exerted upon him. She desired him to fall at her feet. -Now and again her eyes warned him that he should not think less of -her than her large meed. And then the wistful sweetness when she had -besought his care! It was hers--it should be hers for life! There -seemed even now but a word to speak between them. He watched her as she -sat glimmering in silver and white, half in the shadow, half in the -light, the lute in her hand, her graceful head and neck bent forward, -her eyes on the fire. The song ended; the strings ceased to vibrate; -the echo stirred and failed and there was a long pause, while the -firelight flashed, and the walls glowed, and the white feathery ash -shifted lightly in the stronger draught of the fire, for the wind was -rushing in at the crevices of the window, drawing with the heated air -up the great chimney. The sentinels as they walked their beats outside -noted its gathering strength, and glanced from time to time toward -the sky, mindful of the sombre, fateful portent of the great cloud in -the west that now reached near the zenith, the moonlight showing the -tumult and trouble of its convolutions, its densities, its cavernous -recesses, the subtleties of the variations of its shoaling tints, from -the deepest purple through all the gamut of color to the edges of -glistening gray. - -Suddenly there came a deafening crash. A vivid white flash flickered -through the room. The next moment the loud rote of the echoes of the -thunder was reverberating through the mountain defiles; the surging of -the wind sounded like the engulfing turmoils of a tidal wave, and the -rain beat tumultuously on the roof. - -Mrs. Annandale, all unaware of the coming tempest, by reason of the -curtained window and her own absorptions, sprang to her feet with a -wild little cry of blended terror and temper, and Arabella, pressing -her hands to her eyes, let the lute slip from her lap to the floor, -where its impact sent out a hollow dissonance. Mervyn had stooped to -pick it up when Mrs. Annandale clutched him by the arm. - -“Why didn’t you tell me a storm was coming?” she demanded. - -“Dear madam, I did not know it myself,” said Mervyn, gently, yet -nevertheless constrained to smile. So does a superiority to the fears -of others elate the soul that he did not even shrink from the claw-like -grip that the skinny fingers of the little woman was making felt even -among the tough muscles of his stalwart arm. “Believe me, there is no -danger.” - -He spoke in the random way in which men see fit to reassure a terrified -woman or child. Seldom is the insincerity of this haphazard benevolence -so signally exposed as in the next moment when an insupportable, -white, sinister brilliance filled the room, a terrific crash stunned -their ears, and the ashes and coals from the fireplace were scattered -in showers about the apartment, the bolt evidently having struck the -chimney. - -“Oh!--oh!--you wicked man!--(where’s my sal volatile!) to mislead your -old friend and neighbor! No danger! No danger! Why, the powers of the -air cried out upon your deceits!” she exclaimed, between sniffs at the -hartshorn in a little gilded bottle that hung from a chain about her -waist. - -There seemed a vast incongruity between Mervyn’s mild short-comings and -the tumultuous rebukes of the thunder as it rolled about the house. -Despite his duplicity he was esteemed by the old lady the most reliable -support attainable against the anger of the elements, and she clung to -one arm, while he held the lute in the other hand. As he turned to note -how far the coals had been scattered on the puncheons, the instrument -struck the back of a chair and the blow elicited a plaintive susurrus -of protest. At the unexpected sound Mrs. Annandale gave a galvanic -start so violent that it seemed as if it might have dislocated every -bone in her body. - -“Man alive!” she exclaimed, irritably, upon observing the cause of the -sound, “put the dratted thing down--somewhere--anywhere! Do you think -this is a time to go perking and majoring around, like a troubadour!” - -One might have thought the lute was hot, so quickly did Mervyn let -it slide upon the table. Then with a certain air of importance, for -he was not accustomed to be rated in this tone, and infinitely did -he deprecate ridicule in the presence of Arabella, he said, “Let me -conduct you to a chair, Mrs. Annandale; you would be more comfortable -seated.” - -Despite her nerves and terror the little lady detected the change in -his tone, and made haste to insinuate her apology. - -“Oh, child--child!” she said, gazing up artfully at him. “You do not -know what it is to be afraid--you are the very spirit and frame of a -soldier! But me--Lord!--I _am_ so timid!” - -And with another flash and crash she clung to him anew. - -As far as a mere matter of good-nature might go, Mervyn would not have -hesitated to sacrifice his comfort or pleasure to the terrors with -which he could not sympathize; he would have permitted her indefinitely -whatever solace she derived from her painful grip upon his arm. But -he had become alert to the idea of ridicule. He was aware that he -cut a farcical figure as he stood in the pronounced elegance of his -attire,--his brilliant gold-laced uniform, his powdered hair, the -delicate, costly lace at throat and wrist, his silk stockings and -gold-buckled shoes,--in the custody of the ancient lady, clinging -frantically to his arm, and berating him as she would. At all events -he had been subjected to the situation in Arabella’s presence as long -as he had a mind to endure it. Mrs. Annandale felt very definitely -the firmness of his intention under the gentle touch as he contrived -to unloose her clutch, and holding the tips of her fingers with a -courtly gesture he led her across the room and to a seat. She sank -down with a sense of luxury amidst the soft folds of the buffalo rug -that covered it, but she relinquished his arm reluctantly. She felt -the need of something alive to cling to--a fold of the buffalo rug did -not answer; something to clutch that could tingle and respond with -sympathy. Suddenly she caught at the chain that hung from her waist and -supported her fan, her pomander-box, and a bunch of trinkets of more or -less utility, and sounded a silver whistle--a dulcet, seductive tone -all incongruous with the service to which it summoned. This man was no -better than a lay-figure, she said scornfully within herself,--a mere -bit of padding, tricked out in the latest military style! He hadn’t -enough mortality about him to feel the electric thrills in the air. He -could not hear the thunder, he could not see the lightning,--and for -her own part she wished it might strike close enough to tickle him, and -to tickle him well, provided of course it tickled no one else. She -wanted her maid; she wanted Norah; who was here on the instant at the -door, with very big eyes and red cheeks, smart enough, too, with a blue -dimity gown and white cap and apron. - -“And why are you genuflecting there at the door, you vixen?” cried the -irate lady, as the girl reached her side. “Waiting to see me struck by -lightning, eh?” - -“Oh, no, sure, mem. God is good!” volunteered the girl, reassuringly. - -“Oh,” said Mrs. Annandale, fairly rebuked. “Oh--ah--He has that -reputation, to be sure!” Then recovering herself and mindful of the -presence of Mervyn: “And remember, girl, nobody but the sinner ever -doubts it--the depraved sinner! Never--_never_ let me hear of your -doubting it!” - -She tossed up her chin with her head-dress aloft with something of a -pose, as if she herself had preached the little sermon. Then she turned -smoothly to Mervyn, with her best airy grace somewhat shivered as she -quaked before inconsiderable flashes of lightning--“If you will excuse -me I will return, after taking a dose of that Indian remedy for the -nerves which was recommended so highly to dear Brother.” - -Mervyn, remembering the curious knowledge of toxicology which the -Indians possessed and their extraordinary skill in distilling vegetable -poisons, ventured to remonstrate. - -“Dear madam,” he said, still standing beside the table where he was -waiting to hand her to the door, “have a care what you drink.” - -“I might say that to you--if the decanter were on the table,” she -retorted, with her customary sparkle and smile, which a sudden flash -distorted into a grimace before she had finished speaking. - -“True,--only too true, and especially on the frontier,” assented -Mervyn, showing his susceptibility to her pleasantry by a formal -smile, something really in the manner of the lay-figure, “but some -acquaintance with the herbal remedies is essential to safety, -and--pardon me--the only Indian remedy that Captain Howard uses is -bullets.” - -“For his own nerves--” began the lady. - -“The decanter,”--Mervyn laughed, a trifle abashed. - -“Dear Aunt,” Arabella struck in, somewhat alarmed, “pray be careful.” - -She had been standing most of the time since the tempest began to rage, -one hand resting on the back of the chair beside her, the other lifted -to the high mantel-piece. Her face was pale and grave, now and then she -shuddered at the sinister white glister of the lightning. She looked -tall and stately in her silver-shotted shoaling gray silk, glimmering -in the shadow and sheen of the fire, and now and then of a transcendent -dazzling whiteness in the fugitive flashes of the lightning. Mervyn -had longed to reassure her with a word, a look, for he divined her -fright, and even--so does love extend the sympathies--the nervous -shock that the mere flarings and uproar of the tempest must inflict on -more delicate sensibilities than those of a frontier soldier, but Mrs. -Annandale’s demands upon his attention had absorbed his every faculty. -His heart melted within him at her next words. - -“Pray,--pray, dear Aunt, do be careful. Listen to Mr. Mervyn.” - -“Listen to him yourself!” cried the old lady, who hardly for her life -could have forborne the quip and the confusion it occasioned her niece. -It gave less point to the moment when she flustered out of the room, -and Mervyn, hastily bestirring himself to hand her to the door which -her maid ran to open, turned with a sense of infinite relief toward the -fire. - -He wondered at himself afterward. He knew that he had but a moment; -that Arabella’s poise was already shaken by the events of the evening; -that there were days to come when occasion would offer a more -propitious opportunity for solitude _à deux_. He could not resist -her aspect; he could no longer deny himself the bliss of merging -expectation in certainty. - -He crossed the hearth and stood by her side. He saw the surprise in her -eyes; the flush flutter in her cheek; the tense lifting of her figure -into an added stateliness, an obvious pride. She looked a very queen as -she turned her head--and after all, he was the suitor. - -“And will you listen?”--he said, catching the phrase. “Will you let me -tell you how I worship you--how I worship you, how every glance of your -eye and every turn of your head and every intonation of your voice is -almost sacred to me? It hardly seems a sacrilege to say I could fall at -your feet and adore you. And will you look kindly on my suit? And will -you hear my humble prayer? And will you reward my devotion? Will you be -my wife?” - -He had acquitted himself very prettily, and with a rare interpretation -of her state of mind. She had begun to like him well, but it was not -enough that she should like him. His phrase-making fed her pride. He -had much to offer, and he offered his abundance in great abasement. - -As she slowly lifted her eyes they met his; and he went on without -waiting for a reply. “I wonder at my courage in speaking at all,” he -said. “It seems impossible that you should care--or that you should -come in time to care for me.” - -He paused, and in the tenseness of the silence the beat of the rain on -the roof had an inimical suggestion as if in its turbulence it might -come flying in at them. The thunder rolled and the echoes followed with -hollow reverberations hardly less resonant. The lightnings flickered -over her face and figure, and she visibly quailed a little, and he drew -nearer. - -“When you asked me to take care of you--the other day--I could scarcely -keep from begging for that privilege forever. It would be my blessed -and sacred duty--it would be my life’s crown. No behest on earth can be -so dear to me as those words. But let it be forever.” - -There was continued silence. - -“You will speak to me,” he said with feeling. - -She turned her fan in her hand--she was agitated, but inscrutable. - -“I know you so little,” she faltered, and he was sensible of a sudden -reaction of the heart; he had been chilled by the fear that she might -actually refuse. - -“And I am glad of that,” he said heartily, and with a cheery -intonation. “While there is nothing in my experience that is -dishonorable, still I feel so unworthy of you that I am glad to have -the chance of building myself up into something better than I have -been, for you to learn to know. I love you for what you are, but I -want you to love me for what I shall be for your dear sake.” His words -were enthusiastic, his heart beat fast, his face flushed with eager -expectation. - -It was impossible not to be flattered. “Nobody that was _anybody_,” -quotha! “He held himself so high! So far,” forsooth, “above a girl -without fortune,” the good duenna had said! - -Arabella’s pride had stormed the citadel, albeit his own fancy had made -the breach. Her pride shone in her eyes, held her head aloft, flushed -her fair, meditative, dignified face. He thought with exultation how -she would grace all he had to bestow--more--far more. - -“My love,” he almost whispered, “I wish I had a crown to lay at your -feet; you look like a queen.” - -She burst out laughing with pleasure, declaring that Love was indeed a -villainous hood-winker, that he should be thus blinded to the aspect of -a girl whom he had known all her life, and whom he was now minded to -fancy a goddess. - -“No fancy--no fancy--it is the truth--the eternal truth!” - -“Yes--yes--tell the truth,” Mrs. Annandale cried, catching the last -word as she entered the room. - -“Tell the truth while you can--while you are young. For when you are -old your conscience is stiff and you can’t. Well, the marplot storm -is almost over, and I suppose we may deal the cards for ‘three-handed -Ombre.’” - -She noticed--for what could escape her keen glance--that the young -officer, though embarrassed and agitated, had an elated aspect, and the -girl’s stately carriage impressed her. “_My lady_, that is to be!” she -thought, with a glow of triumph. “And yet I departed this place only -some three minutes and a half ago.” - -Still the thunder rolled, but further and further and further away, -and only the echoes were near--from the rocks of the neighboring -river-banks, the mountains, and the foothills hard by. Still the -lightning flashed, now in broad sheets, and now in long zigzag streaks -beyond the eastern woods. The tempest had passed over, and the moon was -struggling through the rack, now seeming on the crest of waves, again -lying in the trough of tossing clouds, like some beaten and buffeted -barque, resigned to fate, and riding out the storm. - -Mrs. Annandale, seated at the table, glancing over the top of her -cards, was annoyed to perceive Norah genuflecting at the door to the -inner apartment, now opening it a bit, and as she caught the eye of -her irate mistress, closing it hastily. - -“You baggage!” called out Mrs. Annandale, with such sudden sharpness -that Mervyn, notwithstanding his cast-iron nerves, started as if he -had been shot. The door closed instanter, tight and fast, and Norah, -leaning against it outside, had the strength to hope that her last hour -had not come. “What ails that girl? Are you bewitched, you hussy?” - -“Perhaps she wants something,” suggested Arabella, whose loyal -temperament seldom made question of her aunt’s right to her -peculiarities; but she was somewhat ashamed of their exhibition -to-night--to-night, when she was both proud and happy. - -“No, Miss, sit you still. By the time you and George Mervyn would be -through with all your bowings, and counter-bowings, and minuet-ings, -and handing each other to the door, the besom would have forgot what -she wants, or would have run a mile for fear of me. Come in, girl, and -speak up. Sure, I’ve no secrets to keep. Now, minx, what have you to -say to this worshipful company?” - -Norah, red, miserable, and embarrassed, emerged from the door and stood -dropping courtesies of humble placation and twisting with a gesture of -apology one corner of her apron between her fingers. - -“Please, mem,” she said, “I do be hearing that same knocking what went -on bangin’ an’ bangin’ in the storm, at the dure agin.” - -“You ninny!” exclaimed Mrs. Annandale, in scorn. “Do you know that in -these colonies they burn folks alive for hearing what they can’t hear -and seeing what is not to be seen?” - -The girl, looking thoroughly wretched, emitted a short, sharp squeal of -dismay that she tried a moment afterward to retrieve as a cough. - -Mervyn had all an officer’s aversion to familiarity with inferiors -in rank, but as Arabella leaned back in her chair to be out of her -aunt’s range of vision, and gazed smilingly, reassuringly, at the maid, -blithely shaking her head the while, he thought her as kind as she was -lovely, and benignly watched the restoration of Norah’s composure. - -“Sure, mem, all the time I did hear ut I tould yez av ut incessant, an’ -yez thought ’twuz but the thunder, an’ the wind, an’ the rain. But now, -mem, it’s at the dure agin, fit to break it in, an’ onst at that low -windy some man climbed up, an’ knocked, he did, with his knuckles on -the glass.” - -In the moment’s silence that followed her words the sullen sound of a -repeated knocking at the outer door was obvious. Mervyn suddenly rose, -throwing his cards down upon the table, and dashed through the hallway -to the outer door. - -“Indians! Indians!” quavered Mrs. Annandale, in a paroxysm of terror. -“Indians, I’ll wager! Cherokees! Chickasaws, and those devils that wear -nose-rings--oh-h-h! and _me_--so timid!” - -Then she said something that Arabella did not understand, and only -remembered long afterward. - -“We might have caught this bird in England. There was no need to lime a -twig for him! Oh--why did I come, and leave my good home--and journey -over that nasty smelly ocean to this queer distracted country! Indians! -Indians! Indians!” she continued to quaver, rocking herself back and -forth, and Norah, flying to her side for protection, knelt at her knee -and mechanically repeated the word--Indians! Indians! as if it were the -response of some curious liturgy they had picked up in their travels. - -Arabella snatched a blunderbuss of her father’s that swung above the -mantel-piece and pressed forward into the hall to make sure what -disaster had befallen them. - -The outer door was open, and the wind still blowing steadily, had -extinguished the lamp. Without there was more light than within. She -could see the glistening surface of the parade in the moonbeams, -shining like darkly lustrous glass with the rainfall, and beyond, -the guard-house, near the gate. Its door stood broadly aflare, and -the yellow radiance of the firelight fell on the sodden and soaked -ground. But what surprised her at this hour was the number of figures -astir.--Could there really be a demonstration of the Cherokees -impending? she wondered, with a clutch of fear at the heart, hearing -always the ominous chant from within--“Indians--Indians!” as mistress -and maid swayed in unison. She knew it behooved the rank and file to -be in barracks and in bed at this hour. She glanced toward the long, -low building where the soldiers were quartered. To her surprise the -lanterns, swinging in the galleries, showed the doors were open; -figures were going in and coming out. Then she observed that they moved -slowly and at their ease, loungingly, and there seemed to be much loud -but unexcited talk amongst them, continuous, as of the details of -individual experience. Whatever the sensation had been it was obviously -spent now. And thus she marked the conversation at the door. - -Mervyn stood on the threshold, and on the step below a non-commissioned -officer was punctiliously saluting, his attitude, his uniform, his -face, rendered visible by the lantern which one of two soldiers held. - -“Lieutenant Jerrold’s compliments, sir, hand Hi was to hinform you, -sir, that the fire is hout.” - -“Fire! what fire?” exclaimed Mervyn, wildly, looking out in keen -anxiety, as if he expected to see the substantial block-houses, the -store-house, the armory, the guard-house, the barracks all vanish like -a mirage. The wind tossed his hair, dispersing its perfumed powder -backward through the hall, where Arabella scented the fragrance of -attar of roses blended with the dank odors of the rain-drenched woods. - -“Sure, sir, the granary. The lightning struck it fust volley, and it -was blazing like a puffick pyr’mid in ten seconds.” - -“The granary! Damme! Why was I not informed?” - -“Sure, sir, the hofficer of the day sent a detail ’ere, sir, to hammer -on the door, but they got no answer, an’ the fire ’ad to be fit with -all ’ands, sir. Lieutenant Jerrold ’ad ’is fears for the fort.” - -Mervyn, all unmindful of the dank, wintry air that played round his -legs, inadequately protected in silk hose and pumps, felt as if he -could faint. The garrison had fought out its battle for the very -existence of the little frontier fort, and he, the acting commandant, -tucked away in a lady’s bower, making love to one and soothing the -terrors of another--what did he say in the confidence of his inner -consciousness as he heard Mrs. Annandale’s patter, “Indians! Indians!” -He vaguely fancied there was a relish of the situation in the face of -the corporal, but he whirled about, intending to take his hat and go -to the scene of action. Then reflection stayed him. This would merely -gratify his personal curiosity and interest. Before he should meet the -other officers he preferred full official information of so serious a -mischance during his service as commandant of the garrison and fort. - -“What was saved of the corn? What was done with it?” - -“Lord, sir,--nothing! The fire raged like ’ell, and was as tall as a -tree, sir. And ’twas hall the men could do, sir, to keep the armory an’ -store-house from going, too--they both caught fire. Nothing but the -tremenjous rain-burst saved the fort. The force ’ere couldn’t handle no -such fire as this ’ere one.” - -“I daresay,--I daresay--” Mervyn affected an ease of manner he was -far from feeling. Then fury for the dilemma in which he was placed -overcame him anew. “It should have been reported to me. Who did he send -here?” - -“Meself, sir, an’ Hi ’ammered with two men. But we was of the gyard, -sir, an’ the Injuns was right around the counterscarp an’ the horficer -of the gyard was fearful they’d rush the gate. Sure, sir, he had the -guns manned an’ fired blank ca’tridges to keep ’em at a distance.” - -Was ever a commanding officer in so dolorous a plight--and for no fault -of his own? - -Mervyn suddenly heard the rich stir of a paduasoy skirt in the darkness -near him, and with an effort curbed his vexation. - -“This is all very well, since it ends well. But, my man, this is the -duty of the officer of the guard and the officer of the day. It doesn’t -concern me. You ought to know that. What is your mission to me from the -officer of the day?” - -The man hesitated and stammered. He knew that he was detailing -news--the most momentous that had befallen Fort Prince George for many -a moon. He could hardly accept the statement that it concerned only the -officer of the day. He recalled himself hastily. - -“Yes, sir, Hi was to mention Ensign Raymond’s arrival, sir. He wishes -to report to you, sir, and to see if the leddies have any messages for -Captain Howard, sir, as ’e is about to start up the river to rejoin -’im.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - - -Mervyn had not earlier been aware of the presence of Arabella in the -dimly lighted hall during the report of the corporal, but it was -coercive now. She had not intended concealment, and she broke out with -sudden enthusiasm. Her father’s absence counted but a few hours, but -the thought of it was as heavy as if it had endured for a year. - -“Lord,--to be sure we want to send messages. Have Mr. Raymond in at -once, Mr. Mervyn, and let us hear what he has to say of papa, and how -he weathered the storm.” - -The rich rustling of her silk dress as she fluttered through the -shadowy place, the clear, resonant note of happiness in her voice, her -gurgling, melodious laughter, and the striking of the light on her -sheeny attire and her golden hair as she flashed into the illuminated -room beyond were as unexpected as a supernatural vision to the -corporal, standing at gaze with his lantern at the door. Mervyn made -haste to dismiss him, hearing all the time the voices of the ladies -within raised beyond precedent. - -“Not Indians--no Indians have come, Aunt Claudia!” cried Arabella. The -words merely added another repetition to the monotonous chant of the -two swaying women. “No Indians at all. Ensign Raymond has returned, and -is coming in!” - -She stood in the centre of the floor, resplendent and joyous, and -waved her hand at arm’s length with a wide, free gesture to express -gratulation and safety. - -Mrs. Annandale was suddenly silent, her face more dismayed than when -terror had distorted it. One might have thought the presence of -Raymond was even less welcome than a raid of Indians. Her jaw fell; -her head-dress was awry; her eyes grew troubled and then bright with a -spark of irritation. - -“Why does the creature have to come here? Has George Mervyn no -better sense than to receive official reports in _my_ presence?” She -drew herself up to her extreme height to express the dignity of her -personality and to repudiate the contaminating influences of official -reports. But Raymond was already at the door. - -A brief conference with Mervyn in the hall had sufficed for business, -for he had no official matters to report to the acting commandant. It -was merely a form to report at all. Raymond still cherished a proud -and wounded consciousness of the false position in which he had been -placed because of an exacting whim of his quondam friend. He could -not have put his finger on the spot, but he knew he was suffering a -counter-stroke for some blow dealt Mervyn’s vanity, unintentionally, -unperceived, he could not say how. He had taken his punishment--the -commandant’s reprimand, a most half-hearted performance--and the matter -had passed. But Mervyn, in view of their old intimacy, had an uneasy -wonder as to the terms on which they should meet again, and would -fain it had been otherwise than under circumstances in which, if not -obviously at fault, he was the ridiculous sport of an unsoldierly -chance. Raymond, throughout the interview, had deported himself with -punctilious formality, saluting with the respect due a superior -officer, bearing himself with a null inexpressiveness, phrasing what he -had to say with not a word to spare; only when he turned to the door -of the parlor, and Mervyn bade him pause, did his impetuous identity -assert itself. - -“I hardly think,” said Mervyn, whose quick senses had caught something -of the old lady’s protest, which reinforced a jealous folly that -grudged even a glimpse of Arabella, “that a visit is in order at -present. Mrs. Annandale is not well and the hour is late; the -pettiaugre should not be kept waiting within the reach of marauding -Indians.” - -He even went so far as to lay a detaining hand on the door. - -“Under your favor, sir,” said Raymond, stiffly, his blood boiling, -his eyes on fire, “in so personal a matter I shall not consult your -pleasure. I shall wait upon the ladies with such news as I can give -them of the expedition.” - -He had lifted his voice, and its round, rich volume penetrated the -inner apartment. The door opened suddenly from within and he was -greeted by Arabella, herself, in a sort of ecstasy of expectation. The -wilderness, in whose vastness her father was submerged, seemed not so -formidable when so soon after his departure she might have word how he -was faring in its depths. - -“Oh, Mr. Raymond!--how good of you to come and tell us the news--” - -“I feared I might be intrusive,” he hesitated, his ill-humor put to -rout at the very sight of her, and feeling a little abashed, a little -wistful in having forced his way, so to speak, into her presence. - -“Why, no--!” she cried, her voice as fresh as a lark’s. “I wanted to -see you. I asked Mr. Mervyn to send for you!” - -Mervyn flushed, and as she observed it she noticed that the red glow in -Raymond’s cheeks was deeper and richer than even their florid wont. The -eyes of both men glittered, and she had a sudden recollection of the -difficulty that had heretofore risen between them touching the guard -report,--had there been high words in the hall, she wondered. - -Mrs. Annandale was endowed with many a sharp weapon which made her -enmity feared and her favor prized, and among these were certain -indescribable subtleties of manner which she wielded with great skill -and murderous effect. The very glance of her eye as she turned her gaze -upon Raymond might have abased many as sturdy a soul, but Arabella was -smiling upon him from the opposite side of the table, both elbows on it -and her chin on her clasped hands. - -“Well, you here again?” the old lady said, her keen eyes twinkling -malevolently upon him as he stood beside a chair, his hand on its back, -“we thought--we really labored under the impression that we said -farewell to you early this afternoon.” - -“And you shall have that pleasure again, dear madam, within the next -few minutes,” he retorted, with a courteous smile and a wave of the hat -in his hand. - -Her eyes narrowed--he was the very essence of a marplot, so handsome, -with such a suggestion of reckless dash about him, yet with such a -steady look in his eye. He had, too, all the advantages of birth and -breeding, and for these she valued him even less. They placed him -where she claimed he had no right to be, among his superiors as wealth -would rate them. She was not rich, herself, but she had a sentiment of -contumely for the indications of wear in his service uniform, of work -in his heavy service sword, of the expectation of danger incident to -his profession, and the preparation for it evidenced in the pistols -he wore in his belt. His unpowdered hair, just drying off from the -soakings of the rain, showed its dark auburn hue. He was all most -freshly caparisoned, for the rain had not left a dry thread on him, -and he, too, was rather conscious of the shabbiness of his second best -uniform, donned since his arrival at the fort. In comparison, Mervyn, -hovering about, was but a lace and velvet presentment of a soldier, a -travesty of the idea expressed in fighting trim. - -Arabella took, as she fancied, a sort of friendly interest in -Raymond--she loved that look in his eyes, that gay, gallant, fearless -glance; it reminded her of sunlight striking on water, and she knew -there were depths far, far beneath. There was something so genuine, so -vigorous, so hearty about his mentality; he would not know what to do -with a subterfuge. She loved to see his rising anger; she laughed with -a flattered delight when she thought of a suggestion of jealousy, for -her sake, of Mervyn, that she had noticed even on the first day of her -arrival,--things move swiftly on the frontier. She would like to sit -down beside him and hear him tell of his troubles,--how he hated, and -whom; how he loved, and whom; how he had only his sword to cut his way -through the world, and his way was like this impenetrable wilderness, -too thickly grown for a knight-errant of to-day to make place. She -would care rather to hear of his griefs than the joys of another man. -His failures were more picturesque than another man’s successes. She -would like to take out her little house-wife, and with her crafty -needle mend that rent in his white glove as he held it in his hand. She -reached for it suddenly, and if ever Mrs. Annandale could have bitten -an unsuspicious hand it was when her niece’s jewelled fingers began to -take in and out a tiny needle and a fine thread through the ripped seam -of the soldier’s glove. - -“More than a few minutes,” she said, archly. “You can’t go without -this!” - -Mrs. Annandale had the merit of knowing when the limit of forbearance -was reached. - -“And now, my good Mr. Raymond,” she said, with a sour smile, “if you -are quite ready, and have peacocked about to your heart’s content, -and have handled your sword and fiddled with your pistols to make -Arabella and me see that you have got ’em on and are about to get used -to wearing such things, and are no play-soldier, though yesterday in -the nursery, we want to say we admire your terrible and blood-thirsty -appearance, and tremble mightily before you, and should like to know -what brought you back, and if anything ails Captain Howard.” - -Arabella looked up quickly. - -“Oh, nothing! Captain Howard is in fine health and spirits,” Raymond -hastened to stipulate. - -“Then take time to sit down, Mr. Raymond,” Arabella said, for Mrs. -Annandale had malevolently left him standing. “What brought you back?” - -“The sight of the burning granary,” said Raymond, sinking into a chair -with a goodly clatter of his warlike paraphernalia. “We had made fair -headway when we met the storm, and the wind scattered the pettiaugres -and drove us ashore. We went into an inlet where a ravine ran down the -mountain-side, but the water rose and backed up till we took to the -rocks, and emerging upon a high pinnacle commanding the face of the -country I spied the bonfire you had started here.” - -“Did you hear the guns?” Mervyn asked, quietly. He had no hope to -delude the ladies with the idea that he had ordered the protective -firing. But if Raymond had heard the circumstance of his inopportune -seclusion it might foster a doubt in his mind. - -Arabella noted that jovial widening of the pupils of Raymond’s eyes, an -expression as hilarious as a laugh. But he said gravely that at the -distance they had not discriminated between the discharge of the cannon -and of the thunder. - -“Captain Howard was not very uneasy about the Cherokees; he thought -the fire was kindled by lightning, and at all events the main part of -our force was here. But he sent me to bring certain intelligence, and -as I am to rejoin him before dawn”--he was rising--“you will not, Mrs. -Annandale, tempt me beyond my strength.” - -He looked down at her with so sarcastic a gleam in his eyes that for -once she was out of countenance. - -“Hoity--toity,” she exclaimed, “we sharpen our wits in the pettiaugres.” - -The glove was mended. Mervyn could not judge whether it were a mere -_façon de parler_, or whether the girl were a coquette at heart, or -whether Raymond had won upon her predilections, but he was seriously -disturbed and displeased when, with a pretty gesture of significance, -she cast it upon the table. - -“I fling down the glove!” she said. - -“I lift the glove!” he responded, in his full, steady voice. - -And neither Mrs. Annandale nor Mervyn had quite the courage to ask -what manner of defiance this gage signified, or whether indeed it were -merely one of those vain trifles with which young people are wont to -solace their emptiness and lack of thought. - -Raymond was bowing over the hands of the ladies, presently, and after -the fashion of the time he carried Mrs. Annandale’s to his lips. She -gave it to him with a touch of reluctance, as if she thought he had -some cause to bite it, but he dropped the member uninjured, and then he -was gone. - -Mervyn lingered, but the fire was low, the geniality spent; Arabella, -half lost in one of the great chairs as she leaned far back, seemed -pensive, distraite; he, himself, could not raise his spirits to their -wonted tone; his mind was preoccupied with the unlucky chances of the -evening and the sorry figure he had cut when his rank had placed him -in command of the fort, and when he would most desire to deserve his -prominence. Mrs. Annandale alone preserved her uncanny, indomitable -freshness, and talked on with unabated vigor. But the evening was -over; to recur to its tender passages would need more auspicious -circumstances. He had few words for leave-taking, and when he had gone -Arabella slowly pulled herself out of the depths of the big chair, -and said how tired she was, and how long he had stayed. And then -she yawned. Mrs. Annandale looked at her sternly, opened her mouth -for rebuke, thought better of it, lighted her bedroom candle, and -disappeared. - -Arabella stood for some moments with her own lighted candle in her -hand. The room was otherwise dark now, but for a dull glow of embers; -the barbaric decorations on the walls, the swan’s wings, the aboriginal -pictures, the quivers and fantastic medley of baskets, and calabashes, -and painted jugs wavered into visibility and again disappeared as -the flame flickered in the draught. She was thinking--she hardly -knew of what--she was tired--the evening had brought so much. She had -a sense of triumph in the capture of Mervyn, and that was an abiding -impression. She was glad to see Raymond--her heart was warm when she -thought of him. She fancied they had quarrelled because of her, and -this made her lips curl with relish--but they might quarrel again. -She must not let Mervyn’s jealousy go too far. She had half a mind to -tell her aunt of her victory--she, the penniless! But there would be -time enough. She took the candle in her hand and started up the steep -stairway from the hall. It was of rude construction, and the apartment -to which it led was an empty disused place upon which the rooms on -either side opened. It was situated in one angle of the house, and when -it was built had been intended for defensive service. Its outer sides -had a row of loop-holes at the usual height, and its walls projected -some three feet beyond the walls below like the upper story of a -block-house; a series of loop-holes that pierced the floor close to the -outer wall gave an opportunity to its possible defenders of shooting -downward at an enemy who should seek to enter or to fire the house -below. With all these loop-holes, admitting the air, the place was far -too open for occupation, save by soldiers, perhaps, in stress of siege. -In peace it had lapsed into simple utility as hallway, and possessed -a sort of attraction for Arabella, so different was it from aught -she had ever seen in the old country. The commandant’s residence, -otherwise, a quadrangular building, with an open square in the centre, -wherein was a well to insure a water supply in any event of blockade -or siege, was reminiscent to her of country granges which she had seen -on the continent, but these quaint corner rooms above stairs, each -practically a citadel, with its loop-holes both for direct and vertical -fire, seemed to be peculiarly of the new world, full of the story and -the struggle of the frontier. Her own and her aunt’s rooms lay to the -south, her father’s to the east. The other citadel corners and sides of -the quadrangle were appropriated to the officers of the garrison, and, -like separate houses, there was no means of communication. - -The great strong timbers, capable of turning a musket-ball, the heavy -low beams, all clear of cobwebs, for these military wights were great -housekeepers, came first into view as she slowly ascended the rude -stair; then she caught a glimpse of a star shining through a loop-hole -in the wall, and she stood still for a moment in the cavernous place, -with the candle in one hand and the other on the rough stair-rail, -while she watched its white glister, and listened to the sullen drops -falling from the eaves, and the continuous sobbing of the unreconciled -wind; then she went on up, up, till she stood at the top and turned to -glance about, as she always did, at the place which must have stories -to tell if there were any idle enough to listen. The next moment the -candle was set a-flicker by a gust of wind through a neighboring -loop-hole. She held up one hand to shield it. The flame suddenly bowed -again before the errant gust, flickered tremulously and flared up anew, -failed, and all was darkness. Before crossing the slight distance to -her aunt’s door Arabella stood waiting till her eyes should become more -accustomed to the gloom. She knew that the loop-holes in the floor were -close to the wall, and that so long as she kept her direction through -the middle of the apartment there was no danger of a false step. But -a certain direction is difficult to maintain in darkness, as she -realized, and she eagerly attempted to discern the small squares of the -light outside which should apprize her of the position of the upper row -of loop-holes, just above the lower series. She would have called out -to Norah to open the door of the lighted room, but that she dreaded her -aunt’s outcries, and reproaches, and rebukes for the carelessness of -allowing her candle to be blown out at peril of a sprained ankle or a -broken limb. - -Suddenly she heard a voice in the parade; it was near at hand and -through the loop-hole at her left she could see that two figures were -standing close to the wall below. She had no intention of listening. -She would have moved, but for her terror of the pitfalls in the floor. -Their words were few, but their voices, though low, carried with -unusual distinctness in the dull damp air. - -“Split me! but I’ve laughed myself sick,” Raymond was saying. -“God-a-mercy, the commandant of a fort smirking in a lady’s parlor, -while his granaries burn and subalterns fire cannon to keep the Indians -from rushing the gates. Oh--ho! oh--ho! I hope I haven’t done my chest -any serious damage, but I ache fit to kill.” - -“Lieutenant Jerrold was pretty hot, to have to shoulder all the -responsibility,” said another voice that she did not recognize. “What -will the captain say, do you suppose, when you tell him?” - -“I shall not tell him! No--burst me if I will. It wasn’t the damn -fool’s fault. It was just so funny! It was as if Fate had tweaked him -by the nose!” - -“He was quick enough to report _you_,” said Ensign Lawrence. “For -something not _your_ fault.” - -“Child, I never try to measure my duty by other men’s consciences. I -shall tell the captain that all his corn is gone and his horses are -inquiring about breakfast already, and the cook has no griddle-cakes -for Mrs. Annandale--and Indian meal is the only Indian thing she -approves of. And that the guard behaved well and stood off the Indians -under the command of a gay little ensign, who shall not be nameless, -and that the force from the barracks turned out and dealt strenuously -with the fire under the orders of Lieutenant Jerrold, officer of the -day, till the rain took up the matter and put it out. But unless he -asks point-blank of the acting commandant I shall say naught. Let him -have all the credit he can get--” - -“And the young lady besides?” - -“If she will have him.” - -But there was a change in Raymond’s voice. He was aware of it himself, -for he broke off--“I take it mighty kind of you, Lawrence, to let -me have these bullets. I had enough moulded, as I thought, but the -captain--queer in an old soldier--went off without any, and I left him -all I had. But for you I couldn’t use these pistols at all.” - -She could see now in the pallid and uncertain moonlight that they -were dividing some small commodities between them, and presently, -the transfer complete, she watched them trudge off toward the gates. -She stepped cautiously across the loop-holes in the floor and looked -through one of the slits high enough for window-like usage. It gave a -good range toward the south, and she noted flickering lights at the -river-bank. Evidently Raymond was on the point of re-embarkation. Soon -the lights were extinguished, there was more the sense of movement on -the dark water than visible craft, till suddenly a pettiaugre glided -into view in a great slant of white glister on the shining water, with -the purple mountains beyond, and the massive wooded foothills on either -side, with the tremulous stars, and the skurrying clouds, and the -fugitive moon above. And on--and on--and on in this white glister, as -in some enchanted progress, the lonely boat glided till it rounded the -point, and was lost to view. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - - -It was dawn when Raymond sighted Little Tamotlee, and the early -sunshine, of an exquisite crystalline purity, was over all the -world--misty mountain, shimmering river, the infinite stretches of the -leafless wilderness--as the young officer’s pettiaugre was pulling -into the bank, where Captain Howard’s boats were already beached. -The Indian town on the shore, an oasis of habitation in the midst of -the unpeopled forest, was all astir. Columns of smoke were rising -alike from the conical-roofed dwellings of the characteristic Indian -architecture and those more modern structures which the Cherokees also -affected, and which resembled the log cabins of the European settlers -in the provinces to the eastward. The population seemed all afoot, -as if some event of moment impended. Knots of braves pressed hither -and thither, with feather-crested heads and painted faces, arrayed -in buck-skin or fur shirts and leggings with floating fringes, and -many tawdry gauds of decorated quivers and bows, carried for ornament -only, long ago discarded as a weapon in favor of the British “Brown -Bess,” and powder and lead. The chiefs, the cheerataghe or priests, the -political head-men, and the warriors of special note were all easily -distinguishable to Raymond, as he stood in the bow of the boat, by -reason of their splendor of attire, their feather-braided iridescent -mantles, or their war bonnets of vertically placed swan’s quills, -standing fifteen inches high, above the forehead. On the summit of -the tall mound, where the great dome-like rotunda or town-house was -perched,--its contour conserved by a thick plaster of the tenacious red -clay of the region laid on smoothly, inside and out,--a white flag was -flying. Presently a wide sonorous voice sounded thence. The Cherokee -town-crier was uttering the “News Hollow.” It was strictly an official -demonstration, for the arrival of Captain Howard and his escort in the -night, now quartered in the “Stranger house,” was an event that had -fallen under the personal observation of all the denizens of Tamotlee. -Nevertheless, every man paused where he stood, as if the sound of that -great voice possessed gifts of enchantment, and he were bound to the -spot. - -Raymond, who had caught up some familiarity with the language, was -too distant as he stood in the gliding boat, now swiftly approaching -the shore, to discriminate the words, but as the proclamation ceased -he perceived that all were pressing toward the “beloved square” of -the town, a rectangular space, level, and covered with fine white -sand, beaten, and trampled, and worn to the hardness and consistency -of stone. There was a commodious piazza-like building of logs and -bark, having the whole front open, situated at each side of the -square, appropriated to the different branches, so to speak, of the -primitive government, and these began to fill quickly with the -officials of each department,--the ancient councillors on the east, -the cheerataghe on the west, the warriors on the north, clanging with -martial accoutrement, and on the south the functionaries that the -European traders, called “The Second Men,” these being, as it were, -“the city fathers,” having control of all municipal affairs,--the -building of houses, the planting and garnering of the public crops, -the succor of the poor, the conduct of negotiations with other towns, -the care of the entertainment of strangers. It was in their charge -that Raymond presently perceived, with that amusement which the -methods of the savages always excited in European breasts, Captain -Howard and his escort. Very funny, in truth, they looked, their fresh -British faces adjusted to a sedulous gravity and inexpressiveness and -their manner stiffened to conform to Indian etiquette, and manifest -neither curiosity nor amusement. This was difficult for one of the -young soldiers, a raw Irish boy, whose teeth now and again gleamed -inadvertently, giving the effect of being swallowed, so suddenly did -his lips snap together as his orders recurred to his mind. His head -seemed set on a pivot when first he took his seat with the others on -the benches in the booth-like place, but a sudden stroke upon the -cranium from a drum-stick in the seemingly awkward handling of Robin -Dorn, sitting beside him and moving the instrument as if for added -safety, was a sufficient admonition to foster a creditable degree of -discretion. Captain Howard’s typically English face, florid, smooth, -steadfast-eyed, evidencing a dignity and self-respect that coerced -a responsive respect, was indeed curiously out of place seen above -the bar of the booth-like piazza, where he sat on the lower settee, -his men ranged in tiers behind him. When Raymond, who was met at the -water’s edge by a messenger for the purpose, was conducted to a place -by Captain Howard, he rather wondered that they had not been given -seats beside Rolloweh, the prince of the town, in the western cabin, -for it was the habit of the Indians to pay almost royal honors to their -guests of official station. He took the place assigned him in silence, -and he observed that the occasion was indeed one of special importance, -for Captain Howard said not a word, made not an inquiry as to his -mission, save by a lifted eyebrow. Raymond answered by a debonair -smile, intimating that all was well. Then both turned their eyes to -the “beloved square,” and this moment the Reverend Mr. Morton was led -out in charge of two Indians and stationed before the great white seat -of the “holy cabin.” Captain Howard flushed deeply and darkly red, but -made no other sign, and such proceedings began as Rolloweh had elected -should take place. - -Mr. Morton was old, and lank, and pallid, and dreary. No affinity had -he with the portly and well-liking type of his profession of his day. -Such manna as gave them a repletion of self-satisfaction had been -denied him. He had an infinite capacity for hardship, an absolute -disdain of danger. Luxury affected his ascetic predilections like sin. -He desired but a meditative crust to crunch while he argued the tenets -of his religion and refuted the contradictions of his catechumen. He -was as instant in and out of season as if he were in pursuit of some -worldly preferment--one can say no more. He did not need encouragement, -and he was so constituted that he could recognize no failure. He had -no vain-glory in his courage--to him it was the most natural thing in -the world to risk his life to save Rolloweh’s soul. He knew it was -rank heresy to think it, but he was willing to trust the salvation of -Captain Howard and the garrison of Fort Prince George to their own -unassisted efforts, and such mercy as the Lord might see fit to grant -their indifference, their ignorance, their folly, and their perversity. -But Rolloweh’s soul had had no chances, and he was bound personally -to look after it. He even hoped for the conversion of those great -chiefs of the upper towns--Yachtino of Chilhowee, Cunigacatgoah of -Choté, Moy Toy of Tellico Great, and Quorinnah of Tennessee Town. He -was worldly wise in his day and generation, too. He had fastened with -the unerring instinct of the born missionary on the propitious moment. -Not while prosperity shone upon them, not while their savage religion -met every apparent need, not while facile chance answered their -ignorant prayer, was the conversion of a people practicable. But the -Cherokees were conquered, abased, decimated, the tribe scattered, their -towns in ruins, the bones held sacred of their dead unburied, their -ancient cherished religion fallen in esteem to a meaningless system of -inoperative rites and flimsy delusions. Now was the time to reveal the -truth, to voice “the good tidings of great joy.” Hence he had said, -“Woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel!” - -And the common people had been listening to him gladly. Thus the chiefs -feared they would never seek to made head against their national -enemies under their national rulers. Simple as he stood there in his -thread-bare black clothes and his darned hose,--he was wondrously -expert with a meditative needle,--he had the political future of a -people and the annihilation of a false and barbarous worship in his -grasp. Therefore said the Cherokee rulers to Captain Howard--“Your -beloved man must remove himself.” - -It was an old story to the soldier. He had written to the missionary -and remonstrated, for peace was precious. In reply he had in effect -been admonished to render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar’s and -unto God the things that are God’s. A meek address was not among the -merits of the Reverend Mr. Morton. The obvious interpretation of this -saying seemed to the commandant a recommendation to go about his -business. He desisted from advice for a time. He had known a certain -luke-warmness in religious matters to ensue upon a surcharge of -zeal, and he had waited with patience for the refined and delicately -nurtured old man to tire of the hardships of life in that devastated -country among the burned towns and the angry, sullen people, and the -uncouth savage association. But he had continued to preach, and the -tribesmen had continued in hordes to listen, expecting always to -discover the secret of the superiority of the British in the arts of -war and manufacture,--the reason of their own deplorable desolation -and destruction. They could not separate the ideas of spiritual -acceptability and worldly prosperity. The Briton revered his religion, -they argued, and therefore he knew how to make gun-powder, and to -conquer the bravest of the brave, and to amass much moneys of silver -and gold,--for in their enlightenment the roanoke and the wampum were -a wofully depreciated currency,--perhaps it was the religion of the -British people which made them so strong. Thus the Cherokees lent -a willing ear. As they began to discriminate and memorize, certain -familiarities in the matters offered for their contemplation were dimly -recognized. The archaic figment or fact--whichever it may be--that the -ancient Scriptures had once been theirs, and through negligence lost, -and through degeneration forgotten, reasserted its hold. The points of -similarity in their traditions to the narrations of the old Bible were -suggested to Mr. Morton, who accepted them with joy, becoming one of -the early converts to the theory of the Hebraic origin of the tribes -of American Indians. It was a happy time for the scholarly old man--to -find analogies in their barbarous rites with ancient Semitic customs; -to reform from the distortions of oral teachings a divine oracle of -precious significance; to show in the old stories how the prophecy -fore-shadowed the event, how the semblance merged into the substance in -the coming of the Christ. In this way he approached their conversion -to Christianity from the vantage ground of previous knowledge, however -distorted and inadequate, and commingled with profane and barbaric -follies. He was convinced--he convinced many--that they were of an -inherited religion, into which he had been adopted, that they were -descendants of the lost tribes of Israel, that the Scriptures they had -had were a part of the Book he revered, and that he would indoctrinate -them into the remainder. Perhaps Mr. Morton doubted the account of -the teachings of the Roman Catholic captive, Cabeza de Vaca, among -the Floridian Indians early in the sixteenth century, or perhaps he -disbelieved that any remnants of such precepts had drifted so far to -this secluded and inimical tribe, always at war as it was with its -southern neighbors and totally without communication with them. - -Though this persuasion took hold on the masses it encountered great -disfavor among the chiefs, more especially when the valorous and -fearless old man thundered rebukes upon their pagan follies and -observances, their superstitions, their methods of appeasing the “Great -White Fire.” He knew no moderation in rebuke; intolerance is the -good man’s sin. He was especially severe in his denunciation of the -pretended powers of necromancy, above all of the supernatural endowment -of a certain amulet which they possessed and which by the earlier -travellers among them is termed their “Conjuring-Stone.” - -This was said to be a great red crystal. According to Adair, the -historian, it was a gigantic carbuncle; others have called it a -garnet--these gems are still found in the Great Smoky Mountains; more -probably it was a red tourmaline of special depth and richness of -color. - -Mr. Morton had never seen the stone, but Cunigacatgoah of Choté had -told him triumphantly that he could never captivate his soul, for -he held the precious amulet in his hand whenever the missionary -preached, and it dulled the speech, so that he heard nothing. As the -aged Cunigacatgoah had been deaf these several years, this miracle -had involved little strain on the powers of the stone. These days -were close upon the times of witchcraft, of the belief in special -obsessions, of all manner of magic. This stubborn and persistent -paganism roused the utmost rancor and ingenuity of the Reverend Mr. -Morton, and at last he made a solemn statement in the council-house -of Choté, in the presence of many witnesses, that if they would show -him one miracle wrought by the stone, if they could bring positive -testimony of one evil averted by the amulet, he would renounce his -religion and his nation, he would become an adopted Cherokee and -a pagan; he would poll his hair, and dance in three circles, and -sacrifice to the “Ancient White Fire” and the little Thunder men. - -In the sullen silence that had ensued upon this declaration he had -demanded why had the amulet not stayed the march of the British -commander, Colonel Grant, through the Cherokee country? Why had it not -checked the slaughters and the burnings? Why had it not saved to the -Cherokees the vast extent of country ceded for a punitive measure in -the pacification and forced treaties of peace? Where was the luck it -had brought? Defend all good people from such a possession! - -The old missionary owed his life less to any fear that should he -disappear the British government might bethink itself of such a subject -as a superannuated and pious old scare-crow in the barren field of the -Cherokee country than to the hold he had taken on the predilections of -the people. There was scant use in burning him--many among themselves -would resent his fate. He, himself, would rejoice in martyrdom, and -their utmost deviltries would add to his crown. - -The savage leaders had a certain natural sagacity. Wiser than they -of eld they cried not upon Baal. They would not accept the challenge -of the man of God. They would not produce the amulet at his bidding, -lest it be discredited--they said the touch, the evil eye of a -stranger were a profanation. Yet they feared that the conversion of -the people to Christianity was national annihilation. And they clung -to their superstitions, their polytheistic venerations, their ancient -necromancies, their pagan observances; to them all other gods were -strange gods. They realized the hold which the new faith was taking -on the tribesmen. Therefore they had told Mr. Morton that he had long -plagued them with many words and they desired him to leave the country. -When he refused in terms they despatched a delegation to refer the -matter to Captain Howard at Fort Prince George, with a most insistent -demand that he should return with it and meet them at Little Tamotlee, -a village at no difficult distance from the fort itself, and easily -accessible by boat, by reason of the confluence of the Keowee and -Tugaloo rivers. - -This was one of the smaller towns of the Ayrate district, sending -only sixty gun-men to the wars and with a population of women and -children in proportion. The inhabitants could by no means muster such -an assemblage as had now gathered. Visitors whom Raymond, familiar with -the people, recognized as hailing from the towns of the Ottare region -had crowded in, making the day in some sort a representative occasion. -They had arranged themselves around the “beloved square,” some -standing, some seated, others kneeling on one knee, and the proceedings -had well begun before Captain Howard realized what manner of part he -was expected to sustain. In noting the number of chiefs ranged in -state in the “holy cabin” on the “great white seat,” Raymond thought -that the lack of space might explain the fact that Captain Howard -was not offered a place commensurate with his rank and importance on -the frontier. After a few moments, however, he understood that this -subsidiary position better accorded with the rôle assigned to the -commandant. - -The row of chiefs glittered in the brilliant sunlight, in their rich -fur shirts, their feather-woven mantles, their plumed crests, their -gayly painted faces, their silver bracelets worn above the elbow, -their silver head-bands and earrings, their many glancing necklaces -of roanoke,--all, however, devoid of any weapon worn in sight. The -wind was gentle, yet fresh; the hour was still early,--the Reverend -Mr. Morton’s shadow was even longer and lanker than his tall, bony -anatomy might seem to warrant. His attendants, or guards, had taken off -his shovel hat and clerical wig, and his head was bare, save for its -wandering wisps of gray hair, blowing about his face and neck,--and -whenever Captain Howard glanced toward him he turned as red as his -scarlet coat, his eyes fell, he cleared his throat uneasily. He had -long been habituated by the exigencies of his military service to the -exercise of self-control, and he had need now of all the restraints of -his training. - -The preacher opened the session, so to speak, by demanding in a very -loud voice, with every assurance of manner and in fluent Cherokee, why -he was arraigned thus amongst his friends. - -Rolloweh, a man of a fierce, hatchet-shaped face, rendered sinister of -expression by the loss of one eye, rose and imperatively bade him be -silent. - -“I will not hold my peace,” declared the venerable missionary. “I will -know why I am brought here, and why these,”--he waved his hand--“have -assembled.” - -“Because,” said Rolloweh, the Raven, craftily, “you have too many -words. You weary our ears waking, and in our dreams you still talk on. -We have loved you--have we not listened to you? You are our friend, -and you have dwelt in our hearts. We have seen you shed tears for our -sorrows. You have lent ears to our plaints and you have eaten our salt. -You have given of your goods to the needy and have even wrought with -your hands in building again the burned houses. You have paid with -English money for your keep and have been a charge to no man.” - -He looked with a steady, observant eye to the right and the left of -the rows of eager listening faces. They could but note that he had -religiously given the old man his due, for the good missionary was much -beloved of the people. - -“But your talk is not a straight talk. You have the crooked tongue. You -tell lies to mislead the Cherokee people--who are a free people--and -to make them slaves to the British. You tell them that these lies are -religion--that they are the religion of the British people.” - -There was absolute silence as his impassioned tones, voicing the -musical, liquid Cherokee words, rolled out on the still morning air. - -“You say that the tongue is a fire--it kindles about you, for these -lies that you have spoken. You are our friend, but you stretch our -hearts to bursting. We have besought you to leave the country and -mislead our youth no more. You have been stubborn. You say--‘Woe!’ and -you will preach! We have summoned this Capteny Howard, a beloved man of -the English king, to question between you and show these men from the -towns that what you teach our youth is not the English religion, but a -charm to bind the Cherokee.” - -Through the interpreter these words were perfectly intelligible to -Captain Howard, and for one moment it seemed as if this officer--a -stalwart specimen of middle-aged vigor--might faint; then, with a -sudden revulsion of color, as if he might go off in an apoplexy. -To be so entrapped! To be caught in the toils of a public religious -controversy dismayed him more than an ambush of warriors. But the old -missionary’s life might depend upon his answers. They must confirm the -“straightness” of Mr. Morton’s talk. He must prove that the teaching -of the parson to the Cherokee nation was not a snare for Cherokee -liberties, but the familiar religion of the British people, known and -practised by all. - -It was not to be presumed that with these postulants Mr. Morton had -delved very deeply into sacerdotal mysteries and fine and abstruse -doctrines of theology, but Captain Howard was so obviously relieved -when his interpreter, standing very straight and stiff outside his -booth,--a man whom he had employed as a scout,--repeated the words -flung at him by the interpreter of Rolloweh, who stood very straight -and stiff outside the “holy cabin,” that Raymond, despite his surprise, -and agitation, and anxiety could have laughed aloud. - -“Did you ever hear of a man called Noah?” - -“Yes--oh, yes, indeed,” said Captain Howard, so plumply affirmative -and familiar that they might have expected to hear him add that he had -served with Noah in the Hastenbeck campaign. - -All the eyes of the Cherokees around the vacant square were fixed first -upon the questioner, Rolloweh, and then upon Captain Howard, in the -incongruous rôle of catechumen. The space was not so large as in the -“beloved squares” of towns of greater population, comprising perhaps -not more than one acre. Every word could be heard--every facial change -discriminated. Mr. Morton stood as if half amused, one thumb thrust in -his fob, his grizzled eye-brows elevated, his thin wisps of hair tossed -about his bare poll, a smile on his face, listening with an indulgent -meditative air to the inquiries of Rolloweh propounded in Cherokee, -which, of course, he understood, and the sturdy cautious response of -the British commandant. Captain Howard had not thought so much about -Biblical matters since he sat and swung his feet in his callow days to -be catechised by the nursery governess. - -“Did he have a house that could float?” demanded the interrogator. - -“Oh, he did,--he did indeed,” declared Captain Howard, freely. - -There was a certain satisfaction perceptible on the face of Rolloweh, -despite the enigmatical cast given it by the loss of his eye. The other -head-men, too, assisting at this unique literary exercise, showed an -animation, a gleam of triumph, at every confirmation of the ancient -Biblical stories found by the early missionaries to be curiously, -mysteriously familiar to all the pagan Cherokees, distorted in detail -sometimes, and sometimes in pristine proportions. When a sudden -blight fell upon the smooth progress of this comparative theology -and the question awoke from Captain Howard no responsive assurance -of knowledge, Raymond was more sensibly impressed by the gloom, the -disappointment that settled upon the faces of the head-men on the -“great white seat.” He could not understand it. The Indians were very -subtle--or did they really desire the verification of what they had -been taught by the missionary. - -The “beloved square” was absolutely silent. The shadow of a white cloud -high in the blue zenith crossed the smooth sanded space; they could -hear the Tugaloo River fretting on the rocks a mile down-stream. The -bare branches of the encompassing forests, with no sign that the spring -of the year pulsed in their fibres, that the sap was rising, clashed -lightly together in a vagrant gust and fell still again. - -Captain Howard knitted a puzzled brow, and his men, ranged in tiers of -seats back of him, who had been startled and amazed beyond expression -by the unexpected developments, gazed down upon him with a ludicrous -anxiety lest he fail to acquit himself smartly and do himself and the -command credit, and with an _esprit de corps_ wholly at variance with -the subject-matter of the examination. - -“Why, no,” the officer said at last, “I don’t think I ever before heard -of the dogs.” - -He cast a furtive glance of deprecation at the missionary, who still -stood, listening unmoved and immovable, fixing his eyes with a look of -whimsical self-communing on the ground as if waiting, steeling himself -in patience till this folly should wear itself out of its own fatuity. - -“Never heard of the Dogs of Hell?” Rolloweh at last asked with a tone -insistently calculated to jog the refractory memory. Raymond marked -with a renewal of surprise his eagerness that the officer should -retract. Captain Howard frowned with impatience. What an ordeal was -this! That the life of a blatant and persistent preacher--yet an old -and a saintly man--should depend upon the accuracy of his recollection -of Scriptural details to which he had not given more than a passing -thought for thirty years. What strange unimagined whim could be -actuating the Indians? He might have prevaricated had he but a -serviceable phrase to fill the breach. He could not foresee the result, -and he dubiously adhered to the truth. - -“I have heard of Cerberus, the three-headed classical dog, you know, -Mr. Morton. But I don’t remember any religious dog at all.” - -There was silence for a time. Then Rolloweh began to speak again, and -the voice of Captain Howard’s interpreter quavered as he proceeded to -instruct his sturdy commander. - -“You surely know that as you go to hell you reach a deep gulf full -of fire. A pole is stretched across it, with a dog at each end. The -beloved man of the king of England must know that pole right well?” - -Captain Howard doggedly shook his head. - -“Never heard of the pole.” - -Rolloweh persisted, and the interpreter quavered after. - -“The wicked--the great Capteny, precious to the hearts of the -Cherokees, cannot be considered of the number--the wicked are chased by -one of the dogs on to this pole, and while crossing the fiery gulf the -dog at the other end shakes the pole and they fall off into Hell. Now -surely the great Capteny remembers the Dogs of Hell?” - -Surely Captain Howard’s face seemed incapable of such a look of -supplication as he sent toward Mr. Morton, who was gazing smilingly -straight at him, as if the whole session were an invented diversion -for the day. The clergyman gave no intimation as to how to meet the -situation, and Captain Howard reiterated sturdily--“Never heard of any -religious dogs,” and lapsed into silence. - -He was beginning to grow extremely disquieted, to doubt his wisdom in -coming in response to their summons, and sooth to say if he had dreamed -of the intention animating it he would have considered twice ere he -consented. He had thought only of soothing their rancors and smoking -the “friend pipe.” The freakish fierce temper of the Cherokees could -not be trusted, and they felt aggrieved in a certain sort that they -were not left to such solace as they might find in their polytheism, or -Great Spirit worship, or the necromancy of their Conjuring-Stone, but -must needs be converted or regenerated on the plan of salvation which -the missionary set forth with such ruthless logic. It was evident that -they had found it necessary to discredit the preacher, and with this -view the assemblage had been gathered as witnesses. Albeit Captain -Howard did not understand its trend, he saw the investigation was -going amiss,--Mr. Morton’s life would prove the forfeit. He trembled, -too, for the lives of his escort--they were but a handful among some -hundreds of vigorous braves. His were troops flushed with recent -victories, and if he had found it hard to witness unmoved the venerable -missionary before such a tribunal, how must the scene strike the young, -ardent, impulsive soldiers? Some thoughtless action, some inconsiderate -word or look, and the lives of all would not be worth a moment’s -purchase. - -The investigation fared little better when it quitted the infernal -regions. Captain Howard, troubled, flushed, with an unsteady eye and -an uncertain manner, watched disconsolately by his whole escort, knew -nothing about a multiplicity of heavens. - -He had heard the phrase “seven heavens” in ordinary conversation, but -he had never been taught it was Scriptural. He was prompted, urged, -goaded to a modification of this statement. Did he not know that -the first heaven was little higher than the tops of the Great Smoky -Mountains, but this proved too warm--therefore God created a second -heaven, and then others until the ideal temperature was reached in the -seventh heaven, where the Great Spirit dwelt, which was the reason -that in prayer all should raise the hands seven times before speaking? -No, the Capteny knew none of these things. And Rolloweh’s eye, resting -on him with an access of rancor, suggested a doubt of the officer’s -ignorance of such simple and obvious lore. He was found deficient, too, -in any knowledge of a statement made by Rolloweh that one of the most -significant warnings given rebellious man before the Deluge was the -unprecedented fact that several infants were born with whole sets of -teeth. - -This ignorance vanished in the meeting with Moses. The officer knew -him well and was even able to recognize him under the name of Wasi. -In the wilderness Captain Howard, in the phrase of to-day, was “all -there.” Never did pilgrims so gayly fare through benighted wastes as he -and Rolloweh, while they traced all the consecutive steps toward the -Promised Land and lived anew the familiar incidents of the wanderings. -True, he gave a lamentably uncertain sound as to the tint of the -standards, and did not believe that the Holy Scriptures stated that one -was white and one was red, but Rolloweh so slurred this matter that it -was obvious to all observers that the two men were practically of one -mind and one source of information thus far. - -The escort had taken heart of grace at perceiving their commander’s -feet once more on solid ground--so to speak--in fact, they waxed so -insolently confident as to grow drearily tired and absent-minded, as if -at prolonged Sunday prayers in garrison or a lengthy sermon, but the -attention of the Indians never flagged. Suddenly the crisis came when -Rolloweh demanded:-- - -“The Capteny is a Christian?” - -Captain Howard stanchly declared that he was. - -“If a man should strike you on one cheek, Capteny, would you turn the -other?” - -The blow had fallen--the bomb had burst. Yet Captain Howard, somewhat -blown, perhaps from his brisk jaunt through the wilderness, did not -realize its full significance. He sat silent for a moment, blankly -staring. - -There was a stir in the great white seat of the “holy cabin,” sinister, -inimical. An answer must be forthcoming. Captain Howard hesitated, a -vicarious fear in his eyes--a fear for the missionary who suddenly -called out--“Oh, man of blood! Would you forswear yourself?” - -“No,” he said, glad to rely on his sturdy veracity; “I would not turn -the other cheek.” - -“And this,” cried Rolloweh, addressing the assemblage with sudden -passion, “the forked tongue of this old serpent of the provinces”--he -waved his hand at arm’s length toward the missionary, “teaches is -religion for the Cherokee. Not for the British! The religion that has -been the same road till now branches with a white, smooth path for the -British, and a bloody, rocky, dark path for the Cherokee.” - -A visible sensation swayed the crowd. The Indians exchanged glances of -doubt, surprise, excitement, or triumph as the individual sentiment -of congratulation or disappointment or indignation predominated. The -soldiers looked at one another in dismay. Captain Howard, fairly -ambushed, hardly knew which way to turn. Only the missionary stood -unmoved, still gazing smilingly, indulgently, at the officer who had -begun to fear that he had unwittingly compassed the old man’s ruin. - -“Did the Capteny ever see any other Christian Briton who was struck -and who turned the other cheek?”--Rolloweh demanded, pushing his -advantage. Even the interpreter’s voice faltered as he put the query -into English. - -Captain Howard was minded to vouchsafe no reply. He had already been -entrapped, it was true, through too anxious a desire to placate the -savages, to conserve the peace of the frontier, and save the life -of the old missionary. He might have done harm, rather than good, -so impossible was it to forecast the event under circumstances so -unprecedented. Then he resolutely swallowed his pride. The safety of -his men was his primal consideration. - -“No,” he replied, albeit a trifle sullenly, “I never saw a Christian -struck who turned the other cheek.” - -Rolloweh rose, with a fierce smile, bending to the crowd, waving both -arms with the palms outward. - -“If a man took your cloak, O Christian Capteny, would you give him your -coat also?” he demanded. - -“No,” snarled the Christian captain, “I’d give him a beating.” - -There was a guttural sarcastic laugh around the square, ceasing as -Rolloweh resumed: - -“But this is the religion for the Cherokees--that they may be meek and -broken, and after the land fling the weapon, and wear the yoke and drag -the chain. Men and brothers, the spirits of the dead will rise against -you if you suffer this. It is not agreeable to the old beloved rites -that we tolerate this serpent of the forked tongue to scoff at our -ancient worship and bring in a new religion, manufactured for the free -and independent Cherokee, which means British rule.” - -There is something strangely daunting in the half-suppressed tumult -of an angry crowd. It was not merely that an imprecation was heard -here and the sibilance of whispered conspiracy there, or that restless -gestures betokened a rising menace,--it was that a total change had -come upon the aspect of the assemblage, as unmistakable as if a -storm-cloud had blighted the day. The people were convinced. The work -of the missionary was annihilated in this masterstroke of craft. To him -it was only a reason for a renewal of his labors. When Captain Howard, -tearing a leaf from his note-book, wrote a few words upon it and sent -it into the “beloved square” by the interpreter, the clergyman merely -glanced at it with a shaking head, and tossed it aside, saying with -a smile, “No--my place is here. Woe is unto me if I preach not the -gospel!” - -Rolloweh had watched the communication with jealous disfavor, but as -the familiar words resounded on the air his eye glittered, his long, -cruel, flat lips were sternly compressed; he glanced over to the -booth where the English officer so incongruously was stationed, and -enunciated the fatal words,--“Your beloved man will be removed.” - -The attentive crowd caught the phrase, and a keen, savage cry of -triumph suddenly broke forth, unlike anything ever voiced by civilized -man--an utterance blended of the shrill exultation of a beast of prey, -and the guttural human halloo, indescribable, nerve-thrilling, never -to be forgotten, once heard. The transformation was complete. They were -no more men--not even savages; they had entered upon that peculiar -phase of their being which seems to those of different standards -absolutely demoniac and demented. There was no right reason in some of -the faces gazing at the impassive, unmoved old man in the centre of -the square. They were waiting only the word for an act from which the -imagination shrinks appalled. Captain Howard’s fears were intensified -for his stalwart young soldiers, despite the terrors of the retributive -power of England which the recent Cherokee war against the British -government had served to induce in the tribe. As the swaying of the -crowd and the gaudily decorated figures of the head-men in the “holy -white cabin” betokened the breaking-up of the assemblage, he ordered a -young sergeant to have the men fall in quietly and keep them together. -Captain Howard’s attention was suddenly bespoken by the appearance of -two or three chiefs who claimed a personal acquaintance, and who were -approaching across the square to meet him. They were wreathing their -harsh countenances into sardonic smiles, but they called out: “How! -How!” very pleasantly by way of salutation. - -Constrained to await their greeting, he bethought himself that perhaps -some new influence, a fresh urgency, might avail with the stubborn old -missionary. - -“Raymond,” he said in a low voice to the ensign, “do you go to the -Reverend Mr. Morton and use your best endeavors to persuade him to -embark with us. If he remains here after our departure I fear me much -these damn scoundrels will burn him alive.” - -“I think I can persuade him, sir,” said the capable and confident -ensign. - -Captain Howard looked hard at the dashing and debonair young officer, -erect, stalwart, alert, clear-eyed, as he lifted his hand to the -brim of his cocked hat and turned away, jostled considerably in his -movements, and perhaps intentionally, by a dozen or more contumacious -looking tribesmen, who were awkwardly crowding about the booth assigned -to the soldiers. - -“Take three men with you, Ensign,” added Captain Howard. He had a -positive fear that alone the subaltern might be attacked in the -press, throttled, whisked away, tortured on the sly, and mysteriously -disappearing, be lost to the service forever. “A trio of wide red Irish -mouths,” he thought, “could not easily be silenced.” - -And with this preparation for the graces of social intercourse he -turned to greet the three chiefs who now came up with acclamations -of pleasure, desirous of showing their companions the degree of -consideration they enjoyed on the part of the commander of his -Majesty’s fort. - - - - -CHAPTER X - - -To a man whose life is regulated on a basis of a difference in -rank, a part of whose training is to conserve the respect due -his military station and his social supremacy, who is habituated -to stiff formalities of address, both in phrase and bearing, the -familiarities of an inferior have a grossness which a custom of lenient -condescension, or kindly indulgence, or careless indifference does not -as readily perceive. But no man, however little fastidious, would have -relished the peculiar impediments to Raymond’s progress across the -limited space of the “beloved square” to the spot where he thought--he -could now no longer see for the press--the old missionary was standing. -Indeed, Raymond might have better exerted tolerance had he not -perceived that the demonstration was actuated by a rancorous spirit. -The contact with the blanketed shoulders of the braves intentionally -thrust against him to impede his progress; a peering, painted face -stuck almost against his own, the survey followed by a wild cackle of -derision; a feathered crest of a man, not so tall as he, jerked into -his eyes, were incidents calculated to try the self-control of an -ardent, impetuous young soldier to the extremest tension. He set his -teeth and held hard to his composure, though his cheek flushed and his -eye glittered. Naught that was personal should jeopardize the success -of the forlorn hope of his appeal to the fears of the old missionary. -The sturdy soldiers at his heels marked his demeanor and emulated his -self-restraint. Presently, he almost ran against the old man, still -bare-headed, still between his guards, replying in Cherokee to the -jeers or reproaches of his recent converts as they gathered about him, -upbraiding for double-dealing, and threatening as if with the just -wrath of the deceived. He had a wistful, pained look as he sought to -justify himself, to explain the misunderstanding, and it cut Raymond -to the heart. He was of the temperament which throws itself with ardor -into the joys and griefs of others--especially he deprecated infinitely -the sight of sorrow in the aged. Let the young wrestle with the woes -of life--not when strength, and hope, and illusion are all gone! He -accosted the old man in a cheery voice, speaking in English, that the -crowd might catch no chance word of offence. - -“Captain Howard presents his compliments, Reverend sir, and wishes me -to say that we have a place in our boat, which is at your service, and -we shall feel much honored if you will occupy it,” he said. - -The old man, turning from the revilings and the insults heaped upon him -by the savage rabble, must have felt an attraction toward the young, -spirited face, and have softened to the sympathy in the ensign’s eyes, -the respect that vibrated in every inflection of his voice. - -“I thank you, my young friend,” he said in a kindly tone, “but my -station is here. I cannot desert my post. I am a soldier of the Cross.” - -“Under your favor, Reverend sir, we are taught that we have no right to -throw away our lives in desperate emprises, to the loss and detriment -of the British service. And it seems to me that the rule ought to hold -in the service of the Cross that sorely needs good soldiers.” - -The argument struck home, and the old missionary made haste to justify -his position. - -“There is not more danger than usual,” he declared, “I have often heard -such threats. I have weathered many such storms. My place is here. -I must recall these troubled and wandering sheep that have believed -in the truth and trusted in me, and whose faith has this day been so -rudely jostled.” - -“Troubled and wandering--wolves!” Raymond could not help exclaiming, -as he noted the furious faces, the menacing gestures of a group here -and there colloguing apart, their feathered heads almost touching -each other, their drapery of coarse blankets intermingled as they -stood together, an absorbed brow lifted now and again to glance at -the subject of their conference. The dispensation that the sun shall -shine alike upon the just and the unjust seemed more an insensate -process of nature than a divine ordinance at that moment as he looked -about mechanically in the pause, noting the pellucid brilliance of the -noontide splendor that lay over all the wrangling crowd of braves, the -huddled huts of the town, the vast stretches of leafless woods that -had yet the aspect of winter, the blurred violet tones of the hills -hard by, the far-reaching of the myriads of azure ranges, the differing -blue of the sky as it bent to meet the horizon. So unwontedly still had -been the town during the morning that a drift of white swans lay asleep -in the river, close to the moorings of Raymond’s pettiaugre. Now, -warned by the tumult on shore, they had lifted their heads and were -beginning to glide imperceptibly along. A deer, approaching the town -on the hither side, had taken sudden affright, and, plunging into the -water, was swimming the river so near at hand that its head presented -a fair target to the short-range rifles of the day and even for an -arrow. No marksman sought the opportunity. The minds of the braves -were all intent, undivided. The dogs of the town caught the scent -and sight, and half a dozen hounds raced to the water-side, lustily -yelping excitement. But there was no human cry of encouragement, no -command to hie them on, and though one plunged in and swam twenty yards -in the wake of the fleeing animal, he lost heart in thus proceeding -on his own initiative, and turning about, came splashing in to the -bank, all unnoticed. Significant incidents these trifles seemed to -Raymond, showing an absorption that betokened no gentle fate to the -old missionary. He marvelled that the old man could be so mad. He -determined on a renewed effort. - -“You could return at a more propitious time, dear sir. And permit me -to express my wonder, Mr. Morton,” he said, with gentle reproach, -“that though you do not entertain fears for yourself, you have no -consideration of the fears of your friends for you. Captain Howard, who -is a man of great experience on the frontier, thinks your life is not -worth an hour’s purchase after our departure, and I, myself, who am no -alarmist, feel that if we leave you here I look upon you for the last -time.” - -Despite Raymond’s self-control, he was greatly harried during this -speech by the antics of a young tribesman, who had taken up his -position on the other side of Mr. Morton and was reproducing in grisly -caricature every word and gesture of the British officer--even to -the motions of the cocked hat in his hand. The ensign had uncovered -in token of his respect and as he talked he gesticulated, in his -earnestness, with the hat. In the florid imitation of mockery the -Indian permitted Mr. Morton’s hat, which he himself held, to sharply -graze, in one of his flourishes, the pallid cheek of the aged minister. -It was in effect a buffet, and Raymond gave a quick audible gasp, -recovering with difficulty his impassive demeanor. - -“My dear young sir,” said the old man, “I have stanch friends among -these good people, who will not see me evilly entreated. I cannot -put aside--I cannot postpone the Lord’s work to a more convenient -season. I must remain--I must repair the damage to the faith of these -new Christians done by their chief’s crafty cross-questioning of the -commandant to-day. I must not leave my sheep to the lion, the weaklings -of all my flock to the ravening wolves of doubt. I must be with -them--but have no fears for me. I have twice been bound to the stake, -and yet came safely off.” - -Raymond was at his wits’ end. There was a shifting in the crowds. They -were converging down the sunny slope toward the river-bank. Beyond -their heads he caught a gleam of scarlet against the shining current, -near the white flashing of the swans’ wings as the great birds rose -in flight. The soldiers were embarking. There came to his ears the -loud, guttural voice of the chief of the town, Rolloweh, pronouncing -the sonorous periods of his official farewell to Captain Howard. Time -pressed. The response of the captain would be curt and concise,--there -was scant utility to mint phrases for Rolloweh,--and Raymond could well -divine that the commandant was sick at heart. On the smooth spaces of -the “beloved square” there lingered those inimical plotting groups, -still whispering, still casting speculative glances at the missionary -and the ensign, still waiting, Raymond faithfully believed, to seize -the old man and bear him to his doom, before the English boats should -be a furlong down the river. - -The ensign’s patience, never a formidable endowment, gave way suddenly. -He clapped his hat on his head with a nonchalant flap. He turned a -burning eye on two stalwart young soldiers of his escort and spoke but -one short phrase, with a significant gesture. The intelligent fellows -comprehended the extraordinary order in an instant. With light willing -steps they ran forward, bent down, seized the Reverend Mr. Morton -in their strong young arms, lifted him bodily, and at a swift, sure, -steady run they set out with their captive for the river-bank, their -young officer close on their heels calling out in Cherokee, with glad -bursts of laughter, “The ‘beloved man’ shall be removed!” - -The whole community was in an uproar. The culmination came so suddenly, -with no sort of warning, that the crowds by the water-side, remembering -the urgency of the chiefs that the “beloved man” should be removed, -fell in with the apparent spirit of the exploit and shouted and laughed -as at some rude jest and boisterous horse-play. The conspirators of -the “beloved square” did not catch the significance of the incident -for one brief moment of stunned surprise, roused as they were from -the absorptions of their secret plottings, but though they came -howling their baffled rage and vengeance and frenzied protests hard -upon Raymond’s party, that one moment saved the life of the Reverend -Mr. Morton. Their voices were overborne in the joyous clamors of the -populace, not yet admitted into the plans of revenge, and chorusing -the ensign’s jocular mockeries. Raymond, himself standing in the bow -of the pettiaugre and urging his crew,--“Push off--Let fall--Back -oars--Row--Pull, lads, pull for your lives!” in a half-stifled -undertone of excitement, did not feel that the return trip was a -possibility till the pettiaugre reached the centre of the shining -stream, then turning southward caught the current and began to slip and -glide along as fast as oar could ply, and the momentum of the stream -could aid. Even then a rifle ball came whizzing past. - -“It is nothing,” said Captain Howard, reassuringly--“some lawless -miscreant. The head-men intend no demonstration.” - -The plans of the conspirators, divulged in that moment of embarkation, -had mightily caught the fancy of the “mad young men” of the -assemblage--that class on whom the Cherokee rulers charged the -responsibility of all the turmoils and riots, those who fought the -battles and endured the hardships, and carried out the treacherous -enterprises and marauding massacres which the head-men secretly planned -and ordered and abetted. Some who had just been rollicking with -laughter came running after the boats along the bank, their breath -short, their features swelled with savage rage, their eyes distended -with futile ferocity. Some were crying out mockeries, and blasphemies, -and furious maledictions on the head of the old missionary, and -others, among whom were the conspirators of the “beloved square,” were -protesting craftily that the missionary was abducted against his will -and was to be carried as a prisoner to Fort Prince George--adjuring the -commandant to permit him to return and threatening force to stop the -boats if he were not immediately set ashore. - -“We shall meet them, sir, when we round the bend,” said Raymond, in a -low voice to Captain Howard, for the river made a deep swirling curve -around a considerable peninsula, and a swift runner cutting straight -across this tongue of land would have little difficulty in anticipating -the passing of the pettiaugre, although the men were bending to the -oars with every muscle stretched, and the iterative impact of the -strokes was like the rapid ticking of a clock. - -As the boats came shooting with an arrowy swiftness around the -peninsula, an Indian, the foremost runner, was already there, standing -high on a rock. His figure on the promontory, distinct against the blue -sky with his hands up-stretched, the palms together, ready to spring -and dive, was visible from far off. He looked back over his shoulder -to make sure that other Cherokees were following, then timing his -adventure with incredible precision, he sprang into the water with a -great splash, was invisible a few seconds, and came up alongside the -pettiaugre, with a hand on the gunwale, near the bow. - -A hundred braves, almost all armed, stood at gaze on the lower banks, -a trifle blown by the swift pace, a score or two laying aside their -weapons, apparently preparatory to entering the water. The soldiers, -well within rifle range, all frontier veterans, young though they were, -as obedient and as unmoved as parts of a mechanism, rowed steadily on, -disregarding their muskets, stowed in the bottom of the pettiaugre. -Only the man nearest the Indian, hanging to the boat, contrived in a -lengthened stroke to hit the pendulous legs some heavy covert blows -with a feathered oar, which, sooth to say, might have broken less -stalwart limbs. - -“Ensign,” suggested Robin Dora, in the bow, plaintively, “wad it fash -your honor gif I dinged that fist a clout wi’ ae drum-stick? It’s gey -close to my shoulther.” - -“Be silent,” said Raymond, severely, and Robin Dora subsided, even -ceasing to glance over his shoulder at the uncanny hand so close to his -arm. - -Captain Howard, in the haste of embarkation had taken his place in -Raymond’s boat, and his own had fallen under the conduct of the -adjutant. It followed like a shadow the craft in the lead, as silent -as a shadow, as swift. Captain Howard had not by virtue of his rank -assumed command, the crew being already organized. He earnestly desired -to provoke no attack from the Indians, but he expected it momently, and -fingered his pistols in his belt as he eyed the gathering tribesmen -on shore; under these circumstances he was in doubt as to his wisest -course; the impunity of the figure clinging to the boat invited -recruits, yet to it Raymond gave not a glance. Captain Howard was moved -to a comment. - -“You give transportation to passengers, Ensign?” he queried. - -“It seems so, sir,” Raymond replied, succinctly. - -It had evidently been the plan of the Indians to send out swimmers -to the boats, and demand and secure the return of the missionary on -the pretext that he was torn from them against his own desire, and if -the crew dared to refuse, despite the coercion of the rifles of the -hundreds on shore, the swimmers were to upset the craft, seize their -prey, and make for the main body. The leader had far out-stripped his -following, and his zeal had jeopardized the practicability of the feat. -He had given the little British force the opportunity to make a great -display of coolness and indifference. The contempt with which their -demonstration was treated disconcerted the Cherokees, who relished -naught so much as the terrors their presence was wont to inspire,--the -surprise, the agitation, and commotion that were the sequence of their -sudden attacks. - -The crowd on shore stood at gaze, watching the unexpected scene--the -Indian clinging like a reptile to the boat, while its keel cleft the -clear brilliant waters, and the silent crew rowed like men spurting for -a prize. Suddenly the Indian, belabored possibly beyond endurance by -an eccentric oar, made a movement as though he would spring into the -boat. Raymond swiftly leaned forward, and with a courteous manner, as -of offering aid, caught the Cherokee’s arm with a grip like steel, and -fairly lifted him into the pettiaugre. - -The Indian stood for a moment, staring at the calm faces of his -enemies. Had he been fifty instead of one the matter might have -resulted far more seriously, but his fellows had not followed; their -plans had not matured; they stood doubtful, watching the results of -his effort and its futility, for he was going straight down the river -as a prisoner to Fort Prince George. He looked bewildered, agitated, -glanced wildly from one to another, then as if fearing detention leaped -high into the air, fell into the water, and struck out for the shore -as fast as his limbs might carry him, while the tribesmen on the bank, -whom he had expected to lead, burst into derisive cries, and laughter, -and gay buffoonery. - -It was the turn of the tide; it was the trifle that so often broke -the designs of the inconstant Indians. The two officers knew that the -game was played out when they heard, far up-stream, so fast was their -progress, the shouts of raillery and ridicule as the adventurous wight -waded ashore. - -“Very well managed, Ensign Raymond,” said Captain Howard, laughing with -comfortable reassurance. “It might have been much more serious.” - -“But is this well, Captain Howard?” said the deep melancholy voice of -the missionary. “I am a British subject. I have done naught to forfeit -my independence of action, my liberty. I am made a prisoner, and torn -from my sacred work and my chosen habitation against my will. I am in -no sense within your jurisdiction or under your control as commandant -of Fort Prince George, and I protest against this infringement of my -rights as most unwarrantable tyranny.” - -Captain Howard, who happened to be standing in the pettiaugre, and -being a landsman had no sea legs to speak of, toppled to and fro in -his surprise and agitation, and had he not fallen instead against the -bulk of a tall and burly oarsman he might have fallen overboard. He -hastened to place himself on a seat, and then, red-faced, dumbfounded, -and sputtering with half a dozen phrases that tumbled over each other -in his amazement he exclaimed:-- - -“My God! sir, do I understand you? Can I believe my ears? Are you not -with us now by your own free will, the exercise of your own mature -judgment?” - -“Indeed, no, sir, as I have already stated,” said the old man, with -dignity. “Did you not see, sir, that I was literally carried to the -boat in the arms of soldiers under the command of your own officer?” - -“By God Almighty, sir,” declared the agitated commandant, “I swear when -I saw you carried in the arms of the soldiers I supposed it was in a -measure to shield you from the fury and malevolence of the Indians. -Ensign Raymond,” he turned upon the young officer, who was calm enough -to stand steadily, “you shall answer for this. I empowered you only to -invite, to persuade Mr. Morton to come with us.” - -“And I did persuade him, sir,” Raymond stoutly averred. - -“Do you define ‘persuasion’ as the kidnapping of a minister of God? -Damme, but you shall answer for this!” - -“I am more than willing, sir, to endure any punishment that I may have -deserved,” Raymond replied, downcast and dreary. It seemed to him that -he was now always under the ban of reprimand. “But to leave Mr. Morton -there was to my mind like committing murder on a minister of God when I -have the means to bring him away.” - -Captain Howard had a sudden recollection of the faces of hate and -craft, the frenzied foolish reasoning, the fateful ferocity of -temperament. He shuddered even yet for the old man’s sake. - -“You ought to have had the reverend gentleman’s consent,” he said more -mildly. - -“It is hard to be old and poor, and of no earthly consideration,” -plained the old man. “My consent was very easily dispensed with. But--I -_am_ a British subject!” - -“He ought to have _given_ his consent,” Raymond boldly replied to -Captain Howard, “and saved one who only sought to do him kindness from -the necessity of incurring ignominy for his sake. But I care not,” he -continued, doggedly, tossing his head in its cocked hat. “I should -liefer have taken his life, old and gray as he is, than have left him -where he stood, if art, or force, or persuasion failed to get him away. -No--no, I could not leave him there--if I am to be broke for it!” he -declared with passion. - -The generous temper of the old missionary was reasserted, although the -smart in his heart for his deserted Indian sheep was keen. He looked up -wistfully, anxiously, at the young officer who stood in the shadow of -discipline, of professional ruin, perhaps, on his account. Oh, it was -not his mission to wound, to drag down; but to bind up, to assuage, to -save. He spoke suddenly and with a different intonation. - -“You intended a benefit, doubtless, young sir. You urged me first -with every argument in your power, I admit. You found it hard and -not without danger to yourself to persist so long, till indeed the -very moment of departure. You shall incur no rebuke nor ignominy on -my account. Your methods of ‘persuasion,’ it is true, are somewhat -arbitrary,” he added with a wintry smile. “But, Captain Howard, I call -you to witness--and soldiers, bear witness, too--I accompany this -expedition of my own free will, for doubtless the commandant, after -what he has said, would put me ashore if I so desired. I am going to -Fort Prince George on the invitation of the commandant very thankfully, -and I am grateful to this kind young man for ‘persuading’ me.” - -He held out his hand to Raymond, who was still standing. The ensign -was startled by this sudden change, and touched by the look in the -old man’s face. He made haste to offer his hand in response, and sank -down on one knee beside the seat to obviate the distance between them. -Suddenly Raymond became aware of that which in the stress of the -embarkation and the unusual excitement of their progress down the river -had escaped the notice both of officers and soldiers--the fact that -in the rapid progress across the “beloved square” some heavy missile -unnoticed in the mêlée had inflicted a severe bruise and cut on the -face of the old man; a livid line, ghastly and lacerated, extended -almost from brow to chin. It had bled freely, and wisps of the thin -gray hair were matted upon the wrinkled brow, even more pallid than its -wont, for the shock had been severe, inducing for some little time a -state of semi-insensibility. - -At the sight of this Raymond cried out sharply, as if he, himself, had -been struck; the blood surged swiftly into his face; his heart beat -almost to suffocation; he looked piteously into the faded, gentle eyes, -full of that sanctity which hallows a stainless old age. The sense of -sacrilege and horror overcame him. - -“Those fiends have wounded you!” he exclaimed, in the low, appalled, -staccato tones of intense excitement. Suddenly his eyes filled, and -hiding his face against the worn sleeve of the old clergyman’s coat, he -burst into a flood of tears, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. - -Captain Howard stared in blunt and absolute amaze, but Mr. Morton, -better accustomed to ebullitions of emotion, only gently patted the -soldier’s scarlet coat as if he were a child. - -“I hope you will be more careful how you persuade people after this,” -said the commandant, with the manner of improving a moral lesson. Now, -however, that Captain Howard had recovered somewhat from the shock of -the interference with the liberty of a British subject, he was disposed -to congratulate himself on the fact that he had the missionary hard and -fast in the boat, and to think that Raymond had conducted himself in a -dilemma almost insoluble with extraordinary promptitude, resource, and -nerve, and to be rather proud of the subaltern’s ready aplomb. - -As to the tears--they were incomprehensible to Captain Howard, and -by the rank and file they were deemed a disgrace to the service. The -soldiers could not enter into Raymond’s complex emotions, and they -were at once the source of wonder and disparagement. - -When the discipline which had prevailed at the outset was somewhat -relaxed, and the men at the rowlocks, still pulling steadily down the -river, were free to talk in subdued voices, the events of the day -were canvassed with much spirit. The personality of various Indians -was discussed, certain parties from the upper towns were recognized -by soldiers who had seen more than one campaign in this region, the -jeopardy of the occasion was argued, individual experiences narrated, -threats that had been overheard were repeated, and it was agreed that -the ensign’s little party had been in great danger during the progress -of the “persuasion”--they all grinned at the word. Then one of the -young giants who had performed the feat of abduction, remarked--“But I -always feel safe with the ensign. Somehow he allus gits the short cuts.” - -“I did too--_thin_; more fool, me! Begorra, I niver dhramed he was such -a blasted babby!” - -They giggled at the word, and when their rations were served, it was -pleasant to old Mr. Morton and the officers to see such hilarity among -the honest fellows. They could not divine the men were badgering the -quarter-master-sergeant from time to time to know why no “sago-gruel” -or “sugar-sops” had been provided for the nourishment of the “babby” -they had in command, and threatening to report the deficiency to -Captain Howard. - -Raymond had recovered his serenity. He had snatched up the hat of the -old missionary, when the mimicking Indian had tossed it on the ground, -and now he tenderly helped him to adjust it. As the boat glided on into -the sunset waters, enriched with the largess of the sunset sky, and the -tranquil evening came on apace, and the shadows leaned far across the -western bank, the subjects that allured the old man’s mind reasserted -their fascination, and he talked on with placid pleasure of the Hebraic -origin of the Indians, their possible identity with the “Lost Tribes,” -the curious similarity of certain of their religious observances with -the rites of the Mosaic dispensation, and cognate themes, while Raymond -punctiliously listened, and Captain Howard dozed and nodded with no -more compunction than if he were in church. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - - -Great were the rejoicings at Fort Prince George when the two -pettiaugres pulled in with the tidings that as yet the peace of the -frontier was unthreatened. The handful of troops that had garrisoned -the British fort on the verge of the Cherokee country had endured -their exile, the hardships of savage warfare, the peculiar dangers -that menaced them, the rude conditions of their environment with a -sturdy fortitude, a soldierly courage, and a long patience. But now -that their return to the provinces was imminent, preparations under -way for the evacuation of the post, marching orders expected by every -express, they could scarcely await, day by day, the approaching event. -They jealously scanned every current incident lest a reason for a -postponement lurk therein; they canvassed every item of news from the -Indian country for signs of uprising; they took cognizance of the -personal traits of the men of influence among the Cherokees, and in the -guard-room and the galleries of the barracks theorized and collogued -together on their mischief-making proclivities,--all as these tended to -affect the liberation from the wilderness. Some of the soldiers were -pathetically pessimistic, and thought death or accident would frustrate -their participation in the joyous exodus. “I’m feared _something_ -will happen,” one protested. “I’m fairly feared to cross the level -parade, lest I fall down on it and break my neck.” And a forlorn -wight in hospital, who had known serious wounds, and the torture of -the small-pox, and the anguish of a broken limb, suffering now from a -touch of malarial fever, earnestly besought the chirurgeon daily to be -frank with him and let him know if his early demise would keep him here -forever. - -Mervyn did not share the general eager anticipation of the return of -the expedition, and he deprecated greatly that Raymond should have been -at the commandant’s ear before he, himself, should have the opportunity -to report the destruction of the granary. That the ensign would make -the most of his supposed dereliction in the matter he did not doubt. -Since he had regained his composure and recouped his self-esteem by -the favorable reception of his suit by Miss Howard, he had begun to -realize that he had let his wounded vanity carry him too far in his -antagonism toward Raymond. In the vexatious little contretemps on the -occasion of the dinner of welcome, when, like an egregious coxcomb, -he had seemed to expect that her next words would be a practical -avowal of her preference for him, he had detected both divination and -ridicule in Raymond’s eyes. But this was an untenable cause of quarrel. -He had fallen, instead, upon the omissions of the guard report, and -he began to be painfully aware that if Captain Howard knew that -this information, on which he had based his report, had come to him -merely through the gossip of his groom, _he_ would have received the -reprimand instead of Raymond. He was particularly pleasant to Jerrold, -with that gracious unbending of the rich and highly placed, as if in -the main values of humanity these fortuitous conditions count not at -all. But Lieutenant Jerrold was well aware that as officer of the day -he had fought the fire and saved the fort in the absence of the acting -commander, and he had none of the fine-spun generosities of Raymond’s -character to induce him to disregard either a nettling fact or an -actual fault. He, too, was bland and inscrutable, and Mervyn could not -for his life divine whether Captain Howard would be satisfied with the -cursory report of his captain-lieutenant, or would he scan the reports -of each tour of service during his absence on the expedition. - -To Mervyn’s amazement, the commandant met at the gates of Fort Prince -George the first intimation of the burning of the granary, and the -spirit in which Captain Howard received it might indicate that he -expected to live exclusively on Indian meal for the rest of his life. -His quick, keen glance as entering, he paused under the archway of the -gate, taking a cursory view of the whole place, fell upon a vacancy -where the gable of the granary used to show from over the sheds of -the stables. His eyes widened, the blood surged up into his cheek, he -stepped forward two paces. - -“My God!” he cried. “Where’s the granary, Mervyn?” - -The face of the captain-lieutenant flushed. Jerrold and Innis were -both standing by, and it was indeed hard that through no fault of his -he should be put at so gross a disadvantage. - -“The granary is burned, sir,” he replied. - -“Burned!” volleyed Captain Howard. “Who burned it? Was this -negligence?” he demanded, sternly. - -Mervyn had a sudden monition that Jerrold and Innis were secretly -commenting on the fact which he, himself, was now contemplating -with stunned amazement, that Raymond had not made the most of his -opportunity to decry the captain-lieutenant with a very valid cause. - -“Raymond should have told you,” he began. - -“Raymond has been busy.” Captain Howard nodded his head succinctly. - -“I thought he came here expressly for information about the fire.” - -“I am not asking you why Ensign Raymond did not give me the information -he was sent to gather. I happen myself to know why. I ask you how that -granary came to be burned?” - -“The lightning, sir,” said Mervyn, greatly offended by the tone of his -superior officer. - -“And was it a total loss?” asked Captain Howard. - -“A total loss, sir.” - -Captain Howard set off at a resolute trot toward the charred remains -and stood gazing dolorously down at the blackened, fallen heap of -timbers and the pile of ashes. - -The sound of his familiar voice elicited a responsive whinny of -pleasure from within the stables close at hand, where his own charger -stood at the manger, unconscious of the possibilities of famine that -hung above his high-bred head. - -“What are you doing for feed?” - -“Buying from the Indians of Keowee Town--paying six prices.” - -Captain Howard shook his head disconsolately. During the late war the -public granaries of the Cherokees had been destroyed by the British -commands as punitive measures and the people reduced to the verge of -starvation. The scanty crop of the past summer by no means replaced -those great hoards of provisions, and in his report as to the store -of corn he would have remaining at the time of his departure he -had expressed his intention, entirely approved, to bestow it as a -parting gift upon the neighboring town of Keowee. Now he, himself, -was destitute, and how to forage his force on the march through the -wilderness to Charlestown he could not yet imagine. - -Suddenly--“How did the horses stand it?” Mervyn thought the ordeal -would never end. To answer in his capacity as captain-lieutenant, -temporarily in command, these strict queries in the presence of men -who knew that he had seen naught of the event tried his nerve, his -discretion, his ingenuity to the utmost. He revolted at the mere -simulacrum of a deception, and yet he desired to report the matter to -Captain Howard when they should not be at hand to hear his superior -officer’s blunt comments. He felt that the unlucky chance owed him -this slight shield to his pride. - -He had naturally expected that his report would be made at the usual -time and in the usual manner, when he could explain properly the -details and account for his absence with seemliness and dignity. He -said to himself that no one could have foreseen that instead of making -the official inspection at the regulation time the commandant would be -struck on the instant of his arrival by the absence of the granary and -fly over the whole place, peering into every nook and squawking with -excitement like some old house-keeping hen of a woman. The sight of -the vacant place where the granary should have stood seemed to affect -his nerves as an apparition might have done. He could not be through -quaking over it. Mervyn, however, gave no token of the perturbation -that filled his mind as he turned to Jerrold. - -“You were at the stables, lieutenant.” - -“I had considerable trouble with the horses,” said Jerrold. “They were -terrified, of course, by the noise and glare. I had them led out of the -stalls, thinking the stables might take fire.” - -“Casualties?” sharply asked the captain. - -“Oh, none, sir,” replied Jerrold, with dapper satisfaction. He had -managed with much address an infinite number of details, depending on -scanty resources and urgently pressed for time--“Only one horse, a good -blood bay, became restive and kicked down his stall and caught his off -hind leg in the timbers; somehow, in the mêlée it was broken, and he -had to be shot.” - -“_Only_ one horse,” Captain Howard commented rebukingly. “Are we on -the eve of a march? And the war has left hardly a hoof in the whole -Cherokee country! Do you expect to foot it to Charlestown?” - -Lieutenant Jerrold asserted himself. He wished to marry no one’s -handsome daughter, and he cared to play Piquet with no one’s clever -sister. He would be particular not to exceed the bounds of military -decorum, and that was his only consideration. He knew that he had -exerted himself to the utmost to save the situation, succeeding almost -beyond the possibilities, the responsibility of which devolved on -another man. “I might well have lost them all, sir. The rain had not -begun. The store-house and the armory were both on fire, I had no help -at first, for I dared not call off the main guard--you had twenty -stout fellows in the boats--and the rest of the men were asleep in -barracks; some of them were pulled out of bed by the heels. By your -leave, Captain, one horse is a small tribute to pay to such a lordly -conflagration as that.” - -The commandant, open to conviction, nodded his head meditatively. -Mervyn wondered if he had not noticed the personal pronoun so obtrusive -in Jerrold’s account of the measures he had taken. Mervyn had an -ebullition of indignation against himself as he recognized his own -inmost thought. He was so proud a man he would fain stand well with -himself. Had he not been so cautious a man, so self-conscious, he -would at the moment have blurted out the fact of his absence, instead -of steeling himself against the waiting expectation, the cynical -comment in the eyes of Jerrold and Innis, and postponing the disclosure -till he was sure it could come with a good grace. And then the blunt -captain! He could not submit his pride to the causticities of Howard’s -unprepared surprise and brusque comments. He would say things for which -he would be sorry afterward, for which Mervyn would be more sorry, and -particularly that Jerrold and Innis should hear them. He was angry with -himself, nevertheless, that he should give a galvanic start as Captain -Howard’s voice, keyed to surprise and objection, struck smartly on the -air. - -“Why, that gun, there,” he said, waving his arm toward one of the -cannon on the nearest bastion--“that gun has been fired!” - -For the piece was run back on its chassis and stood as it was left -after the alarm. Jerrold made haste to explain that the men who were -detailed to the service of this gun--there were only a few regular -gunners in the garrison--were with the expedition. Mervyn stipulated -that as the absence of a score had left extra duty for the rest of -the garrison the position of this gun had happened to be neglected, -although it, as well as the rest, had been cleaned and reloaded. - -“Reloaded! But why were they discharged?” demanded Captain Howard, with -wide eyes. - -The sight of the fire naturally attracted the attention of the -Indians--Jerrold explained. They came over from Keowee in canoes by -scores. He was afraid that they would seize the opportunity of the -disaster while all were so busy with the fire to rush the gates. He -ordered the sentinels to disperse them, saying the cannon were to be -fired to appease the storm gods. Any lie might be excused--there was -such a great crowd gathered as near as the counterscarp in front of the -gates. “How many Indians had assembled there, do you think, Mervyn?” -Jerrold asked with a touch of mischief or malice. - -“I don’t know; I didn’t see them,” Mervyn responded, shortly. - -Captain Howard was meditating on the details. - -“You must have had a devil of a time,” he said with emphasis. “Do you -know if the ladies were much frightened?” - -Mervyn was silent, but Jerrold with his crisp, fresh, capable air was -ready to take the word. - -“I think they knew nothing of the fire and the Cherokee demonstration -till everything was over,” he said. - -“You did well--you did well!” the commandant declared, addressing no -one in particular, and Mervyn, who could hardly say, “It was not I,” -saw him, with infinite relief, turn presently from the scene of these -incidents and take his way toward his own quarters, with a belated -monition that it was now in order to greet his waiting family. - -There the news met him of the notable capture in his absence, for Mrs. -Annandale had learned the particulars from her niece and was herself -blissful enough to be translated. In fact, so beaming, so softened, -so benign was she, that Captain Howard, more gratified than he would -have cared to acknowledge, could not forbear a gibe at her vicarious -happiness. - -“One would think you were to be the bride, Claudia,” he said, laughing -in great good-humor. - -“With the handsome young husband, and Mervyn Hall, and the Mervyn -diamonds! But it’s none too good for my treasure--the brightest, the -best, the most beautiful and winsome creature that ever stepped!” She -put her handkerchief to her eyes, for those sardonic little orbs were -full of tears. - -“She is--she is indeed!” cried Captain Howard. He felt that no man -could be worthy of Arabella. - -“But now, _you_ must be careful--don’t speak as if it is absolutely -settled. You know dear Arabella is a bit freakish--” - -She would have said--“perverse like you,” but for the bliss that curbed -her thoughts. But indeed Captain Howard took the alarm on the instant. - -“Now, Claudia,” he said with earnest, remonstrating eyes, “you are not -persuading that child into this rich marriage against her inclinations?” - -Mrs. Annandale looked for a moment six feet high--so portentous was her -dignity as she drew herself up. “_I_” she said, in freezing accents, -“_persuade!_” with an infusion of contempt. “My good sir, _I_ knew -nothing whatever of his proposal of marriage, till Arabella saw fit to -confide in me!” - -“I beg pardon, I am sure--” began Captain Howard. - -“_I_ disregard her inclination--_I_ who have sought nothing but her -happiness since her mother’s death!” said Mrs. Annandale. - -“True, true, my sister. And I always gratefully remember this.” - -He crossed the room, sat down beside her, and took her hand. It was a -tiny wrinkled hand, soft and unsubstantial, suggestive of something -uncanny,--a mouse or a young chicken, that does not lend itself to -hearty pressure. Captain Howard’s gingerly touch was more as if he felt -her pulse than clasped her hand. - -She permitted herself to be reconciled, so benign was her triumph. - -“They settled it between them. _I_ knew nothing of it. It was during -the storm. I was not in here. I went to my room for my sal volatile -partly, and partly because I could not, without screaming, see the -lightning capering about like a streak of hell turned loose on earth, -and when I had done with my vocalizes,”--she could afford to laugh at -herself on a fair day like this--“and came back, lo! here were Corydon -and Phyllis, smiling at each other, as sentimental as you please!” - -Captain Howard laughed with responsive satisfaction. It was a relief -to him to know that his beautiful daughter would be so safely settled -in the world--that her path would be smoothed by all that wealth and -station could give. He had known Mervyn all the young man’s life, and -his father and grandfather before him, and liked him well. He thought -him safe, steady, conservative, of good parts, and a capable officer. -Doubtless, however, he would sell out of the army when he should come -into the title and estate, and Captain Howard was not sorry for this, -despite his own military predilections. He was glad that Arabella’s lot -should be cast in the pleasant paths of English country life, instead -of following the British drumbeat around the world. He was sensible, -too, of a great pleasure in the fact that her beauty, her cleverness, -her careful education,--for learning was the fad of the day among women -of fashion, and Miss Howard added to considerable solid acquirements -musical and linguistic accomplishments of no mean order,--would all be -conspicuously placed in a setting worthy of their value and calculated -to enhance their lustre. She would embellish the station as no Lady -Mervyn heretofore had ever graced it. As he sat gazing, half-smiling, -into the fire, he could hear echoes from the future--“The beautiful -and gifted Lady Mervyn,” she would be called; “the clever Lady -Mervyn,”--“the fascinating and accomplished Lady Mervyn!” Life had been -good to her; the most extravagant wishes would be fulfilled--wealth and -station, love and beauty, grace and goodness would all be hers. The -father’s heart swelled with gratification and paternal pride. - -“How is she freakish?” he asked, suddenly. - -“She will not let it be spoken of as if it were absolutely settled. She -says she does not know him well enough. She has every opportunity to -make his acquaintance. He is at her feet all the day long.” - -Only when his daughter herself spoke to him was Captain Howard’s -satisfaction dashed. He was a blunt, straightforward man, and he did -not comprehend subtleties. He only felt them. - -“Did Mr. Raymond tell you about the fire?” she asked, apropos of -nothing. - -When he replied that he had learned of the incident only after he had -returned to the fort, she looked at him searchingly, silently, her -hazel eyes grave and pondering as she sat beside him on the settle, -her hand in his. Then she edged closer and began to pull and plait the -bullion fringes of his nearest epaulet, the clumsy decoration of those -days, while the white lids and long dark lashes drooped half over her -pensive eyes, and a slight flush rose in her cheek. - -“Did he really tell you nothing of Mr. Mervyn’s dispositions during the -fire?” - -“He did not mention Mervyn’s name,” Captain Howard answered, and -he was thinking this silence significant--it intimated a sort of -professional jealousy on Raymond’s part, which was certainly an -absurd sentiment to be entertained by an ensign toward the efficiency -of a captain-lieutenant--for the management of the fire and the -interdependent details had been admirable in every way. It gave -Captain Howard special pleasure to commend this management, for he -thought that surely if she cared for Mervyn such commendation would -please her. Certainly, as he doubtless would leave the army soon, it -mattered little now, whether or not he were a capable officer, but the -commandant had enough feeling for his profession as the art of war -to greatly value efficiency in the abstract, and he had a martinet’s -stern conviction that whatever a man undertakes to do should be a manly -devoir, strictly rendered. - -“Mervyn’s management of the fire and the demonstration of the Indians -was most excellent,” he said. “It was an exceedingly difficult and -nettling incident. I really should not have been surprised if a band -of Cherokees had forced their way into the parade while practically -the whole force was busy fighting the fire, and even if the Indians -had been actuated by mere curiosity in coming in, serious consequences -might have ensued, the place being at their mercy. He showed excellent -conduct--excellent.” - -She stared at him with wide eyes, then her face fell unaccountably. - -“And Mr. Raymond said nothing,” she faltered. - -He did not understand it at the time, and afterward he pondered on the -matter in futile irritation. When the formal reports had been presented -and Mervyn had stated that in the clamors of the storm he had heard -naught of the uproar in the fort, and the officer of the day had met -the emergency as best he could, Captain Howard, deeply mortified and -greatly disillusioned, cared less for the facts than that they had been -so long withheld. It was the business of the officers on duty to deal -with the difficulties as they were presented. But he asked Mervyn -why he had not mentioned the true state of the case in the presence -of Jerrold and Innis, when the matter was being canvassed, since they -must have perceived the misunderstanding under which the commandant was -permitted to labor, and would draw most unflattering conclusions. “You -give those fellows a hank over you,” he said, curtly. - -He realized this even more definitely afterward when he made his -acknowledgments to Jerrold, as he felt bound to do. - -“I was under the impression that Captain Mervyn had the conduct of -the emergency,” he said, in much embarrassment. “You managed it with -excellent discretion.” - -“The men responded with so much good will and alacrity, sir,” replied -Jerrold, waiving the commendation with an appropriate grace. “We needed -hearts and hands rather than a head. They deserve all the credit, for -they worked with superhuman energy. And I want to ask you, sir, now -that the subject is broached, for some little indulgence for those who -were burned in their exertions. No one is much hurt, but I thought some -little extra, to show appreciation--” - -“By all means--by all means,” said the commandant, glad to be quit of -the subject. - -Captain Howard perceived now that it certainly was not jealousy of -Mervyn’s exploits which had kept his name from Raymond’s lips, and -he returned unavailingly to his daughter’s strict questions as to -the young ensign’s silence on the subject, and her look of pondering -perturbation at his answer. He wondered, too, why Raymond should have -maintained this silence on a theme calculated to be of most peculiar -relish to him, considering the acrimonious disposition which Mervyn -had shown in reporting so trifling an omission in the guard report, -necessitating a reprimand, while Mervyn’s own lapse, without being his -fault in any way, was of a semi-ludicrous savor, which was not in the -least diminished by his own self-conscious efforts to ignore it. He -sent a glance of covert speculation now and again toward Raymond in the -days that ensued as the young man came and went in the routine duties -of garrison life, but saw him no more in his own parlor, and several -times Arabella openly asked what had become of Ensign Raymond. - -Despite the fact that she had imperiously declared she would let -nothing be considered settled, Mervyn had contrived to give the -impression to the officers of the garrison that his suit had won -acceptance with Miss Howard. Thus it came about that when these two -walked on the ramparts together on a fair afternoon, or when lights -began to glimmer from the parlor windows in the purple dusk, there was -a realization in the mess-room that the welcome might be scant even for -well-meaning intruders, so in those precincts the cards were cut for -Loo, and the punch was brewed, and the evening spent much as before -there was ever a lovely lady and a lute’s sweet vibrations to gladden -the air at Fort Prince George. - -Mrs. Annandale artfully fired the girl’s pride. Her lover with a -mingled delicacy and fervor expended his whole heart in homage. With a -dutiful throb of pleasure she marked the tender content in her father’s -face, and these quiet days in the citadel of the old frontier fort -ought to have been the happiest of her life--but yet--she wondered at -Raymond’s silence! It was too signal a disaster in the estimation of a -military man--that a garrison should fight for their lives and shelter -while their commander, for whatever cause, was perdu--for the ensign -to have forgotten to mention it. Was he so magnanimous? Her eyes dwelt -on the fire wistfully. This was not a grace that Mervyn fostered. Why -did Raymond come no more? Sometimes she looked out of the window on the -parade to mark when he passed. Once in a flutter and a flurry, when she -would not take time to think, she threw a fur wrap about her, drawn -half over her head, and stole out with Norah, wrapped in a blanket -shawl, and stood in a corner of the bastion beside the ramp that -ascended to the barbette, and watched him as he put the troops through -the manual exercise on the parade. He noticed neither of them. He was -absorbed in his work--they might both have been the laundry-maids. -Arabella was afraid of her aunt’s keen questions that night in Mrs. -Annandale’s bedroom when Norah broke forth with her gossip of the -garrison and her comments on the drill. - -“Oh, faix, mem, an’ it would gladden the heart av yez ter see how -nimble the men do sthep when the drum rowls out so grand! I wonder yez -don’t come wid me an’ our young leddy to look at them, sure!” - -“It will do _you_ no good to look at the men, and for me to look at -them will do _them_ no good. And a sure way to make them step nimble is -to set a mob of red-skins after them--push up that stool, girl. Art you -going to set my silk stocking on the rough stone?” - -“An’ shure it’s that hot,” declared the plump, good-natured Norah, -trying its temperature with her hand, “it might bur-rn the wee, dilikit -fut av yez, mem.” - -She adjusted the stool and recommenced. - -“Shure, mem, I doesn’t belave thim gossoons would run fur red-skins at -their heels--the lave of ’em are Oirish!” - -“And they haven’t got sense enough to run,” commented the mistress. -“What d’ye peel my hose that way for, you vixen--you’ll take the skin -as well as the stocking!” - -“An’ they does the goose-sthep mos’ beautiful, mem, an’ mark time -illigint. But that was for punishment,--caught in Keowee Town, gambling -wid the Injuns. Larry O’Grady an’ a shquad war kep at ut, mem, for -hours by Ensign Raymond’s ordhers, Pat Gilligan tould me, till they wuz -fit to shed tears.” - -“Shed tears--the hardened wretches!” said Mrs. Annandale, interested -nevertheless, _faute de mieux_, in the simple annals of the garrison. -For the days were monotonous, and even Arabella, who one might deem -had much to think of, were it only to join George Mervyn in planning -the alterations at Mervyn Hall and the details of her future reign, -lingered to listen beside her aunt’s fire, lounging in a great chair, -dressed in faint blue, and slipping languidly from one hand to the -other her necklace of pearls, her beautiful eyes a little distrait, a -little sad, it might seem, fixed on the glowing coals. - -“Shure, mem, weepin’ is all the fashion in the garrison now. Since -Ensign Raymond shed tears in public the tale of it tickles the men so -that if a finger be p’inted at one of ’em a whole shquad av ’em ’ll -bust out sobbin’ an’ wipin’ their eyes,--but Sergeant Kelly says if -they don’t quit ut, be jabbers, he’s give ’em something to cry fur.” - -“You insolent wretch!” squealed Mrs. Annandale, “how dare you say ‘be -jabbers’ in my presence?” - -“Shure, mem, ’twuz Sergeant Kelly shpakin’--not me,” said Norah, well -frightened. - -“Sergeant Kelly ’shpakin’ here in my room, you limb!” - -But Mrs. Annandale could not divert the inquiry--she would fain expunge -the very name of Raymond from the rolls. - -“How did Ensign Raymond happen to shed tears?” demanded Arabella, -stiffly. - -“Shure, Miss Arabella, the sojer bhoys does say that whin the ould -jontleman preacher-man wouldn’t lave the Injuns,--an’ it’s a quare -taste in folks he have got, to be sure,--an’ the captain, with -the soft heart av him, cudn’t abide to lave him there, this young -ensign,--though if he didn’t hould his head so high, an’ look loike he -thought he was a lord or a juke, he’d be a most enticin’-faced young -man,--he was ordered to pershuade the missionary to come. An’ he just -shwooped down on the riverend man of God and bodily kidnapped him. I am -acquainted with the men that he ordhered to carry the ould jontleman to -the boat.” - -“I think you are acquainted with the whole garrison,” snapped Mrs. -Annandale. - -“Shure, there’s but foive other white women in the place, an’ they -are mostly old and married, an’ though I’m not called of a good favor -at home I’ll pass muster on the frontier,” and Norah simpered, and -actually tossed her head. - -Mrs. Annandale would have preferred dealing with this insubordinate -levity, and vanity, and disrespect on the spot to returning to the -subject of Raymond, but the question had been Arabella’s, and the maid -did not wait for its repetition. - -“An’ when they had got the cr-razy ould loon in the boat--savin’ his -honor’s riverence, but to want to stay wid thim Injuns!--he shpake up -pitiful an’ said he was ould, an’ feeble, an’ poor--or they wouldn’t -have dared to thrate him so! An’ Ensign Raymond axed his forgiveness, -an’ whin he giv it, Ensign Raymond drapped down on one knee, an’ laid -his head on the ould man’s ar-rm, an’ bust into tears! Think o’ that, -mem! The men all call him now--Ensign Babby!” - -Norah lifted a fresh, smiling, plump face and Mrs. Annandale sent up a -keen, high cackle of derision. Then she stole a covert glance at her -niece. Arabella, too, was smiling as she gazed into the fire--a soft -radiance had transfigured her face. Her beautiful eyes were large, -gentle, wistful, and--since emotion was the fashion of the hour--they -were full of limpid tears, so pure, so clear, that they did not -obstruct the smile that shone through them. - -Mrs. Annandale was not sentimental herself, but she was familiar with -sentiment in others, and its proclivities for the destruction of -peace. Aided by the fortuitous circumstances of the man’s absence and -Mervyn’s monopoly of Arabella’s society, she had been as thoughtful, -as far-sighted, as cautious as if she had custody of the treasure of -a kingdom, but she determined that she would be more on her guard -hereafter, and never let the mention of the man’s name intrude into -the conversation. She fell into a rage over her disrobing on slight -provocation, and hounded and vilified Norah to her pallet with such -rancor that the girl, who had been in high spirits, and felt that she -had contributed much this evening to the entertainment of her employer, -followed the lachrymose tendencies of the mode, and softly sobbed -herself to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - - -The next day only it was that, George Mervyn being on duty as officer -of the day, Arabella felt a dreary sort of freedom in being alone. -A realization that this lassitude, yet sense of relief, was no good -augury for her future oppressed her. She said to herself that doubtless -when she should be married to him she would soon have less of his -society. She knew few marriages in which the devotion was so constant -as to grow wearisome; she thought it was because of the intensity of -his affection that she felt it a drag. She declared with a sigh that -she liked him--she liked him well. She did not realize how much her -pride had predisposed her to entertain his protestations, her aunt’s -artful goadings, her own ambitions, and her inherited disposition to -persist, to press forward against resistance, to conquer. - -She wanted to be out--away, far from the scenes with which he was -associated, apart from the thought of him. She wanted to regain her old -identity--to be herself--to feel free. - -She was in haste as she donned her bottle-green rokelay, for the -weather was keen, and she had a calash of the same dark tint, bordered -with brown fur that made a distinct line along the roll of her fair -hair above her brow. She went out alone upon the ramparts, walking very -swiftly, catching a glimpse through the embrasures, as she severally -passed the cannon, of the cold, steel-gray river, the leafless woods -bending before the blast, the ranges of mountains, all dull brown or -slate-gray save far, so far they hardly seemed real, mere pearl-tinted -illusions in the sombre north. She caught her breath in deep quick -respirations; she heard how rapidly her footsteps sounded on the -hard-beaten red clay. She said that it was exercise she had wanted, the -fresh air, to be out, the privilege every creature enjoyed--that bird, -an eagle, cleaving the air with his great wings; a party of Indians -on the opposite bank, going into the woods in a regular jog-trot, -single file; the very garrison dogs; a group of men at the great gate. -And suddenly she threw up her arm and hailed this group, for she had -recognized her father among them. - -She had recognized another--it was Raymond, and she wondered that she -had identified him at the distance. The sentinel first perceived her -gesture and called Captain Howard’s attention. The party paused, stared -at the approaching, flying figure on the ramparts, then as she reached -a ramp and rushed down the steep incline to the parade they came -forward at a fair pace to meet her. - -“Lord, papa!” she cried breathlessly, “where are you going? Let me -go with you, sir, wherever it is. Truly, sir, I am perishing for a -breath of change. I feel as if I have lived in Fort Prince George since -America was discovered. Let me go, sir!” - -She had him by the arm now, and he was looking down leniently at her. - -“You are a spoil-sport, Arabella. You cannot go where we are going, -child.” - -“Then go somewhere else,” she insisted. “Sure, sir, I’m not a prisoner -of war. Let me through that gate, or I shall die of Fort Prince George.” - -“We are going to speak to one of the chiefs of Keowee Town about an -important matter--feed for the pack animals; we must have feed, you -know, or we shall never get away from Fort Prince George.” - -“Across the river! Oh, bless us and save us, papa, I _must go_. I could -sit in the canoe while you bargain, or confer, or what not. You would -be near at hand and I should not be afraid.” - -“It is under the guns of the fort, sir,” suggested Raymond. - -“Oh, thank you, Mr. Raymond, for the word!” she cried. “Papa, I am -going! All for Keowee, follow me!” - -As she whisked through the gates the sentinel presented arms ostensibly -to the party of officers, but so promptly that it had the savor of -a special compliment to her as she passed in the lead. The frozen -ground was so hard beneath her flying feet, the wind struck so chill -on her cheek, the sparkle in her eyes was so bright, the timbre of -her clear, reedy, joyous tones was so youthful, so resonant, that she -seemed indeed like some liberated thing. Mervyn’s monotonous discourse -of himself, his views, his hopes, his experiences, recurred with a -sarcastic suggestion to Raymond’s mind, albeit he, himself, had entered -into these subjects with a fraternal warmth and interest in the days -of their devoted friendship, and he reflected that an affectionate -feeling for an egotist blunts the sharp point of the obtrusive pronoun. - -He was suffering a blended poignancy of pain and pleasure in this -unexpected meeting. He had already discovered the depth of his feeling -for the commandant’s daughter before the expedition to Tamotlee. -On his return he had heard the gossip as to the engagement, and -realized that his love was hopeless. It had taken a strong hold upon -him, and he needed all his courage to sustain the disappointment, -the disillusionment, for he had dreamed that he might have found -favor, the despair. He told himself sternly that he had been a fool -from the beginning. She looked higher, naturally, than an ensign of -foot, who had scarcely any resources but his commission,--the meagre -pay of a subaltern. The very idea, reasonably considered, was a -death-blow to any hope of speedy marriage. As the ensign was of good -birth his lowly estate seemed only to illustrate his unworthiness of -his distinguished lineage. All the remote ancestral splendors that -the Heralds’ College could show were of scant worldly utility to an -ensign of foot. Nevertheless, he relished the fact that Mervyn had -paid him the compliment to be bitterly jealous of him, and he saw in -Mrs. Annandale’s disingenuous little face that she feared him and his -attractions, whatever she might esteem these endowments, beyond measure. - -He had told himself that he ought to rejoice in the young lady’s good -fortune, that she should be so worthily placed; that if Mervyn’s -wealth and station could serve her interest this would demonstrate a -purpose in his creation, hitherto doubtful. He did not deny himself the -illogical grudging of this fair creature to Mervyn with an infinite -rancor. He had never seemed so unworthy of her as now, failing even in -fair words, just dues, which most men contrive to pay. Raymond had held -his peace, however, when Mervyn had been bitterly disparaged among the -little cluster of brother officers in the mess-hall, and kept away from -the commandant’s parlor, denying himself even the pleasure of a formal -call. It was not well that he should see her, for his own sake--the -mere recollection of the contour of her face, the pensive fall of her -eyelash, the clear lustre of her eyes, broke his heart, and shook his -nerve, and half-maddened his brain. He did not think that she might -miss him, might care for his coming. She loved Mervyn, or thought she -did, and he, himself, loved her so well as to hope that she might never -wear out that illusion. Now, however, that he was with her again, -through no volition of his own, mere chance, his heart plunged, his -cheek flushed, his poor, denied, famished love renewed its tremors, its -vague, vain hopes, its tumultuous delight in her mere presence. - -As they crossed the bridge, and passed the counterscarp, and took their -way toward the glacis, he hastened to offer his arm to support, after -the fashion of the day, the young creature, bounding on so lightly -ahead of them, for no woman of quality was esteemed stalwart enough to -dispense with man’s upholding strength. Reminded thus of etiquette -Miss Howard accepted the proffer, and leaning graciously upon him, she -somewhat slackened her pace as they crossed the glacis and turned down -the slope toward the river. - -The animation of the expedition seemed suddenly monopolized by Captain -Howard and his colleagues--the quarter-master and the fort-adjutant, -discussing loudly ways and means, the respective values of varieties -of forage, the possibility of caches of corn among the Indians, their -obvious relish of the commandant’s destitution when he most needed -feed for his pack-trains, and his march in the evacuation of the fort. -He had been told more than once how they wished they had now the vast -stores burned by the British commander, Colonel Grant, in his furious -forays through the Cherokee country two years previous--they would -bestow it on the Capteny without money and without price. - -Scarcely a word passed between the young people. Arabella, to her -amazement, felt her hand so tremble on Raymond’s arm that she was -constrained to furnish an explanation by a shiver and an exclamation -on the chill of the day. She could not understand her own agitation. -She felt the silence to be awkward, conscious, yet she dared not -speak, lest her voice might falter. He, the dullard, had no divination -of her state of mind. It never occurred to him to doubt the truth of -the reported engagement. The smug satisfaction which the face of the -captain-lieutenant now wore, despite the blight which his military -laurels had suffered, was a sufficient confirmation of the truth -of the rumor he had set afloat. It never occurred to Raymond that -undue persuasion had been exerted upon her--he never dreamed that -Mrs. Annandale’s meagre little personality stood for a strategist of -a subtlety never before seen in the Cherokee country, that she was -capable of making the young lady believe herself in love with George -Mervyn, and her father accept the fact on his sister’s statement. -Raymond could but mark the flushed, conscious look now on Arabella’s -face, the sudden timidity in her downcast eyes, the tremor of her -daintily-gloved fingers on his arm. A sudden gust blew a perfumed tress -of her waving golden hair over the brown fur and the dark green cloth -of her calash, whence it escaped, and thence across his cheek for a -moment. Its glitter seemed to blind him. He caught his breath at its -touch. But the next moment they had reached the rocky declivity to the -river-bank, and he was all assiduity in finding a practicable path -amongst the intricacies of ledges and boulders, over which she could -have bounded with the sure-footed lightness of a gazelle. - -The long stretches of the still, gray river, flecked with white -foam, wherever an unseen rock lay submerged beneath its full floods, -reflected a sky of like dreary tone. One could see movement above, as -the fleecy gray folds, that seemed to overlay a denser medium of darker -shade, shifted and overlapped, thickened and receded noiselessly, a -ceaseless vibrating current, not unrelated to the joyless, mechanical -rippling of the waters. The leafless trees on the banks looked down at -their stark reflections in the stream that intensified the riparian -glooms--here and there a grim gray promontory of solid rock broke the -monotony with an incident not less grave. Mists hung in the air above -the conical roofs of the Indian town on the opposite bank, not easily -distinguished from the smoke issuing from the smoke-holes, for chimneys -they had none. No sound came across the water; the town might have -been asleep, deserted, dead. As the party reached the bank a gust came -driving through the open avenue of the river, damp with the propinquity -of the body of water, shrill with the compression of the air between -the wooded banks, and so strong that it almost swept Arabella from her -feet, and she clung to Raymond for support. Her father renewed his -protests against her venturing forth upon the water--it might rain, if -indeed it were not too cold for this,--and urged her to return to the -fort, and await a fair day for an excursion on the river. - -In reply she pertinently reminded him that this was no time to deny her -whims, when she had come out all the way from England to visit him. -Indeed, she did not wait for a denial. She stepped instantly into the -boat as soon as the soldiers who were to row had taken their oars and -brought it alongside, and as she seated herself in the stern, Captain -Howard could only console his fears for her safety by wrapping her -snugly in a great fur mantle and listening to her feats of prowess as -she was good enough to detail them. - -Apparently she had suddenly found all her facility in words, mute as -she had been during the walk, and it seemed to Raymond, as he wistfully -eyed her from the opposite seat, that she had said nothing then because -she had nothing to say to him. - -“Sure, papa, I’m neither sugar nor salt. I shan’t melt, except into -tears for your cruelties. I am not such a dainty, flimsy piece of -dimity as all that comes to. Why, when we crossed the sea every soul -on board was sick--except _me_ and the men that worked the ship. And -there was wind, no capful like this, but blowing great guns--and water! -the waves went all over us--the water came into the cabin. Aunt Claudia -said she hoped we would sink; she would give all she possessed to be -still one moment on the bottom of the ocean. And while she was helpless -I staid on deck and advised the ship’s captain. He said he had _heard_ -of mermaids, but I was the first he had ever _seen_! Oh, he was very -gallant, was the sea-captain, and made me a fine lot of compliments. -And did I expect to be cooped up in Fort Prince George, as if it were -in blockade!” - -Captain Howard rather winced at the word, and thought ruefully of the -lack of corn, and the coming of his marching orders. - -“I expected to ride, papa. I thought you might lend me a mount some -day--” - -“Permit me to offer you a horse of mine that might carry a lady fairly -well--” Raymond began, for among his few possessions he owned several -choice animals which he had bought very young from the Indians. The -Cherokees boasted at that day some exceedingly fine horses, supposed -to be descendants of the Spanish barbs of De Soto’s expedition through -that region. Raymond was an excellent judge and had selected young -creatures at a low valuation at one of the sales when the Indians had -driven down a herd to barter with the ranchmen of the pastoral country -further to the south. His cheek flushed, his eye flashed with a sudden -accession of joyful anticipation--but Captain Howard shook his head. -He was not so secure in the peace of the frontier as he had earlier -been. Certain incidents of the expedition to Little Tamotlee were not -reassuring. He would hardly have trusted his daughter out for a canter -along the smooth reaches of the “trading-path,” as the road was called -that passed Fort Prince George to the upper country, or the trail the -soldiers made in the forest for fuel supplies, even could he have -detailed half the garrison as her escort. Only the guns of Fort Prince -George he now considered adequate protection--not because of their -special efficiency, but solely because of the terrors of artillery -which the Indians felt, and could never overcome. - -“Why, papa--when I have ridden cross-country to hounds, and twice in -Scotland I was in at the death! Papa--_why, papa_! are you afraid -I would fall off the pony?” she demanded, with such a glance of -deprecation and mortified pride that it was hard for her father not to -express the true reason for his withheld consent. But as commandant -of the garrison he could not acquaint the two soldiers who rowed the -boat, and through them the rest of the force, with his fears for the -permanence of the peace on the frontier, and his doubts as to their -speedy departure. Now that the period of their exile had been placed, -and that they were in sight of home, as it were, they could hardly wait -a day longer, and trained and tried and true as they were, he might -well have feared a mutiny, had an inopportune suggestion of delay or -doubt grown rife amongst them. He hesitated and cleared his throat, -and seemed about to speak, then turned and glanced over his shoulder -at Keowee Town, still lying apparently asleep. If the approach of the -boat had been noted, the municipality gave no sign, whether from some -queer savage reason, or disfavor to the visitors, or simply a freak of -affectation, he did not care to think. He was acutely conscious of the -face dearest to him in the world, downcast, deprecating, and flushed, -appealing to him when he could not speak. - -“Oh, I know you are a monstrous fine horsewoman--” he began -extravagantly, “but there is no road.” - -“And now I know you are laughing at me, papa,” she said, with dignity, -“and I thought you were proud of my riding so well,”--with a little -plangent inflection of reproach. “But I left the whole field behind in -Scotland--I _was_ in at the death, twice--I _can_ ride”--with stalwart -self-assertion. “And I can shoot--I won the silver arrow at the last -archery meet at home!” - -“There can surely be no objection to archery, sir,” Raymond glanced at -the captain, aware in some sort of the nature of his difficulty, and -seeking to smooth his way. - -“No--no--” said Captain Howard, heartily,--then with a sudden -doubt--“except a bow and arrows of a proper size; but I can have these -made for you at once--if the Indians are not too lazy, or too sullen, -or too disaffected to make them. I will see if I can order a proper -weapon at Keowee.” - -“I have the very thing,” exclaimed Raymond, delightedly, “if Miss -Howard will do me the honor to accept it. When we were at Tuckaleechee -last year, Captain,” he said, turning to the commandant, “I secured, -for a curiosity, a bow and quiver of arrows which had been made for the -Indian king’s nephew, who had died before they were finished. Otherwise -they would have been buried with him, according to Cherokee etiquette. -They are as fine as the Indians can make them, for he was the heir to -the throne, following the female line. You know, Miss Howard, here -among the Cherokee chiefs the nephew has the right of succession, not -the son. This boy was twelve or fourteen years old, and the weapons are -of corresponding weight.” - -“Just the thing,” said Captain Howard, cordially,--then with an -afterthought,--“but this deprives you of a handsome curiosity, -ornamented for royalty. You may _borrow_ it, Arabella.” - -“Oh, but I’d love to _own_ it,” cried Miss Howard, joyously, with a -charming frankness that made the color deepen in Raymond’s cheek. “I’ll -carry it home and shoot with it at the next archery meet. I hope it is -very barbaric and splendid in its decorations, Mr. Raymond.” - -“I think it will not disappoint you,” replied Raymond, in a glow of -enthusiasm, for it was a choice bit of aboriginal art; the Indians -often spent years of labor on the ornamentation of a single weapon. “It -carries all the gewgaws that it can without impairing the elasticity of -the wood, but the quiver is more gorgeous; the arrows are winged with -flamingo feathers, and tipped with crystal quartz.” - -“Oh,” began Arabella-- - -But her father’s admonitions broke in upon her delight. “Those arrows -are deadly,” he exclaimed, “as hard as steel. And you must be careful -how you place your target; you might shoot some animal, or a soldier; -you must be careful.” - -“What a forlorn fate for a soldier--to die by a lady’s hand!” she -exclaimed. - -“Ladies usually shoot by proxy,” Raymond said, with a conscious laugh, -“and first and last they have done woful execution among soldiers.” - -“They never shoot by proxy at our club,” declared Arabella, densely. - -“That’s mighty good of them,” said her father, laughing a little, as he -turned to look at the shore. He ordered the oarsmen to pull in, despite -the fact that no signs of life were yet visible about the town. - -When, however, the keel grazed the gravelly bank and Captain Howard and -his quarter-master and fort-adjutant stepped on shore, there appeared -as suddenly as if he had risen from the ground the “second man” of -Keowee Town, attended by three or four of inferior rank, a trifle -sullen, very silent, and when he spoke at last, after he had led the -way to the municipal booth, or cabin, he was full of ungracious excuses -for the non-appearance of the chief to greet the English Capteny. -He had thought the boat held only the quarter-master, the fort’s -“second man”--“Confound his impudence!” interpolated that officer, -an observation which the discreet interpreter did not see fit to -repeat,--the fort’s “second man,” come to beg for corn. The British, he -continued, were pleased to call the Indians beggars, but no mendicant -that he had ever heard whine could whine as the fort’s “second man” -whined when he begged for corn. - -It was well for the fort’s “second man” that he was already seated -on a buffalo rug on the ground, his legs doubled up, tailor-wise, in -front of him, or he might have fallen to the earth in his sputtering -indignation. His rubicund, round face grew scarlet. Portly as he was -already he seemed puffed up with rage, and his features visibly swelled -as he retorted.--Had he not offered the Frog to pay the town in golden -guineas for the corn--he had not begged; he had asked to purchase. - -Walasi, the Frog, shook his head. Of what good were English guineas -to people who had no corn. Corn was more precious than gold--could he -plant those golden guineas of the fort’s “second man,” and make corn? -Could horses eat guineas? - -“No,” said the fort’s “second man,” “but asses could, and did.” - -Whereupon the Keowee “second man” said the fort’s “second man” spake in -riddles, and relapsed into silence. - -Thus brought to a dead-lock the quarter-master looked appealingly at -the commandant, who, albeit sensible of the discourtesy offered him -by the non-appearance of the chief, and his derogation of dignity in -conferring with a “second man,” came to his subordinate’s relief. - -The British officer did not wish to inconvenience the town of Keowee -in any manner, he said, and regretted much that their visits were not -welcome. Whereupon the Frog showed visible uneasiness, for with the -Cherokees hospitality was the very first and foremost virtue, and for -it to be impugned was a reflection upon the town. He hastened to say -volubly that the beloved Capteny was much mistaken; the chief’s heart -was wrung not to take him by his noble hand. But they had feared--they -much deprecated that the British Capteny had come, too, to _beg_--to -beg for corn; and it would wrench the very soul of the chief of Keowee -to refuse him aught. - -“The chief is fortunate to be so well furnished with gold as to throw -it away,” said Captain Howard. - -That the Frog had learned somewhat in his intercourse with the -commercial French who, with covert strategy, had plied a brisk trade -with the Indians despite their treaty with the British, was evidenced -in the shrug with which he declared he could not say. The Indian -wanted little--he wanted his own corn--that was all. It belonged to -him--he asked for no man’s gold. - -Captain Howard was at a loss. The military resource of the seizing -of supplies was impracticable since the treaty of peace. The British -government owned merely the ground on which Fort Loudon and Fort -Prince George stood, and a right of way to those works. Moreover, -with his small force the measure was impossible. Therefore it was -indeed necessary to beg for corn at six--nay, ten prices, in English -gold. He sat for a few moments, gazing absently at the prospect, the -austere wintry mountains under the gray sky, the illimitable, leafless -wilderness, the shining line of the river that caught and focussed such -chill light as the day vouchsafed, the bastions and flying flag of Fort -Prince George on the opposite bank, and close in to the hither side -the brilliant fleck of color that the scarlet coats of the oarsmen and -Ensign Raymond gave to the scene, as sombre, otherwise, as a sketch in -sepia. He noted that the rowers had thrust out from the shore five or -six oars’ length, perhaps, and that they now and again gently dipped -their oars to keep the craft at a fixed distance and obviate drifting -with the current. The people of Keowee Town were not altogether proof -against curiosity. From the vantage ground of the second men’s cabin -Captain Howard could see stealthy figures, chiefly of women and -children, peering out from doors or skulking behind bushes, all eyes -directed toward the shallop rocking in a steely gleam of light aslant -upon a steely ripple of water, the only vivid chromatic tone in the -neutral tinted scene. - -There is a certain temperament which is incapable of sustaining -success. It may cope with difficulty or it may endure disaster. But a -degree of prosperity destroys its values, annuls good judgment, and -distorts the perspective of all the world in the range of vision. The -British Captain was at his wits’ end. He had no corn, and if none -were to be bought he could get no corn. Few people have shared the -Frog’s pleasure of seeing their victorious enemies the victims of so -insoluble a problem. The declination of the chief of Keowee to receive -the magnate from across the river was in itself a blow to pride, an -insult, a flout, as contemptuous as might be devised. But as a matter -of policy it was an error. If it had been a question of crops, a démêlé -with a neighboring town, a matter of boundary, the selection of timbers -for building purposes, no man could have acted with finer judgment -than Walasi, the Frog. But he was a Cherokee and he hated the British -Capteny with rancor. He must twist the knife in the wound, already -gaping wide with anguish for the famishing stock. He assumed an air -of reproach, and knowing even as he spoke that he transcended politic -monitions, he stipulated that it was but the accident of the Capteny’s -absence at Tamotlee which had precipitated disaster. When the Indians -at Keowee had beheld the flames of the granary they had rushed to the -assistance of their neighbors, the soldiers. Many hands do much work. -But the great gates were closed against them, and when the Cherokees -approached, he declared, the cannon were fired upon them from the fort, -and many great balls rolled along, and popped hissing hot into the -river. And it was only on account of the defective aim of the garrison -that any were now left alive. And their hearts had become very poor -because of their despised friendship. But cannon there were in the -Cherokee nation!--and, he boasted, some day the garrison of Fort Prince -George would hear, and shake with fear to hear, the loud whooping from -out their throats, and the deep rumble of their howls; and would see, -and be dazzled with terror to see, the fire come whizzing out of their -muzzles with red-hot balls--but--but-- - -Walasi, the Frog, suddenly became aware that it was a very intent -and steadfast gaze in the commandant’s eyes, as he sat and listened, -spell-bound. And he, Walasi, who dealt only with crops, and houses, -and town politics, who had never been either warrior or councillor, -was conscious that he had gone too far in a position of trust beyond -his deserts, and above his condition. The insult to Captain Howard in -setting a second man to confer with him had developed a double-edged -sharpness. - -“But--but,” the Frog continued, “the good Capteny whom all loved would -not be among them. None wished to harm the beloved Capteny.” - -He paused again, staring in anxiety, for the intent look on the good -Capteny’s face had vanished. He was shaking his head in melancholy -negation. - -“No, my good Walasi, no one here loves the Capteny. I am gone to visit -my friend, the chief of Tamotlee, and my mad young men burn my granary -and fool with my cannon--you have cannon, you say? But no,--I cannot -stop to talk of cannon! I think of corn--corn--corn! And for gold you -will let me have no corn. And the chief of Keowee will not see me!” - -The eye-lashes of Walasi, the Frog, rose and fell so fast that he -seemed blinking for some moments. He had said too much, but to -obliterate the recollection in the British Capteny’s mind it might be -well to interest him anew in corn--to keep him anxious and returning; -he would not then have time or inclination to recur to the question of -cannon--the unwary Frog felt that he had indeed said too much--but he -was only a “second man,” and should not be set to deal with a capteny -of the British. - -The policy of sharing their corn had been doubted by the head-men. But -he would take the responsibility to send--say a laden pettiaugre. - -“Damme, Walasi! _one_ pettiaugre!” cried Captain Howard, reproachfully. - -“For to-day--another time, perhaps. But the heart of Keowee is very -poor to deny the British Capteny, whom it loves like a brother, _one_ -pettiaugre.” - -There was a great telling out and chinking of gold in the second man’s -sanctum, and presently a dozen stalwart tribesmen were carrying the -corn in large baskets to the pettiaugre, coming and going in endless -procession in this slow method of loading. Captain Howard, resolutely -mustering his patience, watched the last bushel aboard that the -pettiaugre would hold--the craft, indeed, was settling in the water -when he signed to the Indian boatmen to pole it across. Then he took -a ceremonious, almost affectionate leave of Walasi, and walked down -to the water’s edge with so absorbed and thoughtful a mien that he -hardly looked up when his daughter called out to him from the canoe, -which was rapidly rowing in to take him aboard; as he stepped over the -gunwale and caught her eye he had a dazed look as if just awakened -from a revery, or some deep and careful calculation, and he said, -bluntly,--“Bless my soul, child, I had forgotten you were here!” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - - -Those with whom life deals liberally are often less grateful than -exacting. Any failure of the largess of fate is like withheld deserts -or a wanton injury. It is as if they had an inalienable right to expect -better usage. It never seems to occur to these favorites of fortune -that others have as fair a claim upon the munificence of circumstance, -and that but for a cloaked mystery of dispensation they would share -equally with their fellows. Thus a disconcerting chance or a temporary -obstacle rouses no disposition to measure strength with adversity, -or to cope with untoward combinations, but an angry amazement, -an indignant displeasure, a sense of trespass upon one’s lawful -domain of success and happiness that result in blundering egotistic -self-assertion, which often fails in the clearance of the obstruction -to the paths of bland and self-satisfied progress. - -Mervyn, chancing to glance down from the block-house tower whither -he had repaired shortly before sunset on his rounds, to see that the -sentinels were properly posted and that they had the countersign -correctly, was not only dismayed but affronted to perceive walking -briskly up the slope from the river-bank Captain Howard, the -quarter-master, the fort-adjutant, and following them at a leisurely -pace Ensign Raymond, with Miss Howard on his arm. They were conversing -earnestly; her face was full of interest as he spoke. Now and then -she glanced up at him, as if with a question; the glow of the west -rested in a transfiguring halo about her head, her golden hair showing -beneath the dark green calash. In the setting of the bleak, cold day -her face was as illumined as a saint’s. A band of dull red was about -the horizon above the sombre wooded mountains, promising fairer skies -for the morrow, and now and then, through some translucence of the -clouds a chill white sheen spread over the landscape less like sunlight -than moonbeams. Still gazing at the two Mervyn marked that Arabella -noted this aspect, and called her companion’s attention to the abnormal -quality of its glister. - -“That is like ‘the sleeping sun,’” she said. “How quaint is that idea -of the Indians--how poetic, that the moon is but the sun asleep!” - -“This, though, is ‘the sun awake in the day.’ _Nu-da-ige-hi!_” he -explained. - -She repeated the phrase after him. “And ‘the sleeping sun’?” - -“_Nu-da-su-na-ye-hi_,” he replied. - -She paused to repeat both phrases anew, smiling like a docile child, -learning a lesson. - -At the distance, of course, Mervyn could not hear the words, but the -responsive smiles, the obvious mutual interest, the graceful attitudes -of the two as she once more took Raymond’s arm and they walked slowly -on toward the gate--each phase of the scene was charged with a signal -irritation to his pride, his nerves, his intense self-consciousness. -He was angry with her; why should she seek solace for his absence in -jaunting abroad? He was angry with her father for granting her this -opportunity. He could not imagine why her aunt had not been more -insistent in duty--he would have thought it well that she should be -penned up in the commandant’s parlor sewing her sampler until such time -as it was practicable for him to rejoice the dulness by his endless -talk of himself--which, indeed, those who loved him would find no -burden. He was angry more than all and beyond expression with Raymond, -who profited by his enforced absence, and whom he had feared from the -beginning as a rival. He knew well the character of the comments of -the mess upon his course in pushing the immaterial omission in the -matter of the guard report to an extreme limit, and his own reticence -afterward concerning his absence from the scene of the fire till it -was no longer possible to conceal the circumstance. Captain Howard, -himself, had opened his stubborn, reluctant eyes to the repute among -his brother officers that this had inflicted upon him. He feared -Raymond would acquaint Arabella with their estimate of his part in the -incident. He was wild when he thought of the duration of his tour of -duty. Till to-morrow he was caught fast, laid by the heels, held to -all the observances of the regulations as strictly as if the little -frontier mud fort were a fortress of value, garrisoned by thousands -of troops. He knew, nevertheless, the special utility of routine -here, where the garrison was so weak,--scant a hundred men. The -enemy--conquered, indeed, but only by the extraneous aid of a special -expeditionary force--was still strong and rancorous, able to throw two -thousand warriors against the ramparts in a few hours, but he argued it -was farcical to detail the officers to this frequent recurrent duty, -albeit appropriate to their rank, when sergeants, corporals, even -intelligent privates might be trusted in their stead. - -He had been a good soldier, and ordinarily his pulse would have -quickened to the partial solution of the feed problem, evidenced -shortly by the issuance of the quarter-master’s contingent to the -unloading of the pettiaugre at the river-bank. The stable men were -riding down the horses, harnessed to slides in default of wagons, to -bring in the provender; some of them carried great baskets like those -of the Indians, but disposed upon the beasts pannier-wise. The loud, -gay voices made the dull still dusk ring again. Raymond avoided the -great gate whence now and then a horseman, thus cumbrously accoutred, -issued as suddenly as if flung from a catapult and went clattering -boisterously down to the river-bank. An abrupt encounter under the arch -with these plunging wights might not discommode Captain Howard and the -quarter-master, but with his fair charge Raymond sought the quieter -precincts of the sally-port. There he was detained for the lack of the -countersign, and while the sentinel called the corporal the two young -people stood, apparently quite content, still softly talking, now and -then a rising inflection of their suave tones coming to Mervyn’s -ear as he lingered in the block-house tower and watched them. They -were taking their way presently across the parade to the commandant’s -quarters, and as Mervyn’s eyes followed them thither, he perceived -the face of Mrs. Annandale at the window. She looked as Mervyn felt, -and as he noted it he winced from the idea that perhaps the chaperon -cared for him only for his worldly advantages. He had no mind to be -married for these values, he said to himself, indignantly. Then he had -a candid monition that he was not in great danger of being married at -all--whatever Mrs. Annandale’s convictions might be, the young lady had -stipulated that nothing was to be considered settled till she knew her -own mind--she was yet, she had protested, so little acquainted with -him. He had one natural humble impulse, like a lover, to hope that -she might never know him better to like him less. The thought cleared -the atmosphere of storm. Mrs. Annandale naturally preferred him--why -should she not?--and if she had wished to stimulate his devotion she -would have set up Raymond, and encouraged him as a rival. He could not -imagine that she considered Raymond too formidable for a fictitious -lover. A fascinating semblance might merge into a stubborn fact. - -Mrs. Annandale met the two excursionists at the door with a most severe -countenance of disfavor. - -“And where have you been junketing, Miss?” she demanded. - -“I have been finding corn for the garrison,” Arabella replied, -demurely. “I have brought in a whole pettiaugre load.” - -Mrs. Annandale lifted her gaze to the animated aspect of the parade. -A fog hung low, but through it was heard the continual tramp of -hoofs, and now and again a laden animal passed swiftly, more than one -sending forth shrill neighs of content, obviously aware of the value -of this replenishment of the larder and recognizing it as for their -own provision. Across the parade and beyond the barracks in the stable -precincts lights were flickering and lanterns swaying. One of the large -sheds was to serve as granary, and the sound of hammers and nails gave -token of some belated arrangements there for the provender. - -“And did you think I should be satisfied with that bit of a message -that your father sent me through the sentinel at the gate--that he had -taken you with him amongst the Indians! Sure, I have had fits on fits!” - -“’Twas but to keep in practice, Aunt Claudia,” Arabella retorted. -“Sure, you could not be afraid that papa is not able to take care of -me!” - -Mrs. Annandale, in doleful eclipse, looked sourly at Raymond. - -“With this gentleman’s worshipful assistance,” she snapped. - -“I am always at her service--and at yours, madam,” said Raymond. He -bowed profoundly, his cocked hat in his hand almost swept the ground. -Mervyn still watching, though the dusk strained his eyes, had little -reason to grudge his rival the colloquy that looked so pretty and -gracious at the distance. - -He contrived to meet Raymond that night in the mess-hall. The dinner -was concluded; the place almost deserted, the quarter-master being at -the improvised granary, and Jerrold and Innis both on extra duty, the -ensign having charge of the pettiaugre still lying half unloaded at the -bank, and the lieutenant keeping a cautious surveillance on the parties -sent out and their return with the precious commodity. - -Raymond had taken down a bow and gayly decorated quiver from the wall, -and was examining them critically by the light of the candles on the -table. There was a glow of satisfaction on his face and the bright -radiance of gratulation in his eyes, for the weapons designed for a -royal hand were even more beautiful, and curious, and rare than he -had thought; the bow, elastic and strong, wrought to the smoothness -of satin, the wood showing an exquisite veining, tipped at each end -with polished and glittering quartz, the arrows similarly finished, -and winged with scarlet flamingo feathers, the quiver a mass of bead -embroideries with dyed porcupine quills and scarlet fringes. - -Mervyn stared at him silently for a time, thinking this earnest -surveillance might attract his attention and induce him to speak first. -But Raymond, thoughtfully murmuring, _sotto voce_,--“‘Tell me, maidens, -have you seen,’” took no notice of his quondam Damon, save a nod of -greeting when Mervyn had entered and sat down on the opposite side of -the table. - -“What are you going to do with those things?” Mervyn asked. No one can -be so brusque as the thoroughly trained. A few weeks ago, however, the -question would have savored merely of familiarity, as of boys together. -Now, in view of the strained relations subsisting between them, it was -so rude as to justify the reply. Raymond lifted his head, stared hard -at his brother officer across the table, then answered:-- - -“What do you suppose?” - -Mervyn put his elbow on the table, with his chin in his hand, speaking -between his set teeth. - -“I will tell you exactly what I suppose. I suppose you are insufferable -enough to intend to present them to Miss Howard.” - -Raymond was obliged to lean backward to be rid of the intervening flame -of the candle in order to see his interlocutor, face to face, and the -action gave added emphasis to the answer,--“Why, bless me, you are a -conjurer!” - -“I want you to understand distinctly that I object.” - -“I shall not take the trouble to understand any objection of yours,” -declared Raymond. - -“I have a right to object to your presumption in offering her any gift. -She is engaged to be married to me.” - -Raymond paled visibly. Then with a sudden return of color he declared, -hardily:-- - -“I should send them to her even if she were already married to you.” - -“You are insolent and presuming, sir. I object. I forbid it. It will be -very unpleasant to her to refuse them.” - -“I should suppose so,” cried Raymond, airily, “since she has already -accepted them--this afternoon, in her father’s presence.” - -Mervyn sat dumbfounded. He had not dreamed that she would continue -to exercise such free agency as to act in a matter like this without -a reference to his wish. And her father--while the distinctions of -rank in the army did not hold good in outside society or even in the -fraternal association of the mess-room, he could not easily upbraid -the commandant of the fort, in years so much his senior, for a failure -in his paternal duty, an oblivion of etiquette, of his obligations to -his daughter’s fiancé and undue encouragement of a possible rival. But -why had Captain Howard not given her a caution to refer the matter to -his, Mervyn’s, preference,--why had he permitted the offer and the -acceptance of the gift in his presence. To be sure the weapons were -but curios, and of only nominal cost in this region, but to receive -anything from Raymond! And then the pitfall into which Mervyn had so -resolutely cast himself--how could Raymond do aught but send the gift -which the lady had so willingly, so graciously accepted. Raymond’s eyes -were glancing full of laughter at his sedate objection, his lordly -prohibition. The things were already hers! - -Not a syllable of speech suggested itself to Mervyn’s lips; not a -plan of retraction, or withdrawal from the room. He felt an intense -relief when Jerrold and Innis came plunging into the hall, full of -satisfaction for the accomplishment of the proper bestowal of the corn -in the makeshift granary, and their computations of the length of time -the quantity secured might by economy be made to last. - -“What beauties,” said Jerrold, noticing the weapons. “You got these in -Tuckaleechee last year, didn’t you?” - -“And I have presented them to Miss Howard,” said Raymond. - -“Good! Just the right weight, I should judge. Does she shoot?” - -Mervyn sat boiling with rage as he heard Raymond interrogated and -answering, from the vantage ground of familiar friendship, these -details, all unknown to him, concerning his fiancée. - -“Won the silver arrow recently at an archery competition, she tells me.” - -“Gad! I’d like to see her draw this thing!” And Jerrold pulled the taut -line of deer-sinews, noting admiringly the elasticity of the wood as -the bow bent and he fitted an arrow in place. - -He laid it aside, presently, and turned to the table. “And what is -this?” he asked, picking up a bag of bead embroidery, rich and ornate, -with long bead fringes, and a stiff bead-wrought handle, like a bail. - -“Oh, that’s for Mrs. Annandale--I think it must be intended for -a tobacco pouch, but it occurred to me she might use it for a -knotting-bag, and as a souvenir of the country.” - -Mervyn silently cursed himself for a fool. Possibly Raymond had -naught in mind other than the ordinary civil attentions incumbent in -such a situation. He was merely making his compliments to the two -ladies, members of the commandant’s family, visiting the post under -circumstances so unusual. Jerrold evidently thought the selection and -presentation of the curios very felicitous, and was obviously racking -his brains to devise some equally pretty method of expressing his -pleasure and interest in their presence here. - -Even the acute Mrs. Annandale viewed the incident in much the same -light. The simultaneous appearance of the bow and quiver with the -gorgeous little “knotting-bag” seemed only well-devised compliments to -the ladies,--guests in the fort,--and she thought it very civil of Mr. -Raymond, and said she was glad to have something worth while to take -back to Kent to prove she had ever been to America,--she apparently did -not rely on her own word. - -In truth it was not every day that such things could be picked up -here. The Cherokees were growing dull and disheartened. The cheap, -tawdry European trifles with which the Indian trade had flooded the -country had served to disparage in their estimation their own laborious -ornaments and articles of use. When a pipe or a bowl of a kind turned -out by millions in a mould, strange and new to their perverted taste, -could be bought in an instant of barter, why should they expend two -years in the slow cutting of a pipe of moss agate, by the method -of friction, rubbing one stone on another; when a bushel of glass -beads was to be had for a trifle how should they care to drill holes -through tiny cylinders of shell, with a polish that bespoke a lifetime -of labor? There could be blankets bought at the traders in lieu of -fur robes and braided mantles. Now-a-days, except grease, and paint, -and British muskets,--the barrels sawed off as the Indians liked -them,--there was little to choose for souvenirs in the Cherokee country. - -Arabella was unaccountably disappointed. Not in the weapons, -themselves--she cried out in delighted pleasure and astonishment on -beholding them. Then, certainly, she did not grudge Mrs. Annandale the -trophy of her knotting-bag. But she had felt that he had not intended -the present as a mere bit of gallantry, a passing compliment. She had -valued the gift because of its thoughtfulness for her pleasure; he had -noted the need it filled; it contributed to her entertainment; it came -as a personal token from him to her. But now since it was relegated to -the category of a compliment to the ladies, along with the knotting-bag -which was already blazing in considerable splendor at Mrs. Annandale’s -side, and lighting up her black satin gown with a very pretty effect, -Arabella felt as if she had lost something. A light that the skies had -not bestowed on that dark landscape was dying out of the recollection -of the day on the river,--she remembered it as it was, with its dull -sad monotone of the hills, the gray sky, the cold rippled steel of -the waters, and the cutting blasts of the wind. She had returned home -all aglow, and now she was cold, and tired, and dispirited; and she -wondered that Raymond did not come to play “Whisk” or Quadrille if he -desired to make a general compliment to the ladies--and why her father -had grown to be such dull company. - -For Captain Howard did naught but sit after dinner in his great chair, -with his decanter on the table beside him, and his glass of wine -untouched in his hand, and stare at the flaming logs in deep revery, -agreeing with a nod or an irrelevant word to all his sister might say -while she detailed practically the whole history of the county of Kent, -not merely since his departure thence, but since indeed it was erected. - -Captain Howard, tall, bony, muscular, stout of heart, rude of -experience, seemed hardly a man to see visions, but he beheld in the -flames of the fire that evening things that were not there. - -Cannon in the Cherokee country! How they volleyed and smoked from -between the logs of the commandant’s fire. Here and there in the -brilliant dancing jets he beheld a score of war bonnets. He could see -quick figures circle, leap, and turn again in the lithe writhings of -the protean shadow and blaze. The piles of red-hot coals between the -fire-dogs were a similitude of the boulders, the cliffs, the rocky -fastnesses of those almost inaccessible wilds. Above a swirling current -of blazes bursting forth from a great hickory log he beheld a battery -planted on a commanding promontory, harassing with its scintillating -explosions, the shadowy craft that sought to escape on the turbulent -stream below. - -Cannon in the Cherokee country! - -Naught could so extend the power of the Indians. Always they had longed -for artillery. How many times had the crafty delegations sought to -represent to him that “one little piece” would do much to strengthen -them against the advance of the perfidious French,--whom, in truth, -they loved, and they rallied continually to the standard of the “great -French father.” But even though the French were in their aggressions -successful beyond all precedent in detaching the Cherokees from their -compact with Great Britain, and setting them in arms against the -government, they never dared to trust the tribe with cannon. So easily -is a swivel gun turned, and with the fickle Indians it might be against -the foe to-day and the friend to-morrow. With the comparative long -range of the arm of that time, a few pieces, well placed in commanding -situations, might hold the defiles of the Great Smoky Mountains against -all comers. - -Cannon in the Cherokee country! - -How could Walasi’s words be true! Captain Howard meditated on the -difficulty of their transportation amidst the stupendous upheavals that -made up the face of the country,--the steep slopes, the tremendous -heights, the cuplike valleys, hardly a plot of twenty acres of level -ground in the whole vast region. For his own part in expectation of -the evacuation of Fort Prince George he was thankful that the currents -of the Keowee and the broad Savannah would serve to bear its armament -to the forts in the lower country. He continued to canvass this theme -with a soldier’s interest in a problem of transportation. To the -civilian the glories and honors of war are won or lost on the fenced -field of battle, but to the military expert the secret of victory or -defeat is often discovered in the mobilization of the force. He was -returning with unappeased wonder to the problem,--and to this day it -is a matter of conjecture,--how the twelve cannon of Fort Loudon, more -than one hundred miles to the northwest, had ever been conveyed to that -remote inaccessible post. The blockade of the fort, its capitulation, -and the massacre of its starveling garrison were events that befell -before his detail to Fort Prince George, and much of mystery still -environed the catastrophe. He knew that after the Cherokees were -punished, and subdued, and practically disarmed by the British force -sent into the country to reduce them to submission, the treaty of peace -provided for the return of the cannon which the Indians had seized. -They brought them as far as they could on the Tennessee River, then -with infinite labor dragged them through the wilderness, an incredible -portage, to the Keowee. Suddenly Captain Howard sprang to his feet; -his glass of rich old port, falling from his hand and shivering into a -thousand fragments on the hearth, sent up a vinous white flame from the -coals that received the libation. - -For the Indians had brought eight guns only! One piece was known to -have burst, overcharged and mishandled by the Cherokees in their -experiments in gunnery after the reduction of the fort. The others, -it was declared, had been spiked, or otherwise demolished, by the -defenders, in violation of the terms of their capitulation--it was -claimed that they had sunk each piece as they could in the river. The -fact which had been established that they had hidden large stores of -powder, in the hope and expectation that the government might soon -again reoccupy the works, was not consistent with this story of the -destruction of the guns and might serve in a degree to discredit the -statement of the Indians that all the cannon they had captured were -delivered to the British authorities. And now this boast of cannon -in the Cherokee country! He well believed it! He would have taken -his oath that there were three pieces--all part of the armament of -the ill-fated Fort Loudon, withheld by the Cherokees, awaiting an -opportunity and the long-delayed day of vengeance for the slaughter and -the conflagrations that marked the track of the British forays through -their devastated land, when for lack of powder they could oppose no -effective resistance, and were fain to submit to the bullet, the knife, -the torch, till the conquerors were tired out with their orgies of -blood and fire. - -He became suddenly conscious of his daughter’s hazel eyes, wide and -lustrous with amazement, lifted to his, as he stood, alert, triumphant, -tingling with excitement, on the hearth, and heard in mingled -embarrassment and laughter his sister’s sarcastic recommendation that -he should throw the decanter into the fire after his bumper of port -wine. - -“Upon my word you frontier fanfarons are mighty lavish. In England we -picture you as going sadly all the day wrapped in a greasy blanket, -eating Indian meal, and drinking ‘fire-water,’--and we come here to -find you all lace ruffles, and powdered wigs, and prancing in your silk -hose, and throwing your port wine into the fire to see it blaze!” - -“The goblet slipped from my hand--it was a mischance, Sister.” - -“My certie! it shows you’ve had too much already; ’twas ever the fault -of a soldier. Had I my way in the old times you should have been none.” - -“I would seem more temperate under a table, after a meet, like one of -your home-staying, fox-hunting squires,” suggested the captain. - -“Well, but ’tis a pity a man should have no resource but the army. -Faith, I’m glad George Mervyn is not to be forever marching and -counter-marching.” - -She glanced slyly at Arabella, who looked pale in faint blue and a -little dull. She did not respond, and Mrs. Annandale had a transient -fear that she might say she did not care how George Mervyn spent his -future. The girl’s mind, like her father’s, was elsewhere, but with -what different subjects of contemplation! Captain Howard was saying to -himself that he could never leave the Cherokee country with British -cannon in the hands of the Indians. Even without this menace the -evacuation of Fort Prince George seemed a trifle premature, in view of -their inimical temper. How far this was fostered by the expectation -of securing an adequate supply of powder to utilize the guns to the -destruction of the British defences, which could not stand for an -hour against a well-directed fire of artillery, and the massacre -of the garrison, none could say. The French, now retiring from the -country on every hand, might, as a Parthian dart, supply the Indians’ -need of powder, and then indeed the Cherokee War would be to fight -anew,--with much disaster to the infant settlements of the provinces -to the southward, for the stalwart pioneers were hardily pushing into -the region below, their “cow-pens,” or ranches along the watercourses, -becoming oases of a rude civilization, and their vast herds roaming the -savannas in lordly promise of bucolic wealth. - -Cannon in the Cherokee country! - -Captain Howard could but laugh, even in his perplexity, when he thought -of the resilient execution of the insult offered him by the chief of -Keowee Town in declining to receive the military mendicant and setting -a “second man,” Walasi, the Frog, a commercial man, so to speak, to -deal with the soldier. - -“Tell us the joke,” said his sister, insistently, with no inclination -to be shut out of mind when she was aware it was closed against her. - -“Only reflecting on the events of the day,” he said evasively, and -Arabella, brightening suddenly, declared with a gurgling laugh, “Yes, -we had a fine time on the river.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - - -Many an anxious perplexity had harassed Captain Howard’s repose in the -night watches during his tour of duty at Fort Prince George. Never one -like this, he thought. Try as he might, the problem seemed to have -no possible solution. Every plan bristled with difficulties. Every -chance seemed arrayed against his eager hopes. The British cannon were -in the Cherokee country, withheld, in defiance of the terms of the -treaty, capable of incalculable harm both to the garrison as matters -now stood, and to the frontier settlements in the future. The moral -effect of supinely permitting the Indians to overreach and outwit the -government was in itself of disastrous possibilities, reinstating their -self-confidence, renewing their _esprit de corps_, and fostering that -contempt for the capacities of their enemy, from which the Cherokees -always suffered as well as inflicted so many futile calamities. -The cannon must be surrendered in accordance with the terms of the -treaty, or he would be obliged to call down the retributive wrath of -the British War Office upon the recalcitrant and perfidious Cherokee -nation. But while with his handful of troops he awaited British -aid,--an expeditionary force sent out to compel compliance with the -treaty and to discipline the Indians,--he must needs expect to sustain -the preliminary violence of such wars. Fort Prince George might well -be razed to the ground by the very cannon in contention, the settlers -to the southward would certainly be massacred as of old, and all the -dearly-bought fruits of the late terrible conflict would be lost and -brought to naught. If it were only possible to secure the cannon -without an appeal to the government, without jeopardizing the peace of -the frontier! - -Captain Howard held himself no great tactician, but when he rose in -the morning from a sleepless pillow he believed he had formulated a -scheme to compass these ends which might possibly stand the strain of -execution. True, it had its special and great dangers, against which -he would provide as far as he was able, but he feared nevertheless it -would cost some lives. And then a new and troublous doubt rose in his -mind. It would not be consonant with his duty to again absent himself -from Fort Prince George at this crisis. He must needs delegate the -active execution of his scheme, and somehow the material on which he -could depend impressed him as strangely unavailable when it came to -such a test. Mervyn, by virtue of his rank, might seem best fitted -for the enterprise, and he had been considered a steady and capable -officer. The matter was extra hazardous. It necessitated a clear -judgment, an absolute obedience to orders if possible, great physical -endurance, and a cool head. In many respects he thought Mervyn filled -these requirements, but a mistaken appraisement of his qualities by his -commanding officer would be an error of fatal results, and somehow -Captain Howard found on sifting his convictions that he had, albeit -for slight cause, lost confidence in Mervyn. To be sure, Mervyn had in -his formal report rectified the false impression under which he had -permitted the commandant to rest for a time, but Captain Howard was a -straightforward man himself and he could not easily recover from the -impression created by the captain-lieutenant’s duplicity in standing -by and receiving commendations for the acts of another man--the fact -of being in that other man’s presence made it a futile folly, which -implied a lack of logic. Oddly enough, logic was one of the essential -requisites on an expedition among the Indians. Such emergencies might -arise that the officer could only act on his own initiative, and Mervyn -seemed not capable of striking out the most effective course and -holding to it at all odds. - -Captain Howard groaned under the weight of responsibility. He was -compelled to trust the lives of a score of his men to the wisdom or -unwisdom of his selection of an officer to command them. While Mervyn, -by virtue of his rank, had the first claim to the conduct of an -important matter requiring tact, discretion, mental poise, he was ruled -out of the possibilities. He was too self-conscious, too uncertain, -too slack in judgment, too obtuse to fine distinctions. Ensign Innis -also was out of the question. He was too young, too inexperienced, and -Ensign Lawrence was too young, not only in years, but in mind,--a mere -blundering boy. It would be suicidal to match his unthinking faculties -against the subtle wiles of the sages of the upper towns. Lieutenant -Jerrold then it must be,--but Jerrold was the most literal-minded -of men! He was absolutely devoid of imagination, of speculation, of -that capacity to see through the apparent fact to the lurking truth -beyond. He was a very efficient man in his place, but his place was -a subordinate station. He would do with thoroughness the obviously -necessary, but he would not be conscious of an emergency till it was -before his feet as a pitfall, or immediately in his path as an enemy. -He would take the regulation precautions, but he would not divine a -danger, nor detect duplicity, nor realize a subtlety which he did not -share. He was the predestined victim of ambush. He was a martinet on -the drill ground and a terror at inspection. He laid great stress on -pipe-clay and rotten-stone, and whatever the stress of the situation -the men of his immediate command always showed up preternaturally -smart. Captain Howard was no prophet, but he felt he could view with -the eye of accomplished fact the return of Jerrold in ten days with the -calm announcement that there were no British cannon in the Cherokee -country, for he had been given this solemn assurance by no less a -personage than Cunigacatgoah. - -Captain Howard did not even consider Bolt for the enterprise; he was -a military machine, incapable of devising an expedient in emergency -or acting on his own initiative. Besides, his duties as fort-adjutant -were particularly pressing just now in view of the preparations for -the early evacuation of the post and they could not be delegated. -Therefore there remained only Raymond,--Captain Howard was in despair -as he thought of Raymond and his interpretation of his orders to -“persuade” the missionary to return. Impulsive, headstrong, eager, -quick, indefatigable, emotional, imaginative,--what room was there for -prudence in this fiery temperament! Still, he had shown a degree of -coolness at the encounter of the boat with the Tamotlee Indians, and -had given the soldiers an excellent example of imperturbability under -the stress of exciting circumstances. But this was his element,--the -contact of actual contention,--the shock of battle so to speak. How -would he restrain himself when outwitted,--how would he gather few -and feeble resources and make the best of them,--how might he see fit -to tamper with his instructions and obey or not as he liked,--or if a -right judgment found those orders based on fallacious premises, unknown -to the commandant, how should he have discretion to modify them and act -on his own initiative, or would he, like Bolt, persist in following -the letter if it destroyed the spirit of his instructions? Oh, it was -hard to be reduced to a choice of a madcap ensign, in this matter of -paramount importance? He could not, he would not, send Raymond--his -impetuosity was enough to bring the whole Cherokee country about their -ears. - -He shook his head, scowling unwittingly, as he chanced to catch sight -of Raymond while crossing the parade, and still uncertain and morosely -cogitating, he took his way to the commandant’s office and disappeared -from vision. - -On the space beyond the parade Raymond and Arabella were greatly -exercised in marking out a course for her archery practice. The promise -of a fair day had been joyously fulfilled. The breeze was fresh, but -bland and straight from the south; despite the leafless forests the sun -shone with a vernal brilliance; a flock of wild geese going northward -passed high over the fort, the cry, unfamiliar to Arabella, floating -down to her ears, and she stood as long as she could see them, her head -upturned, her hat fallen on the ground, her eyes following their flight -as the wedge-shaped battalion deployed through the densely blue sky: -there seemed even a swifter movement in the current of the river, and -through the great gate one could from the parade catch sight of a white -glister on the face of the waters where the ripples reflected the sun. - -So soft was the air that the young lady wore no cloak. Her -close-fitting gown of hunter’s green cloth, opening over a vest and -petticoat of sage-tinted paduasoy, brocaded in darker shades of green, -was not out of keeping with the woodland suggestions of the bow which -she held in her hand and the quiver already slung over her shoulder, -its gorgeous polychromatic tints rendering her an object of mark in -the brilliant sunshine from far across the parade. But she paused in -her preparations to lament the lack of the uniform of the archery -club which she had left in the oak press of her room at home, and -Raymond listened as she described it, with her picture, thus arrayed, -as vivid in his mind as the actual sight of her standing there, her -golden hair glimmering in the sun, her white hands waving to and fro -as she illustrated the features of the uniform and recounted the -contentions of taste, the cabals and heart-burnings, the changes and -counter-changes which the club had shared before at length the triumph -of costume was devised, and made and worn before the acclaiming -plaudits of half the county. - -“Faint green,” she said, “the very shade for a Diana,--” - -“I like a darker green,--Diana wears a hunter’s green,” he interrupted. - -“Why do you think that?” she asked, nonplussed, her satisfaction a -trifle wilted. - -“I know it,” he said, a little consciously; and as she still stared -at him, he went on: “hunter’s green is the shade of the forest -verdure,--it is a tint selected not only for beauty but to deceive -the keen vision of game. It stands to reason that Diana should wear a -hunter’s green.” - -She meditated on this view for a few moments in silence, and the eyes -of Lieutenant Jerrold, as he loitered in the door of the mess-hall, -noted their eager absorption as they stood in the grassy space between -the commandant’s quarters and the block-house in the bastion, in -which was situated the mess-hall. There were a few trees here, still -leafless, and a number of the evergreen shrubs of the region, either -spared for shade where they originally grew, or transplanted by some -earlier commandant, voicing as clearly as words a yearning homesickness -for a colonial or an English garden, and now attaining a considerable -height and a redundant spread of boughs. An English rose, now but -leafless brambles, clambered over the doorway of the commandant’s -quarters, and along a hedgerow of rhododendron, which reached the -proportions of a wind-break, protruded some imported bulbous plants -of a simple sort, whether crocus or hyacinth, one could hardly judge -from so slight a tip piercing the mould. The bare parade was quiet now; -earlier in the morning there had been roll-call and guard-mounting; -and Mervyn, released from duty as officer of the day, could also see -from where he sat in the mess-hall the interested attitudes of the two -as they paused in their preparations for target practice to enjoy the -pleasures of conversation. - -“The benighted ninny!” Mrs. Annandale, commenting on Mervyn, said to -herself in pettish despair, watching the _tête-à-tête_ from the window -of the commandant’s parlor,--she had promised Arabella to witness her -proficiency from this coigne of vantage, for the outer air was too -brisk without the off-set of active exercise, “Why _doesn’t_ George -Mervyn join them?” For she had observed Mervyn as he had quitted the -orderly room, and marked his start of surprise and relaxed pace as his -eyes fell upon the two,--then his dogged affectation of indifference as -he briskly crossed to the block-house in the bastion. - -“Hunter’s green is the wood-nymph’s wear forever,” Raymond declared, -eying Arabella as she stood in distinct relief against the darker -green of the rhododendron hedge, in the flickering sunshine and -shade under the branches of a balsam fir. “But I have no doubt,” he -continued, with a sudden courteous afterthought, “that the archery -uniform, though not designed with a strict view of sylvan utility, was -very smart in faint green.” - -“Oh, it was,--it was,”--she acceded, with ready good-humor. “It was -relieved with white--” - -“Oh, another tone of green, by all means,” he blurted out impulsively, -and now he had some ado to catch himself in this inadvertence--was he -dull enough, he asked himself, to openly worship in set phrase the gown -she now wore? “Was the relief a dead white,--like our pipe-clay gear?” -he critically demanded. - -“No-o--what they call a white silver cloth, now-a-days, and with a -little cap of white silver cloth, with a tinsel half-moon.” - -“Oh, a lady is so fair,--the caps ought to have been a dark green to -set off an exquisite fairness,--and a broad hat, a furry beaver hat, -would have been prettier in my eyes than a cap.” - -Oh, fool! seeming much confused now, and just remembering that it is -her hat--her broad furry beaver hat--in your mind, lying there in the -sand, with its drooping feather and its long strings of wide sage-green -ribbon to tie under her delicate chin. No wonder you turn deeply red, -and begin to try the bow-line of a great unstrung Indian bow with all -your strength. - -“But all ladies are not fair,” she protested. “That white silver cloth -cap was Eva Golightly’s selection to set off her black hair,--she wears -no powder,--that is, not on her hair!” - -He laughed gayly at the imputation, and the roguish glance of her eyes -encountered in his a candid mutual enjoyment of the little fling. - -“But it is a charming costume,” she went on, “and so convenient,--with -no hanging sleeves, nor lappets or frills to catch at the bow and arrow -as one shoots,--everything laid on in plain bands,--I wish I had not -left it at home, but of course I did not dream I should have any such -lovely chance to shoot here.” - -“And why not, pray?--the land of the bow and arrow!” - -“How could I imagine I should be furnished with these adorable -toys--just the proper weight and size. I could not handle a real bow -like yours, for instance. It is a weapon in truth!” - -She suddenly held out her bow to exchange for experiment, and lifting -the long, straight, heavy weapon, she sought to bend it from the -perpendicular to string it. The stout wood resisted her force, and she -paused to admire its smooth grain, which had a sheen like satin. He did -not think its history worth telling,--a grewsome recollection for so -fair a day! He had taken it from a Cherokee warrior whom he had slain -during the late war in a hand-to-hand conflict--a desperate encounter, -for the Indian had held him half doubled by a clutch on his powdered -and perfumed hair, and the scalp-knife had grazed his forehead before -he could make shift to fire his pistol, twice flashing in the pan, into -his captor’s heart. He had no time to reload, and snatching up the bow -of his adversary he had fitted and shot an arrow with fatal effect at a -tribesman who was coming up to his comrade’s assistance; then Raymond -made good his retreat, carrying the bow as a trophy. - -It was indeed a weapon. “Terrible was the clanging of the silver bow” -as he strung it and then drew back the cord to try it, and then let -it fly again. Arabella exclaimed with a shrilly sweet delight at the -unexpected resonance of the taut bow-line. He fitted an arrow and -drew back, sighting carefully at the target. This was a board painted -white, with several dark circles about a bull’s-eye, affixed against -a tree, beyond which was the blank interior slope of the rampart, and -above, the red clay parapet surmounted by the long line of the stakes -of the tall stockade. Captain Howard, himself, had selected the spot. -In common with all regulars he believed--and fire cannot scorch this -faith out of them--that only the trained soldier can fight, or shoot, -or acquire any accuracy of aim. He had therefore placed the flower of -the archery club where her quartz-tipped arrows, if wide of the mark, -could only pierce the heavy clay embankment and endanger the life and -welfare of neither man nor beast. Suddenly Raymond let fly the shaft, -testing the wind. It had fallen now to the merest zephyr, and did not -swerve the arrow a hair’s breadth from the mark. It struck fair and -full in the bull’s-eye, for these frontier officers often were called -upon to defend their lives with their own hands, and sought skill -in marksmanship, a steady hand, a trained eye, and a cool head as -zealously as did the rank and file. - -The youthful Diana, her draperies flying in the motion as she sped -through shadow and sheen, gained the target as quickly as he. As he -recovered his arrow he was laughing with flattered pleasure noting -her eagerness to assure herself of the accuracy of his aim, while she -uttered little exclamations of wonder and delight at his efficiency. - -“Wouldn’t you make them stare in Kent?” she cried breathlessly, as the -two raced together swiftly to the starting-point. - -Then she selected an arrow from her gorgeous little quiver, hanging -over her shoulder, and fitted the shaft to the bow. It was the -prettiest attitude imaginable as she stood in the mingled shadow and -sheen, her golden hair glimmering in the sun, and drawing the cord took -careful aim. Her arrow sprang smartly from the string, sped through -the air, and entered one of the circles so close to the centre as to -justify Raymond’s joyous cry of congratulation, echoing through the -parade. - -“Gad! I think I’ll see this thing through!” Jerrold exclaimed, as he -still stood in the mess-room door. He turned to the wall, and took -down a bow that had been used there for ornament rather than a weapon. -As he approached across the parade he noticed that the face of every -passer-by was turned with smiling eyes toward the spirited and handsome -young couple, and when he came up and was greeted genially by Raymond, -and with a gracious word of welcome by the lady, he thought sagely that -the best archer on the ground was invisible, and that the prettiest -shots were not registered on the target. - -The absence of Mervyn seemed the more significant now, since the other -young officers not on duty were occupied in the gallant endeavor to -make the archery practice of the young lady more interesting and -exciting by competition. As he dully sulked in the deserted mess-hall, -he had the cold comfort of perceiving that his presence was by no -means essential to the young lady’s enjoyment of the occasion. Her -musical, ringing laughter, now much heartier than either Mrs. Annandale -or Mervyn thought becoming or consonant with the simpering ideals of -the times, was blended with the very definite merriment of the young -officers, who by no means had been taught to “laugh by note.” Jerrold’s -entrance to the pastime had added greatly to its gayety. He was a fair -shot with fire-arms, but he entertained, of course, great contempt for -the bow and arrow as a weapon. He had no sort of appreciation of its -grace in usage nor interest in the romantic details of its archaic -history, either in civilized countries of eld or in this new and savage -world. In his literal mind the mighty bow-men of whatever sort were a -set of inefficient varlets, whom a pinch of gun-powder might justly -put to rout. Hence he scarcely knew how to take hold of the weapon. -He had not even taxed his observation with its methods, although he -had often seen Indian hunters use it in shooting at game, and more -than once, since the scarcity of powder among the Cherokees, a forlorn -destitute wight seek to defend his life with its dubious and precarious -aid. Therefore there was much glee on the part of the two experts when -Jerrold claimed his turn; after several efforts he awkwardly contrived -to draw the bow and sent an arrow feebly fluttering through the air to -fall to the ground a few paces distant. Arabella clapped her hands like -a child as she burst into melodious peals of laughter, and Raymond’s -amusement at this travesty of archery was hardly less spontaneous. -Though vastly superior, they showed themselves not grudging of their -proficiency; they undertook to instruct Jerrold in correct methods, -one standing on either side of him and both talking at once. Suddenly -Raymond called out sharply to Arabella, cautioning her lest she pass -between the archer and the target. “For heaven’s sake,--for mercy’s -sake,” he adjured her solemnly, “pray be careful!” - -She flushed deeply at the tone; it thrilled in her heart; the next -moment her heart was aching with the realization that it was of no -special significance. Any one might caution another with a reckless -exposure to danger. - -“I fancy the safest place is between the archer and the target when Mr. -Jerrold shoots,” she said laughing. - -Then again ensued the farce of Jerrold’s efforts, the faltering shaft -falling far short of the mark,--with such wide divergence, indeed, -even from the line of aim, that Captain Howard’s disposition of the -target in so remote a spot was amply justified. As once more the joyous -laughter rang forth in which Jerrold, himself, readily bore a sonorous -part, Mervyn suddenly joined the group. He had gained nothing by his -absence, and indeed he could no longer nurse his anger in secret to -keep it warm. - -“What is all this?” he asked curtly, glancing about him with an air of -disparagement. - -“Can’t you see?” returned Jerrold. “It is archery practice.” - -“Will you shoot?” Raymond suggested, civilly offering him the bow which -he had used himself. - -Mervyn hesitated. He thought himself a fair bowman, but he fancied from -the state of the target and what he had heard of the acclaim of success -that Raymond had made some very close hits. He feared lest he might -come off a poor second. He was not willing to be at a disadvantage in -Arabella’s presence even in so small a matter. He resented, too, the -sight of her use of Raymond’s gift,--the beautiful bow in her hand, -the decorated quiver, with its crystal-tipped arrows, hanging from its -embroidered strap over her dainty shoulder. He could not refrain from a -word that might serve to disparage them. - -“No,” he refused, “I don’t care for archery. It is a childish pastime.” - -“I am beholden to you, sir!” exclaimed Arabella, exceedingly stiffly. - -She really was so expert as to render her proficiency almost an -accomplishment, and she was of a spirit to resent the contemptuous -disparagement of a pastime which she so ardently affected. - -“I mean, of course, for men and soldiers,” Mervyn qualified, with a -deep flush, for her tone had brought him suddenly to book. - -“The bow-men of Old England?” she said, with her chin in the air. - -“They had no better weapons,” he reminded her, with an air of -instruction. “And their victories were not child’s play. It was the -best they could do.” - -“And this is the best that I can do!” she said, fitting an arrow to the -bow and throwing herself into that attitude of incomparable grace. - -Whether it was an accident, whether she had made an extraordinary -effort, whether the discord, the nettled displeasure, the roused -pride, served to steady her nerves, as self-assertion sometimes will -do, the arrow, springing from the string, cleft the air with a musical -sibilance that was like a measure of song, and flying straight to the -mark struck the bull’s-eye fairly and stuck there, rendering the feat -absolutely impossible of disallowance. - -Raymond’s delight knew no bounds. He sympathized so in her pleasure. -They looked at each other with wide, brilliant eyes full of mutual -joy, and ran together to the target to make sure of what was already -assured. As they came back both were laughing excitedly, and Raymond -was loudly talking. “Let us leave it there to show to Captain Howard. -He will never believe it else. Let not another arrow be shot till then, -lest somebody strike the target and the jar bring this arrow down.” - -“Except Mr. Jerrold!” Arabella stipulated, with a gush of laughter. -“There is no danger of his hitting the target, far or near.” - -“Yes,--yes,--” exclaimed Raymond, adopting the suggestion. “Here, -Jerrold, value your special privileges! You only may draw the bow.” - -Jerrold braced himself to the endeavor, good-naturedly adopting the -advice of each in turn as they took up their station, one on either -side. - -“Slip your left hand lower!” Raymond urged. - -“Oh, you _must_ hold the arrow steady!” Arabella admonished him. - -“Now aim,--aim,--man!” Raymond prompted. - -“Why don’t you take sight, Mr. Jerrold?” Arabella queried. - -Mervyn, looking on disaffectedly as all were so merrily busy, noticed -that two or three soldiers who passed near enough to see down the -little grassy glade among the trees sensibly slackened their pace in -their interest in the commotion, and, indeed, the whole scene was -visible to the sentries at the gate, the warder in the tower, and to a -certain extent from the galleries of the barracks. - -“Don’t you think it is injudicious, Jerrold,” he remarked, with distant -displeasure, “to make yourself ridiculous in the eyes of the men of -your command?” - -“Oh, no!” said Jerrold, lightly. “They know it is capital punishment -to ridicule me. Make your mind easy.” - -“It must lessen your influence!” Mervyn persisted. He hardly knew -what he wanted in this argument. He did not care a fig for Jerrold’s -influence over the men. He only desired some subterfuge to break up the -merry-making in which he did not choose to share. - -Jerrold did not even answer. Arabella on one side was offering a dozen -suggestions tending to improve his aim, and Raymond was by precept and -example endeavoring to get him into the right posture. - -“Now,--hold steady for a minute before you shoot,” said Raymond. - -“If you only could count ten in that position without moving,” -suggested Arabella. - -“Or better still, repeat the Cherokee invocation for good aim,” Raymond -proposed. “Might improve your luck.” And he continued sonorously: -“_Usinuli yu Selagwutsi Gigagei getsu neliga tsudandag gihi ayeliyu, -usinuliyu. Yu!_” (Instantly may the Great Red magic arrow strike you in -the very centre of your soul.) - -“Oh, repeat it! repeat it!” cried Arabella. “Try it, and see if it will -really mend your aim! What strange, strange words!” - -Jerrold was haltingly repeating this after Raymond when Captain Howard -came out of his office, and seeing the group took his way toward it. -Raymond’s back being toward him, he did not perceive the commandant’s -approach and continued the invocation, delivering it _ore rotundo_ in -imitation of the sonorous elocution of the Indians. - -It sounded very clever to Captain Howard, who always declared he envied -the facility with which the young officers picked up the colloquial -use of the Indian languages. He took no trouble himself to that end, -however. In his adoption of the adage with reference to the difficulty -of teaching an old dog new tricks, he did not adequately consider -the disinclination of the dog to the acquisition of fresh lore. The -younger men were more plastic to new impressions; they exerted a keener -observation; and felt a fresher interest, and few there were who had -not some familiarity with the tongue and traditions of the tribe of -Indians about the fort, and those among whom their extensive campaigns -had taken them. - -“What does all that mean?” Captain Howard asked curtly. - -Raymond translated, and explained Jerrold’s predicament and his need -of luck in default of skill. Then he turned with animation toward the -target, to celebrate the famous hit of Miss Howard’s arrow in the -bull’s-eye while she stood flushing and smiling and prettily conscious -beside him. But Captain Howard laid a constraining hand on his arm and -looking at him with earnest eyes, demanded, “Where did you get all that -Cherokee stuff?” - -“Oh, in the campaigns in the Cherokee country,” Raymond answered, “I -picked up a deal of their lingo.” For Raymond had served both in -Montgomery’s campaign and Grant’s subsequent forays through this region -two years ago, and his active mind had amassed much primitive lore, -which, however, he had never expected to use in any valuable sort. - -“Were you ever in Choté, Old Town?” queried the captain. - -“I was there on one occasion, sir” said Raymond now surprised and -expectant. - -“Then go there again,--take twenty picked men,--your own choice,--and -set out to-morrow at daybreak. Report for final orders this evening at -retreat.” - -Arabella, dismayed and startled, felt her heart sink. She turned -pale and tremulous; she did not know if a cloud passed over the -sun, but for her the light of the day was quenched. She could not -understand Raymond. His face was transfigured with a glow of delight. -She could not imagine the zest of such an employ to a young officer, -brave, ardent, eager to show his mettle, ambitious of any occasion -of distinction. This was his first opportunity. A distant march,--a -separate command of experienced soldiers,--even if only twenty! The -dignity of the prospect set Raymond all a-quiver. What cared he for the -jungles of the wild mountains, the distance, the toils, the danger! -As to the Indians,--it behooved the nations to look to their safety -when he was on the march with twenty men at his back! His cheek was -scarlet; his eyes flashed fire; he responded with a staid decorum -of acquiescence, but it was obvious that in his enthusiasm for the -opportunity he could have fallen at the feet of the commandant and -kissed his hands in gratitude. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - - -To Arabella’s amazement the other officers looked nettled, even -resentful, as if disparaged in some sort. Mervyn indeed wore an -expression of blank dismay as if he hardly knew how he should interpret -this setting aside of himself in favor of his subordinate. He could not -altogether restrain himself, and with a cold smile and a stiff dignity -he said presently, “We have all learned more or less of the Cherokee -language.” - -“Well,--well,--it is no great matter, for of course the official -interpreter goes with the party.” Captain Howard, so to speak, -shouldered the affair aside. He could well understand, however, the -mortification of Mervyn and Jerrold that they should be passed over -for a younger officer and only an ensign in rank. But he had had -the evidence of his senses to Raymond’s knowledge of the Cherokee -language, and this confirmed him in the selection which he had already -considered. He was glad to discover this particular fitness in the man -of his choice for this delicate and diplomatic mission, one who would -be keenly alive to all he might hear or see on festive or informal -occasions when no interpreter could be on duty. - -Raymond now had not a word to say, and presently he excused himself -with a look of importance and the plea that he desired to glance over -the roll and select the men for the expedition, to make sure that all -were fit, and properly equipped for the march. - -When he had quitted the group a silence ensued, heavy with the unspoken -reproach of the captain-lieutenant. The commandant felt constrained to -some casual comment: “The trouble with very young men is that they are -too disposed to underestimate difficulties,--too cock-sure. Raymond -would be as well pleased with the assignment if the march were five -hundred miles instead of one hundred and fifty!” - -“And so should I,” said Mervyn, suggestively. - -“Tut! Tut! You young men shouldn’t be so grudging,” said Captain -Howard, making the best of the untoward situation. “Give a man a chance -to show that he holds his commission for some better reason than the -purchase money. Gad, sir, don’t grudge him so!” - -As he turned away Jerrold, recovering himself from his disappointment -as best he might, thinking it a matter which he could more fittingly -deplore in secret and seclusion at another time, sought to obviate the -awkwardness of the discussion by inviting Captain Howard’s attention to -his daughter’s fine shot, the arrow still sticking in the bull’s-eye. -Captain Howard responded alertly, grateful indeed for the opportune -digression, and walked briskly down to the target with the fair -Arabella hanging on his arm, Jerrold at his side, and Mervyn still -sullenly preoccupied, following slowly. But the pleasure of the day -for Arabella was done and dead. Her father’s outcry of surprise and -approbation and commotion of applause, she felt was fictitious and -affected,--the kind of affectionate flattery which one offers a child -for some infantile conceit. It was a matter of supreme inutility in his -estimation whether she could shoot with a bow or not, and his mind was -busied with more important details. Jerrold’s phrases of commendation -as the group stood before the target and commented on the position of -the arrow were of no value, for he knew naught of the difficulty of -the achievement. Mervyn could really appreciate the exploit itself, -but Raymond valued it adequately, more than all because it was hers, -and he took pride and pleasure in her graceful proficiency. She had -had a glow of satisfaction in a good thing in its way well done; -she had been proud and pleased and well content with such honestly -earned admiration, but now her satisfaction was all wilted; and when -her father said, “There now, daughter, run away,--enough for this -morning,--run into the house, dear,” she was quite ready to obey, and -grateful for her dismissal and the breaking-up of the party. Mervyn, -to her infinite relief, did not offer to follow her. His mind was all -on the expedition to Choté, which Ensign Raymond was to command, and -he walked off with Jerrold and the captain, thinking that even yet -something might befall to induce the commandant to countermand his -orders and make a change in the personnel of the force. - -Arabella was sure she was not tired, for a little exercise such as -she had taken was hardly enough to tax her buoyant, youthful vigor, -but she felt as she reached the stairs that she had scarcely strength -to ascend the flight. She turned back to the room that served as -parlor, rejoicing to find it vacant. She sank down in one of the great -chairs before the fire, which was dull and slow this bland day; the -wood was green, the sap had risen and was slowly oozing out at the -ends of the logs and dripping down on the ash below. It had a dulcet -sibilance in the heat; it was like some far-off singing, which she -could hear but could not catch the melody. As she vaguely listened to -this elfin minstrelsy she wondered if Raymond would go without a word -of farewell,--she wondered if the expedition were of special danger. -She pressed her hands against her eyes to darken her vivid imaginings. -Oh, why should such risks be taken! She wondered if he would ever -return,--and then she wondered if her heart had ceased to beat with the -thought. - -Never, never had she imagined she could be so unhappy,--and here, where -she had so longed to come. She gazed about the room with its rude -construction metamorphosed by its barbaric decorations of feathers, and -strange weapons, and curious hangings of aboriginal weavings, and rugs, -and draperies of fur, and thought how often she had pictured the place -to her mind’s eye in England from her father’s letters, and how she -had rejoiced when her aunt had declared that now that the war was over -they would visit the commandant in his own fort. And what a tumult of -anxiety, and fear, and doubt, and desolation had whelmed her here!--and -would he go without a word? - -It seemed just and fitting that the sky should be overcast as the day -wore on,--that clouds should gather without as the light had failed -within. The air continued mild; the fire dully drooled; and when she -asked her father at the dinner-table if the expedition would set -forth if it should rain, he laughed with great gayety and told her -that frontier soldiers were very particular never to get their feet -wet--a not altogether felicitous joke, and indeed he was no great wit, -for Mrs. Annandale tartly demanded why if they were allowed to be so -particular were they not furnished with pattens. This Captain Howard -considered very funny indeed, seeing doubtless in his mental vision -the garrison of Fort Prince George thus accoutred; he laughed until -Arabella admonished him that he should not be so merry when perhaps he -was sending a score of men to a dreadful death at the hands of savages, -who were eager and thirsting for blood, in a wilderness so dense and -sombre and drear that she thought that Milton, or Dante, or anybody -who had sought to portray hell, might have found a new expression of -desolation in such mysterious, impenetrable, trackless forests. Then -truly he became grave. - -“Raymond’s mission is not one of aggression,” he said. “I have thrown -what safe-guards I could about him. I trust and I believe he will be -safe if he conducts properly.” - -“And what is his mission, sir?” asked Arabella. - -“Do you expect me to tell you that when he does not know it himself?” -said her father, laughing. “He is not to open his sealed instructions -till he reaches Choté, Old Town.” - -Arabella’s eyes were wide with dismayed wonder. To her this seemed -all the more terrible. To thrust one’s head into the lion’s jaws, -not knowing whether the beast is caged or free, ravenous or sated, -trained or wild. She said as much to Ensign Raymond himself, when after -candle-light he came in to pay his devoirs and take a formal farewell -of the household. He was in great spirits, flushed and hilarious--very -merry indeed when he found that Arabella was in much perturbation -because he, himself, was in the dark as to the tenor of his mission, -and would be one hundred and fifty miles distant in the heart of the -Cherokee country ere he discovered the nature of his duty. - -“Suppose it proves contrary to your own views and wishes,” Arabella -argued. - -“A soldier must have no views and wishes contrary to his duty,” he -laughed. - -“But suppose you find it is impossible!” - -“I have too much confidence in the commandant to believe he would set -me an impossible task.” - -“Oh, don’t be too sure of that,” interpolated Mrs. Annandale, who was -benign, almost affectionate in her manner toward him, now that she was -about to be rid of this handsome marplot, who did as much damage to her -darling scheme by the unholy influence his presence exerted on Mervyn’s -temper as by his own magnetic personality. “Poor dear Brother was -always a visionary.” - -Raymond burst out laughing at the idea of the commandant as a dreamer -of dreams. “I have such faith in whatever visions he may entertain as -to be certain they will materialize at Choté Great!” - -“Will you be sure to come back?” Arabella asked, as they stood at the -last moment near the table where the candles threw an upward glow on -his red coat, his laughing eyes, his handsome, spirited face, and his -powdered hair. He held his hat in his left hand and was extending his -right hand toward her. - -“Will you be sure to come back?” - -“Oh, my dear, don’t be so solemn,--your tones might summon a man from -the ends of the earth or a spirit from the confines of being!” cried -Mrs. Annandale. - -Once more Raymond’s joyous laughter rang through the room. “I shall -come alive if I can conveniently, and all in one piece. If not I shall -revisit the glimpses of the moon! I shall return--” and then in a more -serious tone, seeing her seriousness, “I shall return, God willing.” - -Mervyn himself entertained considerable doubt of this happy issue -of the expedition. He thought Raymond far too young, too flighty, -too inexperienced to be trusted at such a distance, unhampered by -authority, subject to strange untried conditions which could not -be foreseen and provided against. It was necessary that all the -details should be confided to his own unaided judgment, and it would -not have greatly astonished the captain-lieutenant if none of the -party should ever be seen again alive. In the dense jungles of the -mountain wilderness, in the power of an implacable, aggrieved, and -savage people, the fate of this handful of soldiers might ever remain -a mystery and unavenged. The thought softened his heart toward his -quondam friend. Mervyn was of the temperament rarely consciously at -fault; so little did he admit dereliction in his relations with the -outside world that he was often self-deceived. But in this instance his -conscience stirred. He realized that for his offended vanity, for an -unspoken fleer in a man’s eyes which his own coxcombry had provoked, he -had in revenge caught at an immaterial matter in the guard report and -contrived to wreak his displeasure on Raymond in a sort most calculated -to wound him, subjecting him to a reprimand, unwilling though it was, -from the commandant. After that event ensued an alienation as complete -as their friendship had formerly been close. At the time he winced to -discover that Raymond had the magnanimity to refrain from retorting in -kind, and had not held him up to ridicule in the commandant’s eyes by -gossiping on the expedition to Tamotlee of his unlucky absence from the -scene of the conflagration. To be sure, Raymond knew that fact would be -elicited in the regular channels of the reports, but he had not gone -out of his way to further his false friend’s mortification. Mervyn -wished now that he had been less morose, less intractable. He had, he -thought, no reason to be jealous of Raymond’s station in Arabella’s -esteem. He was a dashing, attractive, handsome man, well calculated to -entertain and amuse a young lady who was not used to spend her time in -so dull a place as a frontier fort. Mervyn had no serious fault to find -with the encouragement which she had vouchsafed his own suit. Therefore -why should he let the breach yawn and widen between himself and his -former friend. He did not linger in the commandant’s parlor after -Raymond had made his adieus, but followed him to his quarters, where he -found the ensign with his servant busily packing his effects for the -march. - -“Just as I expected,” said Mervyn, ignoring Raymond’s stare of -surprise, and perching himself on one end of the table as of old in the -scarcity of chairs; he carelessly eyed the confused medley of articles -spread over the bed, the chairs, the floor. “Making ready for the -march, are you? I came to see if you wouldn’t like to borrow my otter -fur great coat and my heavy lynx rug for the trip. There is a change in -the temperature impending,--freezing weather,--and you might need them.” - -Raymond hesitated. He would not wish to churlishly refuse an overture -for renewed friendship or, as he rightly interpreted this, a covert -apology. But he had that fibre of sensitiveness which winced from -a favor bestowed--not from one he loved; a month ago he would have -welcomed the offer, but more because of the feeling indicated than the -utility of the proffered gear, although doubtless the furs would have -stood him in good stead. Now, however, his estimate of Mervyn had -changed and his heart had waxed cold toward him. He said to himself -that he would be willing to risk the chance of freezing, if his own -provision were insufficient, rather than be beholden to Mervyn for -aught under the circumstances. - -“I am already taking as much weight as I can afford to carry,” he -replied. “And besides your furs are too costly and delicate to drag -through such a march as this,--thank you, just as much.” - -After some words of fruitless insistence Mervyn’s talk digressed to -details of ways and means. He was graciously disposed to supplement -the younger officer’s presumably inferior knowledge by his more -mature advice, a senior in rank, years, and experience. Unrestrained -by any subtle considerations of feeling on such a theme, Raymond did -not scruple to flout this unsolicited counsel with a frank abandon -which bespoke a self-confidence expanded to a prideful jubilance -by the importance of the mission with which he had been intrusted. -But this cavalier reception of the suggestions tendered him did not -impair Mervyn’s urbanity nor hinder the ostensible renewal of pleasant -relations, or rather the ignoring of the fact that such relations had -ever been interrupted. He offered his hand at parting with many good -wishes, and Raymond, whose quickened intuition had come to comprehend -his mental processes, was glad to see the door close upon his well-bred -dissimulation. - -“He does not want to feel at all uncomfortable in his conscience if -I should be unlucky enough to be scalped, or frozen, or devoured by -wolves, or lost in the wilderness,” he thought, with a bitter insight. - -And was this a seemly lover for Arabella Howard? He wondered how she -could tolerate the dissembler who was not even frank with himself. He -wondered how her father, an epitome of stout-hearted candor, her aunt, -the cleverest of keen-sighted women, would permit this sacrifice of -her. But there were inducements,--rank, fortune, station,--all powerful -to embellish ugly traits, to obliterate unworthy actions, to place the -most creditable construction on selfish sentiments. Raymond, however, -had not time to rail at Fate according to her perverse deserts, for the -hour was late, and his departure imminent. - -He was gone on the morrow by the time the garrison was fairly astir, -marching out of the gates as the bugle sounded the reveille. The day -broke clouded and drear; the wind veered to the north; the temperature -fell, and then ensued a long interval of suspense, of gray monotony. -The air became still; it was perceptibly warmer; the dense clouds hung -low and motionless; it was impossible to prognosticate the character -of the change when it should terminate the indefinite uncertainty. -Occasionally as the cheerless afternoon wore on, a vague brightening -over the landscape gave a delusive promise of fairer skies, and then -the sullen day lowered anew. The morrow brought no flattering augury. -Now and then Captain Howard, looking at the heavy clouds, portending -falling weather, meditated anxiously on the difficulties of the -expedition. The temperature was unusually uncertain considering the -season. He did not, however, expect a recurrence of cold weather, with -spring already astir in the warm earth. But with the fickleness of the -southern climate, on the third day after the departure of the little -force, a freeze set in at dawn, and as the temperature moderated toward -noon the threatened falling weather made good its menace in whirls of -snow-flakes. - -Captain Howard felt that he could not have been expected to foresee -these climatic changes, and least of all he anticipated snow, which, -most of all, he dreaded. The mission had already been unduly postponed, -and time pressed sorely. The emergency was urgent and this he did not -doubt, but with the complication of wintry storms in the wilderness he -began to seriously question the wisdom of his selection of the officer -to conduct the enterprise to a satisfactory conclusion. He wondered if -Raymond would have the prudence to turn about should the route prove -impracticable through the snowy tangled forests and across a score of -precipitous high mountains and retrace his way to Fort Prince George. - -He felt sure that at the first flurry betokening now in the trackless -mountain defiles either Mervyn or Jerrold would have ordered an -“About-face” movement. His heart misgave him as he reflected on -Raymond’s pertinacity. He knew in his secret soul that if ever he saw -the ensign again it would be after he had accomplished his mission to -Choté Great. - -“Will he really freeze himself and his twenty men first?” he asked -petulantly,--“or lose his way in the storm?” - -Mervyn, albeit somewhat anxious himself after the flakes had begun -to whirl, could but experience a little relish of the discomforts -of his superior, who had apparently passed him over without reason, -and had conferred a duty of difficulty and danger on a very young -officer, probably incapable of executing it with requisite discretion. -He had no inclination to stay and condole with the commandant before -the fire in the orderly room. Here Captain Howard sat and toasted -his spurs half the morning, having a mind himself to ride out on the -trail of the expedition, if its route could be ascertained. There was -the usual routine,--the reports of the orderly room, guard-mounting, -drill,--all the various tours of duty to be observed as rigorously as -if the fort held ten thousand men, instead of its complement of a scant -hundred. Mervyn went about these details with a military promptness and -efficiency and apparent content which commended him much to the morose -commandant, who wished a hundred times that day that he had Raymond -here and that Mervyn were in Raymond’s place, thirty miles away,--nay, -fifty by this time. - -“He will have those men off their feet,” muttered Captain Howard. -“He’ll race them through these drifts as if they were sunshine.” - -He looked out drearily at the snow now lying trodden and criss-crossed -in devious paths on the parade. It was untouched, unsullied on the -ramparts, where it had lodged in the clefts between the sharp points -of the stockade. It hung in massive drifts on the roofs of the -barracks, the guard-house near the gate, the block-houses; icicles -wrought by an arrested thaw depended from the tower, in which the -sentinel was fain to walk briskly to and fro, beating his breast the -while, although the relief came at close intervals. The flakes were -altogether hiding the contiguous woods, and it seemed that noon had -hardly passed before there were suggestions of dusk in the darkening -atmosphere, and nightfall was early at hand. - -“Wonder where he will bivouac, to-night?” the commandant suggested to -the group of officers in the mess-hall before the great fireplace that -half filled one side of the room, for they were all somewhat familiar -with the topography of the region through which Raymond would have to -pass and the names of the Cherokee towns. - -It was a cheerful scene indeed. The aroma of a skilfully compounded -punch pervaded it, and the great silver gilt bowl was genially disposed -on the nearest end of the long table, within easy access of the group -about the hearth. The fire roared joyously up the great cavernous -chimney and was brilliantly reflected from the glimmering steel of the -arms suspended on the walls,--trophies, curios, or merely decorations. -The wide-spread wings of the white swan and the scarlet flamingo -arranged above the wainscot in gorgeous alternations hardly now -suggested a mere fiction of flight; they seemed to move, to flutter -and flicker as the firelight fluctuated and the shadows danced. On a -smaller table there was the steady, chaste white focus of candle-light, -for the tapers were illumined in two tall candle-sticks, the cards -were cut for Loo, and the expectant faces of the officers showed in -the calm white gleam, with all the details of their red coats, their -white belts, their powdered hair. Only one of the officers was smoking, -an on-looker at the game, the quarter-master, but Captain Howard’s -snuff-box was repeatedly in his hands. - -They all noted his signs of anxiety and agitation, but there was not -an immediate response to his remark, for there could be no freedom of -speculation with a superior officer upon the untoward probabilities of -an enterprise which he had chosen to set on foot. The silence was the -less embarrassing because of the absorptions of the matter immediately -in hand, for the pool was being formed during the deal. But when the -trump was turned, and the players had “declared,” there was a momentary -pause of expectation, each relying on some tactful comment of the -other. Innis, the blond young ensign, looked demurely into the fire -and said nothing. Lieutenant Jerrold, having already glanced through -his hand and seeing “Pam” among the cards, thought it hard lines that -the commandant should not betake himself to his own quarters and cease -to interfere with the game. By way of promoting this consummation he -suggested fatuously:-- - -“Raymond will pick a spot near good water.” - -“Water!” screamed Captain Howard. “Gad, sir. _Pick_ a spot! Water! In -this weather he has nothing to do but to hold his fool mouth open. -_Water!_” - -The lieutenant’s unhappy precipitancy suggested the ambush of the -highest card, and his eagerness to utilize it, to the mind of another -player, Ensign Lawrence, who held the lead. He held also the ace of -trumps. - -At his sudden cry, “Be civil,--Pam, be civil,” Captain Howard started -from his preoccupation as if he had been shot, glancing from under his -bushy eye-brows at the table on which the young officer was banging -down the ace with great triumph. - -The cabalistic phrase was of course only designed to secure the -immunity of the ace from capture by “Pam,” but somehow its singular -aptness of rebuke and Captain Howard’s attitude of sensitive -expectation shook the poise of the board. Ensign Lawrence turned very -red, and only clumsily made shift to gather in the trick he had taken, -for “Pam,” of course, could not be played, his civility having been -bespoken, according to the rules of the game, and the holder following -suit. The other officers made an effort to conceal their embarrassment. -Bolt, the fort-adjutant, cleared his throat uneasily. The onlooking -quarter-master with the pipe began a sentence, paused, forgetting its -purport midway, and silence continued till Ensign Innis came hastily to -the rescue with a suggestion which he thought a masterly diversion. - -“I suppose it was an important matter which took Raymond to Choté in -such weather, sir?” - -Captain Howard withered him with a glance. - -“You have been long enough in the service, sir, to know better than to -ask questions,” he replied sternly. - -Then he rose and betook himself forth into the densely whirling snow, -repenting of his irascibility, calling himself a condemned spoil-sport, -and looking at the sky, which was all of a bleak blackness, as well as -the buffeting flakes would permit. He noted the blur of orange light -flaring out from barrack-windows and guard-house door, and guided -his route to his own quarters by the situation of these oases in the -surrounding desert of gloom. - -His opening door gave him to view a great gush of firelight and gleam -of candles; the room was perfumed with the sweet odors of the burning -hickory and pine and cedar in the wide chimney and embellished by the -presence of Arabella, whose grace made every place seem a parlor. Her -golden-hued shawl hung in silken folds from the back of an arm-chair -of the primitive frontier manufacture, and on the table lay her -embroidery-frame, whereon roses seemed to bud at her magic touch and -expand under the sunshine of her smiling hazel eyes. Her gown of canary -sarcenet had a black velvet girdle and many black velvet rosettes for -trimming, her golden hair gleamed in the rich glow of the fire, and in -her hand was her lute, graced by long streamers of crimson ribbon. - -Beside her was the captain-lieutenant, all bedight in the smartest of -uniforms, his hair in a long queue of blond plaits, and with precise -side-curls heavily powdered, a genteel fashion not always observed on -the frontier. - -She had been singing to him one of the songs that had become -fashionable at Vauxhall during his long absence from London, and the -air was still vibrant with the melody of voice and symphony. - -And poor Raymond!--Captain Howard’s inconsistent heart rebelled at the -sight of their comfort and mirth and security,--out in the snow, and -the black night, and the illimitable trackless wilderness on the march -to Choté. - -With the thought his anxiety and distrust of the subaltern’s discretion -were reasserted. - -“He will reach Choté if he has a man left! I only hope he won’t harry -the town!” he exclaimed in the extravagance of his disaffection. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - - -When Ensign Raymond encountered the snow-storm he was already advanced -some two days’ march on his mission to Choté Great, the “beloved town,” -the city of refuge of the whole Cherokee nation. The tempest came first -in a succession of capricious flurries; then the whole world seemed a -maelstrom of dizzily whirling flakes. The young officer and his force -pushed on with mettlesome disregard of its menace, although for days -it persistently fell. Afterward it drifted with the wind into great -mounds, it obscured the trail, hid the landmarks, set many a pitfall -in the deep chasms and over the thin ice of unsuspected watercourses -in narrow and steep ravines. Night brought hard freezes; the thaws of -the rising temperature at noonday were resolved into ice at dusk, and -the trees, ceasing to drip, were hung with icicles on every bough and -twig. The great pearly moon, now and again showing above the mountains -through gusty clouds, revealed strange endless forests glimmering with -crystalline coruscations, despite the obscurity, as if endowed with -some inherent source of light. The bivouac fires made scant impression -on these chill primeval environments; the flare on the ruddy faces of -the young soldiers, with their red coats and their snatches of song -and their simple joy in the contents of their unslung haversacks, paled -as it ventured out amidst the dense mysterious woods. The snowy vistas -would presently grow dim, and shadows thronged adown the perspective. -Before the ultimate obscurities were reached, the vanishing point, -certain alien green glimmers were often furtively visible,--a signal -for the swift replenishing of the fires and a renewed flaring of -the flames high into the air, with great showers of sparks and a -fierce crackling of boughs. For the number of wolves had hardly been -diminished by the Cherokee War with the British, so recently at an -end, although the easily affrighted deer and buffalo seemed for a time -to have fled the country. The predatory animals had doubtless found -their account in the slaughter of the battle-fields, and Raymond’s -chief anxiety at night was the maintenance of the vigilance of the -fire-guard, whose duty it was to feed the protective flames with fuel. -To drive off the beasts with musketry was esteemed a wanton waste of -powder, so precious was ammunition always on the frontier. Moreover, -the bellicose sound of British muskets was of invidious suggestion -in the land of the sullen and smarting Cherokees, so reluctantly -pacified, and recently re-embittered by the downfall of secret -cherished schemes of the assistance of the French to enable them to -regain their independence. Now the French were quitting the country. -Canada was ceded; the southern forts were to be evacuated. The “great -French father” had been overpowered and forced to leave them to their -fate, and their treaties with the British, half-hearted, compulsory, -flimsy of intention, were to be kept or broken at the peril of their -national existence. They resisted this conviction,--so high had been -their hopes. They had long believed that a confederation of the Indian -tribes under French commanders would drive the British colonies of -the south into the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. They had -grown heady with this expectation, and prophetically triumphant. They -were now desperate with the sudden dissolving of this possibility -forever,--vindictively inimical. - -There was an incident of the march which might have seemed to an older -man than Raymond far more menacing than the wolves that patrolled the -camp. Nightly there came visitors to his fire, which was a little -apart from the bivouac of the rank and file, as beseemed a commander’s -dignity. The soldiers were wont to gaze askance at the guests across -the intervening spaces, as the fire threw their long shadows upon the -snow. Feather-crested shadows they were, but never the same. Each -night certain chiefs from the town nearest the end of the day’s march -appeared out of the darkness with protestations of welcome to the -vicinity, and sat with the giddy young commander beside his fire and -talked with faces of grave import, for the smattering of the Cherokee -language that Raymond had picked up was such as might suffice for -casual conversation. The soldiers wondered and doubted as they watched, -for their lives hung on the discretion of this light-pated youth. They -were brave men enough and versed in Indian warfare, but acquainted -too with Indian treachery. The war was over, both with the French and -the Indian tribes, but that gratuitous sacrifice of life, the death of -the few occurring in the interval between the negotiation of a treaty -and the slowly pervading news of the consummation of peace, has a -peculiar horror for every soldier. They put their own heads together -around the fire and questioned much what could these men, holding aloof -all day, coming darkly, dubiously with the shadows, have in traffic -with their “Babby” Ensign,--what subject of earnest persuasion. The -lengthened discourse would be drawn out long after tattoo had sounded, -and when the soldiers, constrained to keep to fixed hours, lay around -the glowing coals like the spokes of a wheel, they still furtively -watched the figure of the gay young commander, erect, alert, very wide -awake in his dapper trim uniform, and his blanketed feather-tufted -visitors, their eager faces shown by the fitful flicker and flare of -the ensign’s fire. An icy bough would wave above them, and so chill was -the intervening atmosphere that the leaping flames wrought no change -in its glittering pendants. A star would frostily glint high, seen -through the snow-laden branches of the pine. Sometimes the clouds would -part and the pearly moon would cast a strange supernal lustre on the -scene,--the great solitary mountains on every side; the long vacant -snowy valleys glimpsed through some clifty defile; the shadowy skulking -figures of wolves, primeval denizens of the wilderness; the bivouac of -the soldiers; and these incongruously colloguing figures beside the -officer’s fire. - -The words of the visitors appeared destined to be in vain. For a head -which seemed so easily turned Ensign Raymond’s was curiously hard. - -Not go to Choté? They thought it not worth the while?--he would always -ask with a note of affected surprise, as if the subject had never -before been broached. - -For this was the gravamen of their arguments, their persuasion, their -insistence--that he should not go to Choté. - -Was there not Nequassee, on the hither side of the tumultuous Joree -mountains? The head-men of the Cherokee nation would delight to meet -him there and confer with him on whatever subject the splendid and -brave Captain Howard might desire to open with them by the mouth of his -chosen emissary, Ensign Raymond. - -It was diplomacy, certainly, but it jumped with Raymond’s adolescent -relish of tantalizing, to give them no intimation of the fact that he, -himself, had as yet no knowledge of the purpose of his embassy, his -instructions being to open his sealed orders at Choté. Thus he turned, -and evaded, and shifted ground, and betrayed naught, however craftily -they sought to surprise him into some revelation of his intent. - -Only to Choté he must go, he said. - -Two Indians who sat with him particularly late one night, head-men from -the neighboring town of Cowetchee, were peculiarly insistent,--first, -that he and his command should accept the hospitality of their -municipality, that he, himself, might lie in the comforts of their -“stranger house,” and then, since he could not so far depart from -his orders as to break up his camp--if he must repair to one of the -Overhill towns--how near was Talassee, just beyond a precipitous ridge -of the mountains, or Ioco, or Chilhowee, or Citico,--but not to Choté, -surely. So far,--nearly as far as Tellico Great! Not to Choté,--oh, no; -never so far as to Choté! - -“But to Choté,” said Ensign Raymond, “to Choté must I go.” - -They never looked at each other, these crafty sages of Cowetchee. -Only the suspicion bred of long experience could discern aught of -premeditation in their conduct of the interview. One conserved a -peculiarly simple expression. His countenance was broad, with high -cheek bones and a long flat mouth. He had a twinkling eye and a -disposition to gaze about the camp with a sort of repressed quizzical -banter, as if he found the arrangement of the troops and their -accoutrements, the dress and arms of the officer, the remnants of his -supper, the methods of its service, the china and silver, all savoring -strongly of the ludicrous and provocative of covert ridicule. He held -his head canted backward as he looked from half-closed lids, across -the shimmering heated air rising above the coals, into the young -man’s face, infinitely foreign to him. Youth is intensely averse to -the slightest intimation of ridicule, and Raymond, with his personal -pride, his impulsive temperament, his imperious exactingness, could -not have brooked it for one moment had he not early observed that each -demonstration was craftily designed to shake his equilibrium, and -preceded some cogent question, some wily effort to elicit a betrayal of -the purport of his mission to Choté, and only to the “beloved town.” -The other Indian was grave, suave, the typical chief, wearing his furs -and his feathers with an air of distinction, showing no surprise at his -surroundings, hardly a passing notice indeed. He was erect, dignified, -and walked with an easy light tread, different in every particular from -the jocose rolling gait affected by the Terrapin. - -The giddy Raymond began to pique himself on his capacity to meet these -emergencies which obviously Captain Howard had not anticipated. They -invested the expedition with a subtler difficulty than either had -dreamed he might encounter. He flushed with a sense of triumph, and his -bright eyes were softly alight as he gazed on the glowing coals. He -bethought himself with great relish how these adventures would garnish -his account of his trip, and having naught to do with its official -purpose might serve to regale the fireside group, where a golden-haired -girl might be pleased again to call him “prodigiously clever.” He was -suddenly reminded of the string of pearls around her bare white throat -which he had noticed at the commandant’s table, with the depressing -reflection that Captain Howard came of well-to-do people while he, -himself, had little but his commission and his pay, and that Mervyn -was rich,--rich in his own right,--and would eventually be a baronet. -For here were pearls around the savage throat of the Terrapin,--pearls -indeed of price. A single gem of his string were worth the whole of -Arabella Howard’s necklace. These were the fine fresh-water pearls -from the _Unio margaritiferus_ of the southern rivers, and they had -a satin-like lustre and rarely perfect shape, which bespeak a high -commercial value. The Terrapin wore strings of shell beads, which he -appraised more dearly,--the wampum, or “roanoke” as the southern tribes -called it,--and which fell in heavy fringes over his shirt of otter -fur. He had a collar of more than two hundred elk teeth; his leggings -were of buck-skin and solid masses of embroidery. As Ensign Raymond’s -well-bred observation, that sees all without seeming to notice aught, -took in these details, he began to have an idea of utilizing the visit -of the Indians in a method at variance with their weary marching and -counter-marching upon the citadel of his secret,--the purport of his -mission to Choté, Old Town. - -He meditated gravely on this, as he sat in his camp chair by the smooth -stump of a great tree, felled for fuel, on which had been laid his -supper, serving as table, and now holding the case-bottle of brandy, -the contents of which had been offered and sparingly accepted by the -Indians, for the chiefs were by no means the victims of fire-water in -the degree in which the tribesmen suffered. - -“Tus-ka-sah,” Raymond said suddenly, “tell me your real name. I know -you are never the ‘Terrapin.’” For an alias was reputed to be the -invariable rule of Indian nomenclature. The Cherokees were said to -believe that to divulge the veritable cognomen divested the possession -of the owner, destroyed his identity, and conferred a mysterious power -over him never to be shaken off. Thus they had also war names, official -names, and trivial sobriquets sufficing for identification, and these -only were communicated to the world at large, early travellers among -the tribe recording that they often questioned in vain. - -Tus-ka-sah’s real face showed for one moment, serious, astute, -suspicious, and a bit alarmed, so closely personal, so unexpected was -the question. Then he canted his head backward and looked out from -under heavy lowered lids. - -“La-a!” he mocked. He had caught the phrase from English settlers or -soldiers. “La-a!” he repeated derisively. Then he said in Cherokee, “If -I should tell you my name how could I have it again?” - -Raymond pondered a moment on this curious racial reasoning. “It would -still be yours. Only I should know it,” he argued. - -“La-a!” bleated Tus-ka-sah derisively, vouchsafing no further reply, -while the other Indian knitted his perplexed brow, wondering how from -this digression he could bring back the conversation to the trail to -Choté. - -“I know what your name ought to be,” declared Raymond. - -Once more a sudden alarm, a look of reality flickered through the -manufactured expressions of the Terrapin’s face, as if the ensign -might absolutely capture his intimate identity in his true name. Then -realizing the futility of divination he said “La-a!” once more, and -thrust out his tongue facetiously. Yet his eyes continued serious. -Like the rest of the world, he was to himself an object of paramount -interest, and he experienced a corrosive curiosity as to what this -British officer--to him a creature of queer, egregious mental -processes--thought his name ought to be. - -“It ought to be something strange and wonderful,” said Raymond, -speciously. “It ought to be the ‘Jewel King’--or,” remembering -the holophrastic methods of Indian nomenclature--“this would be -better--‘He-who-walks-bedizened.’” - -The eyes of the Indian had no longer that predominant suffusion of -ridicule. They were large, lustrous, and frankly delighted. - -“_Agwa duhiyu! Agwa duhiyu!_” (I am very handsome), he exclaimed -apparently involuntarily. He glanced down complacently over his -raiment of aboriginal splendor, passing his hand over his collar of -elk teeth and tinkling his many strings of shell beads, but it was -only casually that he touched his necklace of pearls. The gesture -gave Raymond an intimation as to the degree in which were valued the -respective ornaments. It reinforced his hope that perhaps the pearls -might be purchased for a sum within the scope of his slender purse. -How they would grace the hair of the fair Arabella, her snowy neck or -arm. To be sure, he could not presume to offer them were they bought -in a jeweller’s shop in London. But as a trophy from the wilderness, -curiously pierced by the heated copper spindle, by means of which -they were strung on the sinews of deer, the price a mere pittance as -for a thing of trifling worth,--surely Captain Howard would perceive -no presumption in such a gift, the young lady herself could take no -offence. Nevertheless, the pearls were rarely worth giving in a sort he -could not hope to compass otherwise, nor indeed she to own, for, but -for the method of piercing, rated by European standards their size and -lustre would have commanded a commensurate price. - -“I should like to buy a jewel from the great chief, -‘He-who-walks-bedizened,’” said Raymond, his cheek flushed, his ardent -eyes afire. “There would be a peculiar interest to tell abroad that -this was the necklace of the ‘Jewel King.’” - -The Fox flashed an aggrieved and upbraiding glance upon the Terrapin. -Had they come hither to chaffer indeed of beads, when the trail to -Choté lay open, and by the utmost arts the sages of all the towns could -not thence divert this wayward soldier? - -“How much?” demanded “He-who-walks-bedizened.” - -He pursed up his lips, canted his head backward, and set his eyes -a-twinkle under their lowered lids. - -Raymond’s heart beat fast. He had all the sensitive pride of a poor -man, highly placed socially. He would not for all the world have -offered her the trifling personal ornament within his means,--such a -compliment as Mervyn might well have paid. He tingled with jubilance -at the thought of an actual munificence, which her father could not -appropriately forbid her to accept because it was an aboriginal curio, -costing so disproportionately to its beauty and value. - -He laid a guinea on the table. - -“La-a!” bleated the Terrapin, in the extremity of scorn. - -Another guinea, and still another, and yet the Indian shook his head. -The Fox, albeit his eyes gloated upon the gold, as if it appealed to an -appetite independent of his individuality, growled out an undertone of -remonstrance which the Terrapin heeded no more than if he had not heard. - -Money slips fast through the fingers of a poor man of good station, but -Raymond was schooled to a modicum of prudence by the urgency of his -desire to possess the gems. Realizing that the demands of Tus-ka-sah -would be limited only by his supposed capacity to pay and his -willingness to part with his gold, he called a halt lest these, being -over-estimated, frustrate the project that had become insistently, -eagerly precious to him. - -“Let the great chief name the price of his necklace,” he suggested a -trifle timorously, fearing a sum beyond the possibility of his wildest -extravagance. - -The eyes of both the Indians followed the gold pieces, as he swept them -from the table and into his purse, with a glitter of greed akin to the -look of a dog who gazes at a bone for which he is too well trained -to beg. Then Tus-ka-sah, with a slow and circumspect motion, took the -pearls from his neck and spoke with a deliberate dignity. - -“When you return to your own country call all your people -together,”--Raymond hardly smiled at this evidence of the Indian’s -idea of the population of England, so heartily were his own feelings -enlisted in the acquisition,--“tell them this is the necklace of the -‘Jewel King,’ ‘He-who-walks-bedizened.’ Then name to them the pearls, -for they have true names,--these, the smaller of the string, are the -little fish that swim in the river, and these are the birds that fly -in the clouds. These twelve large ones are the twelve months of the -year,--this, the first, is the green corn moon; this is the moon of -melons; this the harvest moon; this the moon of the hunter.” As he told -them off one by one, and as Raymond leaned forward listening like a -three years’ child, his cheek scarlet, his dark eyes aglow, the wind -whisking the powder off his auburn hair despite his cocked hat, the Fox -watched the two with indignant impatience. - -If the Terrapin observed the officer’s eagerness he made no sign,--he -only said suddenly:-- - -“And _all_ are yours--if--you go not to Choté.” - -The young officer recoiled abruptly--in disappointment, in -mortification, in anger. - -He could not speak for a moment, so sudden was the revulsion of -sentiment. Then he said coldly, “You trifle with me, Tus-ka-sah!” - -He checked more candid speech. For prudential reasons he could not give -his anger rein. Harmony must be maintained. If cordial relations were -not conserved it should not be the ambassador of a friendly mission to -break the peace. - -The Cherokees were as eager as he to let slip no chance. The Fox, -understanding at last the trend of his colleague’s diplomacy, uttered -guttural soothing exclamations. But Tus-ka-sah, perceiving the -reluctance of the officer’s relinquishment of the opportunity, the -eagerness of his desire, his angry disappointment, sought to whet his -inclination and made a higher bid. He took from some pocket or fold of -his fur garments a buck-skin bag and thence drew a single unpierced -pearl, so luminous, so large, so satin-smooth, so perfect of contour, -that Raymond, forgetting his indignation at the attempted bribery, -exclaimed aloud in inarticulate delight, for this indeed was a gem -which those who love such things might well fall down and worship. - -It came from the Tennessee River. Tus-ka-sah made haste to recite its -history to slacken the tension of the difference which had supervened. - -The jewel king of the mussels, he said, had worn it on his breast; -but when his shell, which was his house, was harried and his people -scattered, and he torn ruthlessly out, this treasure fell as spoils to -the victor. Only its custodian was Tus-ka-sah--this gem belonged to the -Cherokee nation--one of the jewels of the crown, so to speak. And it -too had a name, the “sleeping sun.” The chief paused to point from the -moony lustre of the great pearl, shown by the light of the fire, to the -pearly lustre of the moon, now unclouded and splendid in the dark vault -of the deep blue sky. - -“The ‘sleeping sun’!” Raymond exclaimed entranced, remembering Arabella -Howard’s joy in the fancy, and thinking how the unique splendor of this -single pearl would befit her grace. - -He had a prophetic intimation of the proffer even before it came. - -“Since you scorn my necklace,” Tus-ka-sah said in Cherokee, -“this--this--the nation will give you if you go not to Choté, beloved -town.” - -Raymond had never dreamed that his loyalty could be tempted by any -treasure. He did not pique himself on his fidelity. It was too nearly -the essence of his individuality, the breath of his life. An honest -man cannot levy tribute for his integrity--he feels it a matter of -course, impossible to be otherwise. Raymond was dismayed to find his -distended eyes still fixed upon the gem,--they had a gloat of longing -that did not escape the keen observation of the chiefs. For this was -unique. This was a gift no other could bestow,--it was indeed fit for a -princess. - -He experienced a vague internal revolt against the authority of his -superior officer. Why did the instructions specify Choté? Any mission -to the head-men could be as effectively discharged at any of the -seven great “mother-towns.” As to the aversion of the chiefs to his -appearance in the “beloved town,” this was doubtless some vagary of -their strange savage religion against the errors of which it was -puerile and futile to contend. If they esteemed his presence at Choté -a profanation of the “ever-sacred” soil, why persist in intruding -logic upon their superstition--especially since compliance would be so -richly rewarded? Moreover, there were practical considerations in their -favor. Choté was yet distant half a hundred miles, perhaps,--a weary -march in this frozen wilderness for the already exhausted detachment. -Though seasoned to Indian warfare, they were new to the topography of -this particular region. Hard at hand was the lesser town of Little -Choté--thus even the casual talk of the troops could not betray him. -Captain Howard need never know that he had not penetrated to Choté -Great, “the beloved city.” He could open here his sealed orders, -accomplish every detail of his mission, he thought, and yet secure the -rich guerdon of his compliance with so simple a request. - -Raymond rose suddenly to his feet, trembling in every limb. -Tempted--tempted thus by a bauble! Barter his honor for the lustres of -the “sleeping sun”! His face was scarlet. His eyes flashed. His lip -quivered. - -“I am a poor man, Tus-ka-sah,” he said, “and stop me, my heart grows -very heavy for the sake of the ‘sleeping sun.’ I would give gold for -it, to the extent of my power. Gad, I would willingly be poorer still -for its sake. But you cannot bargain with me for my duty as a soldier. -Go to Choté, says my superior, and to Choté I go.” - -He could hardly understand the deep disappointment expressed in the -faces of the Indians who consciously were trembling on the verge -of the accomplishment of their secret design. Tus-ka-sah first -recovered himself with a fleer at the confession of poverty, so -characteristically scorned by the Indians. “_Poor!_ La-a! _Poor!_” He -stuck his head askew with an affronting leer that made his grimace as -insulting as a blow. “For no poor man!” he added, bundling up his great -pearl into its buck-skin bag, with the air of indignantly terminating -the interview, as if he had received the proffer of a sum beneath -contempt for his valuable jewel. - -Whether or not he would have devised some return to the negotiation, -a sudden accident definitely terminated it. At last the great flare -of the fire, the ascending column of heated air, began to affect the -snow congealed upon the boughs of the pine above their heads. The -thawing of a branch effected the dislodgment of a great drift that it -had supported in a crotch. The snow fell into the fire with a hissing -noise, and in one moment all was charred cinders and hot mounting -steam where once were red-hot coals and the flash of flames. Raymond -called out a warning to the fire-guard, who were presently kindling the -protective blaze at a little distance, and as his servant, roused from -sleep, began to shift his effects thither from the despoiled site of -his camp, he sat on the edge of the stump, listening to the growling of -the wolves which, encouraged by the obscurity, were now dangerously -near. He had not marked when nor how the two Indians had disappeared, -but they were gone in the confusion, and on the morrow he resumed his -march. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - - -In the meantime the days dragged slowly by at Fort Prince George. The -snow lay on the ground with that persistence which the weather-wise -interpret as a waiting for another fall. All out-of-door diversions -were interdicted. Sleighing was not to be essayed, for it was -considered unsafe to venture beyond the range of the guns. There was -no ice for curling. Save for the boisterous sport of the rank and file -hurling snow-balls at each other about the parade, when the fall was -fresh and the novelty an appeal to idleness, the storm had brought none -of its characteristic pastimes. - -There was a rumor heard in Keowee Town of a blockade higher up in -the mountains, where the fall had been of unprecedented depth. It -became bruited abroad somehow,--not that aught had been disclosed -of the fact,--perhaps by subtle intuition, perhaps only because the -circumstances warranted the surmise, that Captain Howard was extremely -uneasy as to the progress and fate of Ensign Raymond and his soldiers. -Now and again an Indian straggling from some party out on “the winter -hunt” came in at Fort Prince George with a story of having met the -detachment in the wilderness. He would be eagerly welcomed by Captain -Howard, regaled with French brandy and roast beef to loosen his -tongue, the fraud discovered only when too late, the man’s description -of the personnel of the force, elicited under keen inquisition, failing -to tally with the facts in a single particular. It was impossible for -Captain Howard to set his mind at ease in the assurance that all were -well and progressing finely, when the commander was described as a -beautiful old man in buck-skin with a long white beard, or a squat -fat man with a big stomach, and a red face, and a splendid bag-wig. -The fumes of the brandy and the beef penetrated far beyond the gates -of Fort Prince George, for rumor diffused and extended the aroma, and -Indian idlers made their racial craft and tact serve the simple purpose -of refreshing their inner man at the government’s expense by the simple -expedient of professing to have seen Ensign Raymond in the mountains -commanding Captain Howard’s soldiers. So anxious for news did he become -that he seemed to have lost his normal suspicion, and on each occasion -he returned to his hope of trustworthy information with an eager -precipitancy that made him an easy prey. - -Mervyn watched with cynical secret amusement this exhibition of -vacillating character, as he deemed it. Why had Captain Howard -despatched the detachment if he straightway wanted it back again, -he demanded of himself. He was fond of observing from an outside -standpoint the perplexity and the floundering mistakes of other men, -especially his superiors in military rank, with the inner conviction -how much more efficiently he could have discharged his obligations -and disposed of the matter were he in their position. It was perhaps -because of mental exercitations of this nature that he did not respond -with the genial endorsement of the commandant’s course which Captain -Howard obviously expected and coveted, when he said one evening as they -sat in the parlor before the fire, after dinner, entirely apropos of -nothing:-- - -“This snow-storm, now--I couldn’t possibly have foreseen this.” - -He lifted his eyes, his bushy brows bent, and fixed them on Mervyn’s -face interrogatively, yet with a certain challenge of denial. - -“Well, sir,” Mervyn hesitated, primly, judicially, “_I_ have never -thought the backbone of the winter broken as yet.” - -“Gad, sir--why didn’t you say so?” snapped Captain Howard. “If you -are such a weather-prophet as to have foreseen a fall of twenty-six -inches,--a thing never heard of before in this region,--why didn’t you -give me the benefit of your wisdom?” - -“Oh, sir,” said Mervyn, and there was rebuke even in his temperate -voice, and his expression was calmly disclaiming, “I did not foresee -the depth of the fall, of course. And it would ill become me to offer -advice to an officer of your experience. I only thought the winter not -fairly ended.” - -Despite the chill in the outer air, the flowers seemed blooming in -royal profusion in Arabella’s tambour-frame. She was constantly busy -with the particolored skeins in these dark days, scarcely ever lifting -her eyes as she listened. Now she sat close to the table for the sake -of the light from the candles in the two tall candle-sticks. She had -paused to thread her needle, and glanced up. - -“The snow, papa, is out of all reasonable expectation--both as to -season and depth. You must know that. You couldn’t doubt it, except -for your over-anxious sense of responsibility for the safety of the -expedition. Lord, sir, nobody ever heard, as you say, of such a snow.” - -“That’s no comfort to me,” said Captain Howard, visibly comforted, -nevertheless. - -Mervyn, roused from the soft conceits of superiority, sought to follow -her lead. - -“I think, since you permit me to express my opinion, sir, that the -detachment is in far less danger from the inclemency of the weather -than from Ensign Raymond’s inexperience. A judicious officer would -have faced about at once and returned to the fort before he could be -blockaded, with the drifts filling the mountain defiles. I should, I am -sure.” - -“And a very damn fool you would have been!” exclaimed Captain Howard, -testily. - -“Dear Brother! In _Arabella’s presence_!” Mrs. Annandale admonished -him, as she sat in her big arm-chair, busy with her knotting, which -she dextrously accomplished without other illumination than the light -of the fire, which was reflected from the jewels on her slender -twinkling fingers and flashed back from the glittering beads of her -gorgeous knotting-bag. She deprecated this caustic discourtesy to -Captain-Lieutenant Mervyn. - -“I am not afraid Arabella will learn to swear, and I don’t see any -other harm that anything I say can do to her,” retorted Captain Howard. -He was even less pleased with the suggestion that the man to whom -he had entrusted the lives of twenty of his soldiers was an unwise -selection, than that, if he had had more prudential forethought, he -might have divined the coming of the obstructive tempest. - -Mervyn was rather more stiffly erect than usual, and his long pale -face had flushed to the roots of his powdered hair. It was most -obvious, despite his calm, contained manner that he considered himself -needlessly affronted. “But like father, like daughter,” Mrs. Annandale -reflected, when Arabella, without the scantiest notice of his aspect, -once more joined in the discussion. - -“Now that is just how I think you show your knowledge of men and -opportunities, papa,” she remarked. “A more experienced officer than -Mr. Raymond--Mr. Mervyn, for instance--would have turned back and lost -your opportunity, who knows for how long, and the men would have been -so demoralized by relinquishing the march for a snow-storm that they -might not have made their way back even to Fort Prince George--remember -how sudden it was, and how soon those nearest defiles were full of -drifts. A man can be snowed under in twenty miles of forest as easily -as in a hundred. But a young, ardent, dreadnaught like Mr. Raymond will -push the men through by the sheer impetus of his own character. His -buoyant spirit will make the march a lark for the whole command.” - -Mervyn’s eyes widened as he listened in stultified surprise. He -was amazed at his lady-love’s temerity, to thus suggest Raymond’s -superiority to him in aught. He sought to meet her eye with a gaze of -dignified reproof. But she was evidently not thinking of him. In truth, -Arabella’s heart was soft with sympathy for the commandant, yearning -after his twenty odd hardened, harum-scarum young soldiers, as if they -were the babes in the wood. He was afraid he had unduly exposed them to -danger, and in the thought no woman could have been more troubled and -tender,--in fact, for such a cause his sister could never have been so -softened, so hysterically anxious. - -“You are right, Arabella; Raymond has something better than caution or -judgment. He is pertinacious and insistent, carries things before him, -won’t take no for an answer--he is a very good fighting man, too.” - -“But his lack of experience, sir,” Mervyn interpolated with lifted -eye-brows, “the very rank and file comment on it. They call him ‘the -hinfant,’ and ‘the babby ensign’!” - -Captain Howard flushed scarlet. - -“They are mighty careful that it doesn’t reach his ears,” he said, -sternly. “Ensign Raymond knows how to maintain his dignity as well as -any man twice his age I ever saw.” - -“Oh, papa, he does!” cried Arabella, eagerly corroborative. “I often -notice when he is serious how noble and thoughtful he looks.” - -Mrs. Annandale was not near enough to give her niece a warning pinch; -from such admonitions against girlish candor Miss Howard’s delicate arm -sometimes showed blue tokens. Like Mervyn, but with a different intent, -the schemer tried to catch the young lady’s eye. Now she felt she could -no longer contain her displeasure, and her anxiety lest the matter go -further than prudence might warrant impaired her judgment. - -“Dear me, Arabella,” she said, with an icy inflection, “one would think -you are in love with the man.” - -The obvious response for any girl was, in her opinion, a confused -denial, and this necessity would warn Arabella how far in the heat of -argument she was going. - -To Mrs. Annandale’s astonishment Arabella softly laid the tambour-frame -on her knee as if better to contemplate the suggestion. She held the -needle motionless for an instant, her eyes on the fire, and suddenly -she said as if to herself:-- - -“Sometimes I, too, think I am in love with him.” - -Mervyn shot a furious glance at her, but she had hardly looked at him -all the evening, and she now continued blandly unaware. If Captain -Howard marked what she had said it must have seemed a jest, for he went -on, magnifying Raymond’s capacity to take care of himself and to bring -his detachment safely home. - -Despite these arguments Captain Howard continued ill at ease, watchful -of the weather, anticipating a renewal of snow or hopeful of tokens -of thaw; eager to confer with any stray Indian, who Mervyn believed -often came from no greater distance than the town of Keowee across -the river; comparing reminiscences of distances and the situation -of sundry notable Indian towns with veterans of the two campaigns -during the previous years in the Cherokee country. In addition to the -information of some of the garrison on this point, he was able to glean -items from the very intimate knowledge of all that region possessed -by the Reverend Mr. Morton, now contentedly installed at Fort Prince -George, and holding forth at close intervals for the soul’s health of -the soldiery. But even he had a thrust for the tender sensibilities of -Captain Howard’s military conscience. - -“Ensign Raymond,” he said, apropos of the mooted safe return of the -expeditionary force, “is of a very impetuous and imperious nature. God -grant that he be not hurried into any untoward and reckless course. We -can but pray for him, sir.” - -“Gad! I ought to have prayed beforehand,” exclaimed the commandant. - -“And that is very true,” said the missionary. - -But Captain Howard had not intended to be entrapped into confession, -and he found Mr. Morton cheerless company in these days of suspense. -For it was his faithful belief that a proper disposition of forces -and munitions of war is calculated to induce Providence to fight on -one’s side and an omission of these rules and precautions is wilful -neglect of means of grace. He saw little of the minister in these days, -but Mrs. Annandale professed herself vastly edified by the good man’s -discourse, and kept him in conversation on one side of the fireplace -while the two young people were ranged upon the other. Even the old -man, inattentive to such matters, fell under the impression that the -young lady and her cavalier seemed not a little disposed to bicker, -and one evening when their voices were raised in spirited retort and -counter-retort, Mrs. Annandale took occasion to say to him behind the -waving feathers of her fan, that they were betrothed, and that their -lovers’ quarrels wearied her out of all patience. - -He inclined his head with its straggling wig, which Rolloweh, with -courteous compliments, had punctiliously sent down from Little -Tamotlee; in its shabby similitude to the furnishings of humanity it -had the look of being of low spirits and maltreated, and as if in its -natural estate it might have been the hair of some poor relation. Mr. -Morton observed that he hoped the young people were fully aware of the -transitory nature of earthly bliss. - -“Oh, they know that fast enough--their snappings and snarlings are -a proof of its transitory nature, if they had no other,” said Mrs. -Annandale, sourly. - -For Mervyn was not disposed to pass by, without an explanation, -Arabella’s statement that she sometimes thought she was in love with -Raymond. - -“He is a presuming puppy!” declared Mervyn, angrily, breathlessly, -looking at her with indignant eyes. - -“I can’t see in what respect he presumes,” she stipulated. “He has -never said a word of love to me.” - -“But you said--” - -“Only that I sometimes thought I was in love with him.” - -“You want to tantalize me--to make me miserable. For my life I can’t -see why.” - -He fared better when he appealed only to her generosity, for she -realized that in his way he loved her. She had begun to realize that -she did not, that she had never loved him, and was prone to remind him -that she had always stipulated that he must consider nothing settled. - -“She only wants to feel her power,” Mrs. Annandale had reassured him. - -“They tell me these Indians are cannibals on occasion,” she said to -herself, for there had come to be no one in whom she could really -confide. “I wish they would eat Raymond--he would doubtless prove a -spicy morsel--and I really don’t see any other means to dispose of him -out of harm’s way.” - -Mervyn found a melancholy satisfaction in the enforced silence, when -he could not upbraid nor Arabella retort, as they sat side by side -on the dreary snowy Sundays in the mess-hall, where the garrison -attended divine service. A drum mounted upon the table reached the -proper height of a prayer desk, and all the benches and settees in -the barracks, guard-house, and officers’ quarters were laid under -requisition to furnish forth sittings for the force. Captain Howard -was duly wakeful during the long and labored homily, although he felt -in his secret soul that the most acceptable portion of the service -was concluded when Arabella’s voice, soaring high above the soldiers’ -chorus, had ceased to resound, sweet and indescribably clear, and -sunk into silence. Mervyn found the psalms for the day for her, and -they read and sang from the same book. She wore, in deference to the -character of the occasion, her formal church attire, and he was reduced -to further abysses of subjection by the sight of her lovely face and -head, unfamiliar, and yet the same, in such a bonnet as should have -graced her attendance at the parish church at home. A white beaver of -the poke or coal-scuttle form framed her golden hair, and accented -the flush in her cheeks and the warm whiteness of brow and chin. Her -ermine muff and tippet were inconceivably reminiscent of home and -church-going. Her long black velvet pelisse gave her an air of rich -attire which enhanced her beauty and elegance with the idea of rank and -wealth which it was to be his good fortune to bestow on her. Never had -she been so beautiful as with that look of staid decorum, of solemnity -and reverence. Captain Howard might well have enjoyed his regular -Sabbatical nap--her attention was so sedulous it might have sufficed -for all the family. But he was noting the manners of the garrison, -and as they were conscious of the commandant’s eye naught could have -been more seemly. Jerrold, and Innis, and Lawrence, themselves, were -not more reverential than Robin Dorn, who raised the tune of psalm and -hymn to the correct pitch with a tuning fork, then piped away with a -high tenor, now and again essaying with good measure of success a clear -falsetto. The non-professional tenors held to the normal register, the -basses boomed after their kind, and above all, it might seem an echo -from heaven, the clear soprano voice. The big fire flashed, hardly so -red as the mass of red coats in the restricted limits of one room, -ample though its size, and its decorations of red and white feathers, -of grotesque paintings on buffalo hides, of flashing steel arms and -gaudy bows and quivers, all glimmered, and gleamed, and flickered, and -faded as the flames rose and fell. - -And the homily--it was not likely that the congregation knew much about -the significance of the Pentateuchal types and analogies, but if the -idea of such crass ignorance could have occurred to Mr. Morton, he -would have said it was time they were finding out somewhat. Perhaps as -he drew near his sixthly division and began to illustrate a similarity -of the religious customs of the Jews and Indians, they may have pricked -up their ears, and still more when he deduced an analogy between the -cruelty of the temper of the ancient Hebrews toward their enemies and -the torture practised by the modern Indian. He cautioned his hearers on -the danger of prying into the religious ceremonies of the Cherokees as -if his audience shared the pious fervor which consumed him, but said he -did not despair of using these similarities as an introduction of the -Christian religion, of which they were a forerunner and type. Then he -talked of the legends of the lost tribes, till Captain Howard felt that -it would be a piety to fall on his own sword like the military heroes -of Scripture, world-weary. At last he ended with:-- - -“‘Woe--woe is me if I preach not the Gospel!’” - -“And--woe--woe, surely, is thy hearer!” Mrs. Annandale mimicked below -her breath, as hanging on her brother’s arm she walked decorously -across the snowy parade to the commandant’s quarters. Mervyn and -Arabella followed in silence, the young man’s thoughts on the ivy-clad -church of Chesley Parish, and the walk thence through the lush greenth -of the park to Mervyn Hall, with this same fair hand laid lightly on -his arm. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - - -Ensign Raymond was no polemic nor versed in the Hebraic analogies rife -at that day among those who ascribed a Semitic origin to the American -Indian and sought to recognize in them the “lost tribes of Israel.” -When at last he set foot on the “ever-sacred” soil of the city of -refuge and opened his sealed orders, it was less a resemblance to -ancient Jewish customs that appealed to him than an appreciation of the -prudence of his commander in choosing this site for the delivery of his -mission. For he had that to say to the head-men of the Cherokee nation -which elsewhere might cost him his life. Here, however, at the horns -of the altar, had he, himself, been the shedder of blood, he was safe. -Here his blood could not be shed. He was under the shadow of the “wings -of peace.” The “infinitely holy” environment protected him and his. - -When he drew up his command and addressed the soldiers, ordering them -on no account to venture beyond the limits of the “beloved town,” the -amazement and flouting ridicule on their florid Irish and Cockney faces -marked the difficulty which the ordinary mind experiences in seeking to -assimilate the theories of eld. With the heady severity characteristic -of a very young officer, he replied to the nettling surprise and -negation in their facial expression. - -“It may sound like a fool notion to you, but you must remember that you -are only a pack of zanies, and don’t know a condemned thing but the -goose-step. They had this same sort of immunity ’way back in the Bible -times,”--he was himself a trifle vague,--“cities of refuge, where, in -the case of involuntary manslaughter, the slayer might find protection, -and in this ‘old peaceable town’ of Choté no hurt may be done even to a -wilful man-slayer, no blood may be shed here,--now, do you understand?” - -The heads were all erect; the position was the regulation “attention” -with “eyes front,” but so round were these eyes with amazement that -“the greasy red-sticks” had aught similar to customs “’way back in -the Bible times,” that the caustic young commander was moved to add: -“You are a set of heathen, too, or you would have learned all that -long ago,--about holding to the horns of the altar, as an effective -defensive measure. Anyhow,” he summed up, “if you choose to go off the -‘sacred soil’ and get yourselves slaughtered, you cannot say that you -have not been fairly warned. You will disobey orders, you will be put -under full stoppage of pay, and--_your_ bones will not be buried.” - -The parade was dismissed and they marched away, much marvelling at his -strange discourse. - -The allusion to their bones remained rankling in his mind. For there -was a fence of human bones at Choté, very grievous for a British -soldier to look upon,--a trophy, a triumphal relic, of the massacre -of the British garrison of Fort Loudon after its capitulation. It -had been difficult for Raymond to control the righteous wrath of his -soldiers in the presence of this ghastly mockery,--notwithstanding -their scanty number and the realization that any demonstration would be -but the sacrifice of their own lives the moment they should quit the -soil of immunity. The assurance of their commander that he would report -the indignity to the government, when doubtless some action would be -taken, was necessary to avert disastrous consequences. - -Raymond, himself, had great ado to contend with the storm of anger -a-surge within his own breast when the Cherokees ceremoniously received -him, beating the drums of the late Captain Demeré, who had marched out -of Fort Loudon with the full honors of war, with flags and music and -their assurance of safeguard. - -“This is not well,” Raymond could not refrain from saying, as he stood -in the centre of the “beloved square” in the midst of the town, with -the head-men, splendidly arrayed in their barbaric fashion, gathered to -greet him. “The articles of capitulation reserved to Captain Demeré the -colors, drums, and arms of the garrison--he had the solemn assurance -of the Cherokee nation,--and--” Raymond was very young; his face -turned scarlet, the tears stood in his eyes, he caught his breath with -something very like a sob, “the remains of that honorable soldier are -entitled to Christian burial.” - -He was sorry a moment later that he had said aught. The Indians’ -obvious relish of his distress was so keen. They replied -diplomatically, however, that all this had happened long ago, nearly -three years, in fact, and that if they had done aught amiss, the -British government had amply avenged the misdeed in the distressful -wars it had waged against the Cherokee nation, that had indeed been -reduced to the extremity of humiliation. - -Raymond, breathing a sigh of solace, was accepting this logic with the -docile rudimentary reasoning of youth, when one of the chiefs, with a -countenance at once singularly fierce and acute, the great Oconostota, -added blandly that he, himself, had known Captain Demeré with something -of intimacy and desired to withhold naught of advantage from him. If -Ensign Raymond was sufficiently acquainted with his bones to select -them from out the fence, he would be privileged to remove them. But -this applied to none of the other bones, for the consent of other -warriors controlled the remainder of the structure. - -When he paused a ripple of mirth, like a sudden flash of lightning on a -dull cloud, appeared on the feather-crested faces and disappeared in an -instant. They all stolidly eyed Raymond, standing with his hand on his -sword, his heart swelling as he realized the fleer with the ludicrous -ghastliness of the dilemma it presented. Then it was that Raymond -showed the soldier. The cub, despite its immaturity, has all the -inherent mettle of the lion. His eyes still flashed, his cheek glowed, -his voice shook, but he replied with a suavity, which was itself a -menace, that being only a subaltern he did not feel authorized to take -the initiative in so serious a matter, but that he would report the -offer to Captain Howard, commanding at Fort Prince George, with whom -Oconostota was also acquainted, and with, he believed, some degree of -intimacy. - -That the Indians were adepts in every art of propitiation was amply -manifest in the urbanities that Raymond enjoyed after this apt -suggestion, and if aught could have obliterated its provocation -from his mind, this would have been compassed by the courtesies -and attentions showered upon him and his men during the days that -intervened between his arrival and the time when etiquette permitted -the business of his mission to be opened. - -Raymond seemed to have brought the spring to Choté, that lovely vernal -expectation which holds a charm hardly to be surpassed by the richness -of fulfilment. Soft languors were in the air, infinitely luxurious. A -large leisure seemed to pervade the world. The trees budded slowly, -slowly. At a distance the forests had similitudes of leaflets, but as -yet the buds did not expand. It was evident that the grass was freshly -springing, for deer were visible all a-graze on the opposite banks -of the Tennessee River. Far away the booming note of buffalo came to -the ear, and again was only a soft silence. A silver haze hung in the -ravines and chasms of the mountains, austere, dark, leafless, close -at hand but in the distance wearing a delicate azure that might have -befitted a summer-tide scene. - -After the long, toilsome, wintry march Raymond found a sort of luxury -in this interval of rest, despite the unaccustomed barbaric manners of -his hosts. He sought to make due allowance for the differing standards -of civilization, but there was much that was irksome notwithstanding -the utmost endeavors of his entertainers to win his favor. From -morning to night he was attended by an obsequious young warrior called -“Wolf-with-two-feet” with half a dozen braves who tried to anticipate -his every wish, and when he was relegated to his repose at night in the -“stranger house,” a guard was placed before the door to protect the -guest from intrusion or harm. Raymond thought this cordon of braves was -also effective in preventing on his part any reconnoitring expedition -thence, when Choté, old town, lay asleep and at the mercy of the -curiosity of the inquisitive British officer. This suspicion, however, -seemed contradicted by the disposition of his cicerone during the day. -He was dragged hither and thither over every inch of the “sacred soil” -as it appeared, and every object of interest that the town possessed -was paraded before him to titillate his interest. The Indians of Choté, -an ancient and conservative municipality, yet retained a certain pride -in their national methods despite the repeated demonstration of the -superiority of the Europeans both in war and manufactures. Had Raymond -possessed a theoretical interest in such matters, or were he skilled -in anthropological deductions, he might have derived from them some -information concerning the forgotten history of the people. But it -was only with the superficial attention of the desperately idle that -he watched the great weaving-frame on which they made their cloth, of -porous quality--few yards indeed now being produced since the Indian -trade had brought English textile fabrics to the Tennessee River. He -had never seen a better saddle than the one a leisurely wight was -finishing--lying down in the sun at intervals and sleeping an hour or -so to reward some unusual speed of exertion. Raymond committed the -solecism of laughing aloud when told that a year’s time was necessary -to complete a saddle to the satisfaction of the expert. He took more -interest in their pottery--a wonderfully symmetrical pattern, in deep -indentations in checks or plaids, baffled his conjecture as to how -it was applied in the decoration of jars and bowls of the quaintest -shape imaginable. His guide, philosopher, and friend challenged him to -a dozen guesses, breaking out in guttural glee and ridicule at every -untoward suggestion, till at last Raymond was shown the baskets, deftly -woven of splints or straw or withes, which were lined with clay, and -set to bake in the oven, the plastic material taking not only the shape -of the mould but the pattern of the braiding. - -Raymond thought it was his interest in this primitive art that had -defied his conjectures which influenced his attention toward another -plastic impression different from aught he had seen in the Cherokee -country. Still accompanied by Wolf-with-two-feet he had left the -main portion of the town, and the two were idly strolling along the -river-bank. Raymond was thinking that Wolf-with-two-feet was not a -poor specimen of a host considering his limitations, his strange, -antiquated, savage standards, and his incapacity for civilization in -a modern sort. He had kept the shuttle-cock of conversation tossing -back and forth for two days. He had gotten up a horse-race and a -feather-dance to entertain the guest. He had fed him on his choice -of an imitation of British fare and appetizing Indian dainties, and -of the latter Raymond partook with distinct relish. He had shown the -town and descanted on the value of its methods of government and -its manufactures, and save that now and again he turned his sharp, -high-featured face, with its polled head and feather crest, toward him -with a fiery eye, his upper lip suddenly baring all his narrow white -teeth set in a curiously narrow arch, the officer could see naught of -the wolf in him. - -The sky was beginning to redden; the air was bland and filled with the -scent of the spring-tide herbs; some early growth of mint was crushed -under their feet and sent up a pungent aroma; the ground was moist and -warm, as it had been for several days; Raymond noticed on the shelving -shore the mark, still distinct, of the prow of the canoe in which he -had landed at Choté,--for during the last stages of the march the -Indians of the various riverside towns of the vicinity had come forth -and proffered their boats for the remainder of the journey. He now -spoke of the circumstance and identified the spot and the canoe, for -there was the print of his London-made boot distinct amongst the tracks -of a dozen Indian moccasins. His men had followed in a pettiaugre, -formerly belonging to Fort Loudon, and had landed a little below the -town. - -Perhaps it was this idle interest that kept him still looking at the -ground,--for, as they skirted a point and came again on a marshy level -beneath a row of cliffs, he suddenly paused and pointed out a different -impression on the earth. - -“But what is that?” he said, thinking first of some queer fish or -amphibious animal, for the natural history of America was of vast -interest to Europeans, and there were many fables current of strange -creatures peculiar to the new world. - -The Wolf-with-two-feet turned and looked down at the spot at which -Raymond was staring. - -“Where?” he asked in Cherokee, for the British officer spoke the -language with enough facility to enable them in casual conversation to -dispense with an interpreter. - -The impression was of a deep indentation in the centre, surrounded at -the distance of some inches by a ring, plainly marked but less deep, -and this had an outer circular imprint very symmetrical but still -more shallow. Raymond saw that for one moment the eyes of the Indian -rested upon it, but still saying, “Where?” he stepped about, looking -now in every direction but the one indicated; all at once, as if -inadvertently, he pressed his foot deeply into the marshy soil, and -the water rushing up obliterated forever the impression of the deep -indentation and the two concentric circles. - -Raymond called out to him pettishly that he had spoiled the opportunity -of discovering the cause of so strange a mark. - -“’Twas the track of a snake, perhaps, or a tortoise,” the Wolf -suggested. - -When he was assured that this was something circular and symmetrical, -he said he did not know what it could have been, but some things had -big hoofs. Perhaps it might have been Mr. Morton’s Big Devil, whom he -was so fond of preaching about! - -“In Choté?” asked Raymond. - -“Oh no--not in Choté,” the Wolf made haste to say--“Mr. Morton could -not preach in Choté. Cunigacatgoah has a sacred stone, an amulet, that -belongs to the Cherokee people, and it would not suffer a word about -Mr. Morton’s very wicked Big Devil in the city of refuge.” - -“An amulet against evil,” said Raymond sarcastically--“and yet the -Devil walks along the river-bank of the ‘ever-sacred’ soil and leaves -his big footprint in defiance!” - -“True,--true,”--said the Wolf, doubling like his own prey, “then it -couldn’t have been the Devil. It must have been a buffalo,--just a big -bull buffalo.” - -“A big bull buffalo with one foot,” sneered Raymond, logically, “there -is no other track near it,--except,” he continued looking narrowly at -the earth, “the imprint of a number of moccasins of several sizes.” He -was merely irritated at the balking of his natural curiosity, but he -noticed with surprise that Wolf-with-two-feet was very eager to quit -the subject, and digressed with some skill and by an imperceptible -gradation from the character of this spongy soil, so plastic to -impressions, to the alluvial richness of the whole belt along the -watercourses and thence to the large yield of the public fields that -lay to the southwest of Choté, and which were even now, early as it -was, in process of being planted. And then, as if suddenly bethinking -himself, he changed the direction of their stroll to give Raymond an -exhibition of the primitive methods of agriculture practised with such -signal success at Choté Great. At this hour the laborers had quitted -the fields, leaving, however, ample token of their industry. For in the -whole stretch of the cultivated land the fresh, rich, black loam had -been turned, but with never a plough, and daily large numbers of women -and girls repaired thither under the guidance of the “second men” of -the town to drop the corn. Though the world was so full of provender -elsewhere, the birds took great account of this proceeding, and -thronged the air twittering and chattering together as if discussing -the crop prospects. Now and again a bluejay flew across the wide -expanse of the fields, clanging a wild woodsy cry with a peculiarly -saucy intonation, as though to say, “I’ll have my share! I’ll have my -share!” - -But birds were builders in these days, and he could hardly see a beak -that was not laden with a straw. Oh, joyous architects, how benign that -no foreknowledge of the storm that was to wreck these frail tenements, -so craftily constructed, or of the marauder that was to rifle them, -hushed the song or weighted the wing! Human beings have a hard bargain -in their vaunted reason. - -There was none of the delight in the spring; none of the bliss of -sheer existence in days so redundant of soft sheen, of sweet sound, -of fragrant winds, of the stirring pulse of universal revivification; -none of that trust in the future which is itself the logic of gratitude -for the boons of the past, expressed in the hard-bitten faces of the -head-men and in the serious eyes of the young officer when they sat in -a circle around the fire in the centre of the council-house at Choté. -They were all anxious, troubled, each determined to mould the days to -come after the fashion of his individual will, only mindful enough of -the will of others to have a sense of doubt, of poignant hope, and a -strenuous realization of conflict. Thus the young officer was wary, and -the Indian chiefs were even wilier than their wont as he opened the -subject of his mission. - -The interpreter of each faction stood behind his principal, for a long -time silent as the official pipe was smoked. The council-house of the -usual type, a great rotunda built on a high mound near the “beloved -square,” and plastered within and without with red clay, was dark, save -for the glimmer of the dull fire and the high, narrow door, through -which could be seen the town of similar architecture but of smaller -edifices, with here and there a log cabin of the fashion which the -pioneers imitated in their earlier dwellings, familiar to this day, and -the open shed-like buildings at each side of the “beloved square.” -The river was in full view, a burnished steely gray, and the further -mountains delicately blue, but more than once, as Raymond glanced -toward them, his eyes were filled with a blinding red glare, sudden, -translucent, transitory. - -Only the nerve of a strong man, young, hearty, well-fed, enabled -him to be still and make no sign. The first thought in his mind was -that this was a premonition of illness, and hence it behooved him to -address himself swiftly to the business in hand that no interest of -the government might suffer. As he pressed his palm to his brow for -a moment, it occurred to him that the strange feather-crested faces -were watching him curiously, inimically,--but perhaps that was merely -because they doubted the intent of his mission. - -And so in Choté, in the unbroken peace of its traditional sanctity, he -began with open hostility. - -“You signed a treaty, Cunigacatgoah,” he addressed the ancient chief, -“and you Oconostota, and other head-men for the whole Cherokee -nation,--in many things you have broken it.” - -Several chiefs held out their hands to receive “sticks,” that they -might reply categorically to this point when he had finished. But -he shook his head. He did not intend to conform to Indian etiquette -further than in sitting on a buffalo rug on the floor, with his legs in -their white breeches and leggings folded up before him like the blades -of a clasp knife. He gesticulated much with his hands, around which -his best lace frills dangled, and he wore a dress sword as a mark of -ceremony; his hair was powdered, too, and he carried his cocked hat in -his left hand. He did not intend to be rude, but he was determined to -lose no time in useless observances, because of that strange affection, -that curious red glare which had seemed to suffuse his eyes, portending -some disturbance of the brain perchance. - -“No,” he said firmly, declining to receive or to give the notched -sticks, “I am not going to enter into the various details. There is -only one thing out of kilter about that treaty which I am going to -settle. It relates to the cannon which you brought here after the -capitulation of Fort Loudon. They were to be delivered up to the -British government according to the last treaty. Eight of these guns -were taken down to Fort Prince George, one was burst by an overcharge -at Fort Loudon, but others you have not relinquished. You have evaded -compliance.” - -A long silence ensued, while the chiefs gazed inscrutably into the -fire. Their pride, their dignity suffered from this cavalier address. -All their rancor was aroused against this man,--even his callowness was -displeasing to them. They revolted at his incapacity for ceremonial -observance, save, indeed, such as appertained to his military drill, -which they esteemed hideous and of no value to the British in the -supreme test of battle. They resented his persistence in having -ensconced himself here under the protection of the sanctities of Choté -until after his offensive mission should be disclosed and answered. -He had evidently neither the will nor the art to disguise it with -euphemistic phraseology that might render it more acceptable to a feint -of consideration. It was not now, however, at the moment of the French -withdrawal, that the Cherokees could resist by force an English demand. -Diplomacy must needs therefore fill the breach. In some way Captain -Howard had evidently learned that the three missing cannon were not -sunk in the river by the garrison of Fort Loudon as the Cherokees had -declared. With this thought in his mind, Cunigacatgoah said suddenly, -“Only three cannon failed to be relinquished,--they had been in the -river, and they were all sick,--they could not speak.” - -“Sick,--are they? I have a sovereign remedy for a sick cannon,” -declared Raymond. “They shall speak and--” Once more as he glanced -mechanically through the open door toward the brilliant outer world, -with the gleam of the river below the clifty mountains and a flight of -swans above, that curious translucent red light flashed through his -eye-balls. - -This time he was quicker,--or perhaps accident favored him, for as, -half-blinded, his glance returned, he saw the red light disappearing -into the ample sleeve of one of the Indians who sat on the opposite -side of the fire. - -Raymond’s first feeling was an infinite relief. No illness menaced -him, no obscure affection of the nerves or brain. Some art of -conjuring,--some mechanical contrivance, was it?--they were employing -to distract his attention. In their folly and fatuity did they dream -that they might thus undermine his purpose, or weaken his intellect, or -destroy his sight, or work a spell upon him? He marked how they watched -his every motion. - -He looked vaguely, uncertainly, about the shadowy place, with its -red wall. The decorated buffalo hides suspended on it showed dully -against its rich uniform tint. The circle of the seated Indian -chiefs in the shifting shadow and the flickering light, with their -puerile ornaments of paint and feathers and strings of worthless -beads about the barbaric garb of skin and fur, was itself vague, -unreal, like a curious poly-tinted daub, some extravagant depiction -of aboriginal art. Each face, however, was expressive in a different -degree of power, of perspicacity, of subtlety, and many devious mental -processes, and he marvelled, as many wiser men have marvelled since, -that these endowments of value should fail to compass the essentials -of civilization, theorizing dimly that the Indians were a remnant -of a different order of being, the conclusion of a period of human -development, the final expression of an alien mind, radically of an age -and species not to be repeated. - -There was absolutely no basis of mutual comprehension, and Raymond -was definitely aware of this when he said, “I can cure a disabled -cannon,--show me the guns,”--and a sudden silence ensued, the demand -evidently being wholly unexpected. - -“Tell me,” he urged, his patience growing scant, “where are the guns -now?” Then catching the shifty expression of the chief, Cunigacatgoah, -he was moved to add, disregarding the interpreter, “_Gahusti tsuskadi -nigesuna._” (You never tell a lie.) - -Now and again his knowledge of the Cherokee language had enabled him -to detect the linguister for the British force softening his downright -candid soldierly phrases. The interpreter was seeking to mitigate -the evident displeasure excited by the commander’s address, which he -thought might rebound upon himself, as the medium of such unpleasant -communication. There was something so sarcastic in this feigned -compliment that it might well have seemed positively unsafe, even more -perilous than overt insult, but as Raymond, with a wave of his cocked -hat in his left hand and a smiling bow of his heavily powdered and -becurled head, demanded, “_Haga tsunu iyuta datsi waktuhi?_” (Tell -me where they are now?) a vague smile played over the features of -Cunigacatgoah, and he who was wont to believe so little, found it easy -to imagine himself implicitly believed, the model of candor. - -He instantly assumed an engaging appearance of extreme frankness, and -abruptly said, “Now, I, myself, will tell you the whole truth.” - -Raymond looked at him eagerly, breathlessly, full of instant -expectation. - -“The cannon are not here,--they have all three sickened and died.” - -The soldier sat dumbfounded for a moment, realizing that this was no -figurative speech, that he was expected to entirely believe this,--so -low they rated the intelligence of the English! He experienced the -revolt of reason that seizes on the mind amidst the grotesqueries of a -dream. He had no words to combat the follies of the proposition. Only -with a sarcastic, fleering laugh he cried aloud, “_Gahusti tsuskadi -nigesuna!_” (You never tell a lie.) - -The next moment he felt choking. He was balked, helpless, hopeless, -at the end. He knew that Captain Howard had anticipated no strategy. -The savages could not by force hold the guns in the teeth of the -British demand, and the commandant of Fort Prince George had fancied -that they would be yielded, however reluctantly, on official summons. -They were necessary to Captain Howard, to complete his account of the -munitions of war intrusted to his charge, upon being transferred from -Fort Prince George. And this was the result of Raymond’s mission,--to -return empty-handed, outwitted, to fail egregiously in the conduct -of an expedition in which he had been graced with an independent -command,--Raymond was hot and cold by turns when he thought of it! Yet -the guns had disappeared, the Indians craftily held their secret, the -impossible checks even martial ardor. Raymond, however, was of the type -of stubborn campaigner that dies in the last ditch. The imminence of -defeat had quickened all his faculties. - -“_Ha-nagwa dugihyali_” (I’ll make a search), he blustered. - -But the threat was met with sarcastic smiles, and Cunigacatgoah said -again with urgent candor,--“_Agiyahusa cannon._” (My cannon are dead.) - -As Raymond hesitated, half distraught with anxiety and eagerness, the -red light suddenly flashed once more through his eye-balls from its -invisible source. He was inherently and by profession a soldier, and -it was not of his nature nor his trade to receive a thrust without an -effort to return a counter-thrust. - -“Hidden!” he cried suddenly, with eyes distended. “Hidden!” he paused, -gasping for effect. “I know the spot,” he screamed wildly, springing to -his feet; for he had just remembered the peculiar track he had noticed -on soft ground near the river, and he now bethought himself that only -the trunnion of a dismounted gun could have made an imprint such as -this. It suggested a recent removal and a buoyant hope. “The cannon are -in the ravine by the river. I know it! I know it!” - -In the confusion attendant upon this sudden outburst they all rose -turning hither and thither, awaiting they hardly knew what in this -untoward mystery of divination or revelation. Making a bull-like rush -amongst them, actually through the fire, Raymond fairly charged upon -the conjurer, felling him to the ground, and ran at full speed out into -the air and down the steep mound. - -“Fall in! Fall in!” he cried out to his “zanies” as he went, hearing in -a moment the welcome sound of his own drum beating “the assembly.” - -He led the way to the locality where he had seen the track, followed by -all his score of men at a brisk double-quick. In a ravine by the river -a close search resulted in the discovery of the guns ambushed in a -sort of grotto, all now mounted on their carriages. Not so sick were -they but that they could speak aloud, and they shouted lustily when -the charges of blank cartridges issued from their smoking throats. For -the giddy young officer had them dragged up to the bluffs and trained -them upon the “beloved town” of peace itself, and by reason of the -Indians’ terror of artillery hardly five minutes elapsed before Choté -was deserted by every inhabitant. - -Raymond found his best capacity enlisted to maintain his authority and -prevent his twenty men flushed with victory, triumphant and riotous -with joy, from pillaging the city of refuge, thus left helpless -at their mercy. But the behests of so high-handed and impetuous a -commander were not to be trifled with, and the troops were soon -embarked in the large pettiaugre belonging to the British government, -which chanced to be lying abandoned at the shore. In this they -transported the three guns, which they fired repeatedly as they rowed -up the Tennessee River, with the echoes bellowing after all along the -clifty banks and far through the dense woods,--effectually discouraging -pursuit. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - - -Why the recoil of the pieces did not sink the old pettiaugre with -all on board, to their imminent danger of drowning in the tumultuous -depths of the spring floods, Captain Howard could never understand, -except on the principle that “Naught is never in danger,” as he said -bluffly, now that his anxiety was satisfied. The heavy rainfall and the -melting of the snows had swollen the watercourses of the region to such -a degree that they had risen out of their deep, rock-bound channels, -and this enabled Raymond to secure water-carriage for the guns the -greater part of the return journey. He had some hardships to relate of -a long portage across country when the pack animals which had carried -his supplies and ammunition had been utilized as artillery horses, and -had drawn the guns along such devious ways as the buffalo paths from -one salt spring to another might furnish. Then they had embarked on -the Keowee, and had come down with a rushing current, firing a salute -to Fort Prince George as they approached, eliciting much responsive -cheering from the garrison, and creating more commotion than they were -worth, the commandant gruffly opined. - -He hearkened with a doubtful mien to the ensign’s report of the -vicissitudes of the expedition, and was obviously of the opinion -that the whole mission could have been as well accomplished in a less -melodramatic and turbulent manner. - -“I knew,” he said, “that the official demand for the guns would anger -the chiefs, for they have long craved the possession of a few pieces -of artillery, and nothing in their hands could be so dangerous to the -security of the colonies. But I was sure that being in Choté, you were -safe, and that if you should find it necessary to seize the guns they -would protect you against all odds on your march back to Fort Prince -George. I did not imagine the chiefs would venture so far as to conceal -the cannon, and of course that gave you a point of great difficulty. -But the feint of firing on the town was altogether unnecessary. There -was no occasion for incivility.” - -“Stop me, sir, if it had not been for their lies and conjuring tricks I -should have been as polite as pie.” - -Captain Howard listened with an impartial reservation of opinion to -the detail of the magic red light, but his face changed as Raymond -took from his pocket a gem-like stone, large, translucent, darkly red, -and caught upon it an intense reflection from the dull fire in the -commandant’s office. - -“This must be their famous ‘conjuring-stone,’” he said gravely. - -“The fellow dropped it when I knocked him down,” Raymond explained, -graphically. “I lost my balance, and we rolled on the ground together, -and as I pulled loose I found this in my hand.” - -Early travellers in this region describe this “conjuring-stone” of the -Cherokees as the size of a hen’s egg, red and of a crystalline effect, -like a ruby, but with a beautiful dark shade in the centre, and capable -of an intense reflection of light. - -The next day Captain Howard received from the Indians the strange -complaint that the British ensign had their “religion,” with a demand -that he be required to return it. They stated that they had searched -all their country for the sacred amulet, and they were convinced that -he had possessed himself of it. They were robbed of their “religion.” - -“This is idolatry,” exclaimed the old missionary, rancorously, vehement -objection eloquent on his face. - -“They tried to put my eyes out with their ‘religion,’” declared -Raymond. “They shall not have the amulet back again. They are better -off without such ‘religion.’” - -“That is not for _you_ to judge,” said Arabella, staidly. - -They were all strolling along the rampart within the stockade after -retreat. The parade was visible on one side with sundry incidents of -garrison life. The posting of sentinels was in progress; a corporal -was going out with the relief, and the echo of their brisk tramp came -marching back from the rocks of the river-bank; the guard, a glitter -of scarlet and steel, was paraded before the main gate. From the long, -dark, barrack building rose now and again the snatch of a soldier’s -song, and presently a chorus of laughter as some barrack wit regaled -the leisure of his comrades. The sunset light was reflected from the -glazed windows of the officers’ quarters; several of the mess had -already assembled in their hall to pass the evening with such kill-time -ingenuities as were possible in the wilderness. Now and again an -absentee crossed the parade with some token of how the day had been -passed;--a string of mountain trout justified the rod and reel of -an angler, coming in muddy and wet, and the envy of another soldier -meeting him; at the further end, toward the stables, a subaltern was -training a wild young horse for a hurdle race, and kept up the leaping -back and forth till he “came a cropper,” and his sore bones admonished -him that he had had enough for one day. - -The air was soft and sweet; the Keowee River, flush to its brim with -the spring floods, sang a veritable roundelay and vied with the birds. -Sunset seemed to have had scant homing monitions, for wings were yet -continually astir in the blue sky. All the lovely wooded eminences -close about the fort, and the Oconee mountain, and the nearer of the -great Joree ranges, were delicately, ethereally green against the clear -amethystine tone of the mountain background. - -And as if to fairly abash and surpass the spring, this dark-eyed, -fair-haired girl herself wore green, of a dainty shadowy tint, and -carried over one arm, swinging by a brown ribbon, a wide-brimmed hat, -held basket-wise, and full of violets, while the wind stirred her -tresses to a deeper, richer glitter in the sunset after-glow. For these -violets Raymond had rifled the woods for fifty miles as he came, and -she turned now and again to them with evident pleasure, sometimes to -handle a tuft especially perfect. - -Despite his hopelessness, in view of the impression he had received as -to Mervyn’s place in her good graces, Raymond set a special value on -aught that seemed to commend him. He had greatly enjoyed the pose of -a successful soldier, who had returned from the accomplishment of a -difficult and diplomatic mission. He cared not a _sou marqué_ for the -criticism of several of the other officers of the post who opined that -it was a new interpretation of the idea of diplomacy to train cannon -on commissioners in session and bring off the subject of negotiation -amidst the thunders of artillery. He had felt that it was enough that -he was here again, all in one piece, and so were the cannon,--and he -had brought off, too, it seemed, the “religion” of the Cherokees. He -experienced a sudden reaction from this satisfaction when Arabella -turned from the violets, and pronounced him unfit to judge of the -Indian’s religion. - -“Why not? I am as good a Christian as anybody,” he averred. - -Mervyn at this moment had a certain keenness of aspect, as if he -relished the prospect of a difference. This eagerness might have -suggested to Raymond, but for his own theory on the subject, that the -placid understanding which seemed to him to subsist between Arabella -and the captain-lieutenant was not as perfect as he thought. - -The Reverend Mr. Morton paused, with his snuff-box in his hand, to cast -an admonitory glance upon the young ensign. - -“There is none good,--no, not one,” he said rebukingly. - -He solemnly refreshed his nose with the snuff, although that feature -seemed hardly receptive of any sentiment of satisfaction, so long and -thin it was, so melancholy of aspect, giving the emphasis of asceticism -to his pallid, narrow face, and his near-sighted, absent-minded blue -eyes. - -“I mean, of course, by ordinary standards, sir. I’m as good a Christian -as Mervyn, or Lawrence, here, or Innis, or--or--the captain,” Raymond -concluded, with a glance of arch audacity at the commandant. - -“Hoh!” said Captain Howard, hardly knowing how to take this. He did -not pretend to be a pious man, but it savored of insubordination for a -subaltern to claim spiritual equality with the ranking officer. - -“When we are most satisfied with our spiritual condition we have -greatest cause for dissatisfaction,” declared the parson. - -With his lean legs encased in thread-bare black breeches and darned -hose,--he had been irreverently dubbed “Shanks” during the earlier -days of his stay at Fort Prince George,--his semi-ludicrous aspect of -cadaverous asceticism and sanctity, so incongruous with the haphazard -conditions of the frontier, it would have been difficult for a casual -observer to discern the reason of the sentiment of respect which he -seemed to command in the minds of these gallant and bluff soldiers. -Their arduous experience of the hard facts of life and the continual -defiance of death had left them but scant appreciation of the fine-spun -sacerdotal theories and subtle divergencies of doctrine in which Mr. -Morton delighted. Seldom did he open his oracular lips save to exploit -some lengthy prelection of rigid dogma or to deliver the prompt rebuke -to profanity or levity, which in the deep gravity of his nature seemed -to him of synonymous signification. He might hardly have noticed the -subject of conversation of the party as he walked by the commandant’s -side along the rampart, but for the word “religion.” He seemed to -be endowed with a separate sense for the apprehension of aught -appertaining to the theme that to him made up all the interest of this -world and the world to come. Therefore he spoke without fear or favor. -His asceticism was not of a pleasing relish, and his rebukes served -in no wise to commend him. It was his fearlessness in a different -sense that had made his name venerated. The rank and file could not -have done with rehearsing, with a gloating eye of mingled pride, and -derision, and pity, how he had driven the gospel home on the Cherokees, -in season and out, they being at his mercy, for by the rigid etiquette -of the Indians they were forbidden to interrupt or break in upon any -discourse, however lengthy or unpalatable. And how he had persisted, -albeit his life was not safe; and how the head-men had finally -notified Captain Howard; and how Captain Howard had remonstrated in -vain; and how at last Ensign Raymond had had the old parson literally -brought off in the arms of two of their own command. It is to be feared -that it was neither learning nor saintliness that so commended the old -missionary to the garrison of Fort Prince George. - -Now it seemed that the Cherokees had lost their own religion, if this -amulet represented it, for by their curious racial logic Raymond -possessed its symbol and therefore they no longer had the fact. - -“It is a heathen notion that I have got their religion,” protested -Raymond. “They never had any religion.” - -“It is religion to them,” said Arabella. “Religion is faith. Religion -is a conviction of the soul.” - -“True religion is a revelation to the mind direct from God,” said -Mr. Morton, didactically. “The name doth not befit the hideous pagan -follies of the Indians.” - -She did not feel qualified to argue; she only said vaguely with a -certain primness, in contrast with her method of addressing the young -men:-- - -“Faith always seems to me the function of the soul, as reason is of the -mind. You can believe an error, but mistakes are not founded on reason.” - -Then she asked him suddenly if the stress that the Cherokees laid on -this amulet did not remind him of the attributes of the ark of the -Hebrews and their despair because of its capture. - -“The ark was a type,--a type,” he declared, looking off with -unseeing eyes into the blue and roseate sky and launching out into -a dissertation on the image and the reality, the prophecy and -its fulfilment, with many a digression to a cognate theme, while -Captain Howard affected to listen and went over in his mind his -quarter-master’s accounts, the state of the armament of the fort, and -the equipment of the men, all having relation to the settling of his -affairs in quitting his command. The younger people chatted in low -voices under cover of the monologue, it not being directly addressed to -them. - -They had slowly strolled along the rampart as they talked, the two -elderly men in the rear, the girl in the centre, with her charming -fair-haired beauty, more ethereal because of that pervasive, tempered, -pearly light which just precedes the dusk, while the young officers, -in the foppery of their red coats, their white breeches, their cocked -hats, and powdered hair, kept on either side. The party made their -way out from the dead salient of the angle, only to be defended by -the musketry of soldiers standing on the banquettes, and ascended -the rising ground to the terre-pleine, where cannon were mounted _en -barbette_ to fire above the parapet. - -As Arabella noticed the great guns, standing a-tilt, she said they -reminded her of grim hounds holding their muzzles up to send forth -fierce howls of defiance. - -“They can send forth something fiercer than howls,” said Raymond, -applausively. He was a very young soldier, and thought mighty well of -the little cannon. Captain Howard, who had seen war on a fine scale -and was used to forts of commensurate armament, could not repress a -twinkle of the eye, although for no consideration would he have said -aught to put the subaltern out of conceit with his little guns. - -The other cannon were pointed through embrasures beneath the parapet. -One of them had been run back on its chassis. She paused beside it, -and stood looking through the large aperture, languid, and silent, and -vaguely wistful, at the scene from a new point of view. - -As she lingered thus, all fair-haired in her faint green dress, with -her hat on her arm full of violets, one hand on the silent cannon, she -seemed herself a type of spring, of some benison of peace, of some -grave and tender mediatrix. - -The foam was aflash on the rapids of the Keowee River; the sound of its -rush was distinct in the stillness. Now and again the lowing of cattle -came from some distant ranch of pioneer settlers. The Indian town of -Keowee on the opposite side of the river was distinct to view, with its -conical roofs and its great rotunda on a high mound, all recognizable, -despite the reduction of size to the proportions of the landscape of -the distance. No wing was now astir in the pallid, colorless sky. One -might hardly say whence the light emanated, for the sun was down, the -twilight sped, and yet the darkness had not fallen. A sort of gentle -clarity possessed the atmosphere. She noted the line of the parapet of -the covered way, heretofore invisible because of the high stockade, -and beyond still the slope of the glacis, and there-- - -“What _is_ that?” she said, starting forward, peering through the -embrasure into the gathering gloom. A dark object was visible just -beyond the crest of the glacis. It was without form, vague, opaque, -motionless, and of a consistency impossible to divine. - -“Why,--the Indian priests or conjurers,” Mervyn explained. “They have -been there all day.” - -“They are called the _cheerataghe_,--men possessed of divine fire,” -Raymond volunteered. - -The captain-lieutenant somewhat resented the amendment of his -explanation. “They are the only people in the world who believe that -Raymond has any religion of any sort.” He laughed with relish and -banteringly. - -“Don’t you think that is funny, Mr. Mervyn?” she demanded, her tone a -trifle enigmatical. She did not look at him as she still leaned with -one hand on the cannon, her hat full of violets depending from her arm. - -“Vastly amusing, sure,” declared Mervyn,--and Ensign Innis laughed, -too, in the full persuasion of pleasing. - -“I can’t see their feathers or bonnets,” she said. - -“No,” explained Raymond, “they have their heads covered with the cloth -they weave, and they heap ashes on the cloth.” - -“Oh-h-h!” cried out Arabella. - -“Watch them,--watch them now,” Raymond said quickly. “They are heaping -the ashes on their heads again.” - -There was a strange, undulatory motion among the row of heavily draped -figures, each bending to the right, their hands seeming to wildly wave -as they caught up the invisible ashes before them and strewed them -over their heads, while a low wail broke forth. “And you think this is -funny?” demanded Arabella of the young men, looking at them severally. - -“I can’t say I think it is _un_funny,” said Innis, with a rollicking -laugh. - -“I think it is very foolish,” said Lawrence. - -“I don’t believe they have lost a religion because I’ve got it in my -pocket,” said Raymond. - -“And they are old men--are they?” she asked. - -“Old?”--said Mervyn. “Old as Noah.” - -“And they have had a long journey?” - -“Pounded down here all the way from Choté on their ten old toes.” - -“And how long will they stay there, fasting, and praying, and wailing, -and waiting, in sackcloth and ashes?” - -“Perhaps till they work some sort of spell on me,” suggested Raymond. -She laughed at this in ridicule. - -“Till the fort is evacuated, I suppose,” said Mervyn. - -“So long as that!” she exclaimed, growing serious. All at once she -caught her breath with a gasp, staring at the Indians in the gathering -gloom, as with a sudden inspiration. - -“I would speak with them!--Oh, la!--what a thing to tell in England! -Take me down there,--quick. Tillie vallie!--there is no water in the -fosse. What a brag to make in Kent! There can be no danger under the -guns of the fort. Lord, papa,--_let me go_!” - -Captain Howard hesitated, but made no demur. The war was over, and -there was indeed no risk; and Arabella’s pilgrimage into primeval -realms would be infinitely embellished by this freak. All of the young -officers accompanied her, the interpreter, hastily summoned, following; -the commandant and the parson watched from the rampart. - -She went through the gray dusk like some translucent apparition, the -figment of lines of light. The moon, now in the sky, hardly annulled -the tints of her faint green gown; her hair glittered in the sheen; her -face was ethereally white. - -The wailing ceased as her advance was observed. The swaying figures -were still. A vague fear seized her as she came near to those -mysterious veiled creatures, literally abased to the ground. She -wavered for a moment,--then she paused on the crest of the glacis in -silence and evident doubt. - -There was an interval of suspense. The odors of violets and dust and -ashes were blended on the air. Dew was falling; the river sang; and the -moon shone brighter as the darkness gathered. - -“Good people,” she said, with a sort of agitated, hysteric break in her -clear voice, for she was realizing that she knew not how to address -magnates and priests of a strange alien nation. - -The croak of the interpreter came with a harsh promptitude on each -clause. - -“Good people, I hear a voice,”--she paused again, and corrected -her phrase,--“I feel a monition--to tell you that your prayers are -answered. Your ‘religion’ I have the power to restore. To-morrow, at -the fort, at high noon, it shall be returned to you. If you help the -helpless, and feed the hungry, and cherish the aged, and show mercy -to captives, it will be a better religion than ever heretofore. I -promise,--I pledge my word.” - -She wavered anew and shrank back so suddenly that Raymond thought she -might fall. But no! She fled like a deer, her green draperies all -fluttering in the wind, the moonlight on her golden hair and in her -shining eyes. The officers followed, half bewildered by her freak, -Raymond first of all. He overtook her as she was climbing through the -fraise of the steep exterior slope of the rampart, clutching at the -sharp stakes to help her ascent. - -“Stop! stop!” he said, catching at her sleeve and pausing to look up -gravely into her eyes as she, laughing, gasping, half-hysterical, -looked down at him standing on the berme below. “Are you in earnest?” -he demanded. - -“Yes,--yes,--I shall give back the amulet.” - -She seemed hardly to realize that it was his; that he had captured it -in a mêlée; that it was now in his possession; that he had a word in -the matter, a will to be consulted. - -“I don’t understand--” he hesitated. - -“Oh,--la,--_you_! You make no difference. _I_ have worked a spell on -_you_,--as you know!” - -She laughed again, caught her breath with a gasp, and began once more -to ascend swiftly through the fraise. But he was beside her in a -moment. He caught her little hand trembling and cold in his. - -“Arabella,” he cried, in agitated delight, “you know I worship -you,--you know that you have indeed all my heart,--but only a -subaltern,--I hardly dared to hope--” - -“La! you needn’t bestir yourself to hope now! Sure, I didn’t say _you_ -had worked any spell on _me_.” - -Not another word was possible to him, for the others had overtaken -them, and it was in a twitter of laughter that she climbed through -the embrasure, and in a flutter of delighted achievement that she -breathlessly detailed the adventure to her father and the parson. Then -hanging on the commandant’s arm she demurely paced to and fro along the -moonlit rampart, now and again meeting Raymond’s gaze with a coquettish -air of bravado which seemed to say:-- - -“Talk love to me _now_,--if you dare!” - -The embassy of Indians had disappeared like magic. The party from the -fort declared that upon glancing back at the glacis the row of veiled, -humiliated figures had vanished in the inappreciable interval of time -like a wreath of mist or a puff of dust. - -One could hardly say that they returned the next day,--so unlike, -so far alien to the aspect of the humble mourners, who had wept and -gnashed their teeth and wailed in sackcloth and ashes on the glacis -of the fort in the dim dusk, was the splendidly armed and arrayed -delegation that high noon ushered into the main gate. Their coronets -of white swan’s feathers, standing fifteen inches high, with long -pendants trailing at the back, rose out of a soft band of swan’s-down -close on the forehead. They wore wide collars or capes of the same -material, and the intense whiteness heightened the brilliancy of the -blotches of decorative paint with which their faces were mottled. Each -had a feather-wrought mantle of iridescent plumage, the objects of -textile beauty so often described by travellers of that date. They bore -the arms of eld, in lieu of the more effective musket, wearing them as -ornaments and to emphasize the fact that they were needed neither for -defence nor aggression. The bows and arrows were tipped with quartz -wrought to a fine polish, and the quivers were covered with gorgeous -embroidery of beads and quills. Their hunting shirts and leggings were -similarly decorated and fringed with tinkling shells. They were shod -with the white buskins cabalistically marked with red to indicate their -calling and rank as “beloved men.” Their number was the mystic seven. -They were all old, one obviously so infirm that the pace of the others -was retarded to permit him to keep in company. They advanced with much -stateliness, and it was evidently an occasion of great moment in their -estimation. - -Captain Howard, adopting the policy of the government to fall in with -the Indian ceremonial rather than to seek to force the tribes to other -methods, met them in person, and with some pomp and circumstance -conducted them to the mess-hall in one of the block-houses, as the -most pretentious apartment of the fort. He was an indulgent man when -off duty. He was rather glad, since to his surprise Ensign Raymond -had suddenly declared that he was willing to return the amulet, that -the Indians should have the bauble on which they set so much value, -and he was altogether unmoved by Mr. Morton’s remonstrance that it -was a bargaining with Satan, a recognition of a pagan worship, and a -promotion of witchcraft and conjure work to connive at the restoration -of the red stone to its purpose of delusion. - -Inclination fosters an ingenuity of logic. “I am disposed to think the -stone is a symbol--a type of something I do not understand,” Captain -Howard replied; evidently he had absorbed something of Mr. Morton’s -prelections by the sheer force of propinquity, for certainly he had -never intentionally hearkened to them. “You, yourself, have often said -the Cherokees are in no sense idolaters.” - -The officers of the post had no scruples. They were all present, -grouped about the walls, welcoming aught that served to break the -monotony. Mrs. Annandale, cynical, inquisitive, scornful, and deeply -interested, was seated in one of the great chairs so placed that she -could not fail to see all of what she contemptuously designated as -“the antics.” Norah stood behind her, wide-eyed and half-frightened, -gazing in breathless amazement at the proceedings. The room was lighted -only by the loop-holes for musketry, looking to the outer sides of the -bastion, and the broadly flaring door, for there was no fire this -warm, spring day. The great chimney-place was filled with masses of -pine boughs and glossy magnolia leaves, to hide its sooty aperture, and -on the wide hearth, near this improvised bower, stood Arabella, looking -on, a pleased spectator, as Raymond advanced to the table in the centre -of the floor, and laid upon it the great red stone, which shone in the -shadowy place with a translucent lustre that might well justify its -supernatural repute. The interpreter repeated the courteous phrases -in which Ensign Raymond stated that he took pleasure in returning -this object of beauty and value which had by accident fallen into his -possession. - -His words were received in dead silence. The Indians absolutely ignored -him. They looked through him, beyond him, never at him. He had been -the cause of much anguish of soul, and the impulse of forgiveness is -foreign to such generosity of spirit as is predicable of the savage. - -A moment of suspense ensued. Then the tallest, the stateliest of -the Indians reached forth his hand, took the amulet, passed it to a -colleague, who in his turn passed it to another, and in the continual -transfer its trail was lost and the keenest observer could not say at -length who was the custodian of the treasure. - -Another moment of blank expectancy. There were always these barren -intervals in the leisurely progress of Indian diplomacy. The interview -seemed at an end. The next incident might be the silent filing out of -the embassy and their swift, noiseless departure. - -Suddenly the leader took from one of the others a small bowl of their -curious pottery. It was full of fragrant green herbs which had been -drenched in clear water, for as he held them up the crystal drops fell -from them. There was a hush of amazed expectancy as he advanced toward -the young lady. With an inspired mien and a sonorous voice he cried, -casting up his eyes, “_Higayuli Tsunega!_” - -“Oh, supreme white Fire!” echoed the interpreter. - -“_Sakani udunuhi nigesuna usinuliyu! Yu!_” - -“Grant that she may never become unhappy! Yu!” - -Then lifting the fresh leafage aloft, the cheerataghe, with a solemn -gesture, sprinkled the water into her astounded face. - -“Safe! Safe!” the interpreter continued to translate his words. “Safe -forever! She and hers can never know harm in the land of the Cherokee. -Not even a spirit of the air may molest her; no ghost of the departed -may haunt her sleep; not the shadow of a bird can fall upon her; no -vagrant witch can touch her with malign influence.” - -“_Ha-usinuli nagwa ditsakuni denatlu hisaniga uy-igawasti dudanti!_” -declared the cheerataghe. - -“We have keenly aimed our arrows against the accursed wanderers of -darkness!” chanted the interpreter. - -“_Nigagi! Nigagi!_” - -“Amen! Amen!” - -A breathless silence ensued. No word. No stir. The amazement depicted -on the faces of the staring officers, the dubitation intimated in -Captain Howard’s corrugated, bushy eye-brows, the perplexity in Mrs. -Annandale’s eagerly observant, meagre little countenance, were as -definite a comment as if voiced in words. This was all caviare indeed -to their habits of mind, accustomed as they were to the consideration -of material interests and the antagonisms of flesh and blood. But the -pale ascetic face of the old missionary was kindled with a responsive -glow that was like the shining of a flame through an alabaster vase, so -pure, so exalted, so vivid an illumination it expressed, so perfect a -comprehension this spark of symbolism had ignited. - -As a type of covenant the suggestions afforded by this incident -occupied several learned pages of Mr. Morton’s recondite work on -“Baptism in its Various Forms in Antient and Modern Times,” published -some years afterward, a subject which gratefully repays amplification -and is susceptible of infinite speculation. The peculiar interest which -the occasion developed for him served to annul the qualms of conscience -which he had suffered, despite which, however, instigated by the old -Adam of curiosity, he had permitted himself to be present at the -restoration of the conjuring-stone to its mission of delusion. - -A mention of the amulet as a “lost religion” was the next moment on the -lips of the interpreter, echoing the rhetorical periods of Yachtino, -the chief of Chilhowee, who had stepped forward and was speaking -with a forceful dignity of gesture and the highly aspirated, greatly -diversified intonations of the Cherokee language, illustrating its -vaunted capacity for eloquent expressiveness, and affording the group -a signal opportunity of judging of the grace of oratory for which these -Indians were then famous. - -The gratitude of the Indians, the spokesman declared, was not to be -measured by gifts. Not in recognition of her beneficence, not in return -for her kindness,--for kindness cannot be bought or repaid, and they -were her debtors forever,--but as a matter of barter the Cherokee -nation bestowed upon her their pearl, the “sleeping sun,” in exchange -for the amulet which she had caused to be returned by the ruthless -soldier. - -Forthwith the chief of Chilhowee laid upon the table the beautiful -fresh-water pearl which Raymond had seen at Cowetchee. - -Heedless of all the subtler significance of the ceremony, and, under -the British flag, caring naught for the vaunted puissance of Cherokee -protection against the seen and the unseen, the astonished and -delighted young beauty gazed speechless after the embassy, for their -grotesquely splendid figures had disappeared as silently as the images -of a dream, feeling that the reward was altogether out of proportion -with the simplicity of the kindly impulse that had actuated her girlish -heart. Because they were very old and savage, and, as she thought, -very poor, and were agonized for a boon which in their ignorance they -craved as dear and sacred, she had exerted the influence she knew she -possessed to restore to them this trifle, this bauble,--and here in her -hand the tear of compassion, as it were, was metamorphosed into a gem -such as she had never before beheld. - -Mounted by a London jeweller between prongs set with diamonds it was -famous in her circle for its size and beauty, and regarded as a curio -it could out-vie all Kent. She long remembered the Cherokee words which -described it, and she entertained a sort of regretful reminiscence of -Fort Prince George, soon dismantled and fallen into decay, where the -spring had come so laden with beauty and charm, and with incidents of -such strange interest. - -Mrs. Annandale also remembered it regretfully, and with a bitter, -oft-reiterated wish that Arabella had never seen the little stronghold -or the officers of its garrison. She used her utmost endeavors -against Raymond’s suit, but threats, persuasion, appeals, were vain -with Arabella. She had made her choice, and she would not depart -from it. Her heart was fixed, and not even the reproach to which her -generous temper rendered her most susceptible,--that she had caused -pain and unhappiness to Mervyn, encouraging him to cherish unfounded -hopes,--moved her in the least. She reminded them both that she had -warned him he must not presume on her qualified assent as a finality; -she had always feared she did not love him, and now she knew it was -impossible. - -“I can’t imagine how Ensign Raymond had the opportunity to interfere,” -Mrs. Annandale said wofully to her brother in one of their many -conferences on the unexpected turn of the romance the match-maker had -fostered. “I am sure I never gave him the opportunity to make love to -her; it was dishonorable in him to introduce the subject of love when -he knew of her engagement.” - -“He did not introduce the subject of love,” said Arabella, remembering -the scene in the fraise above the scarp, and laughing shyly. “I, -myself, spoke first of love.” - -Then awed by her aunt’s expression of horror and offended propriety, -she added demurely:-- - -“It must have been the influence of that amulet. He had it then. They -say it bestows on its possessor his own best good.” - -Captain Howard also remembered Fort Prince George regretfully, and -also with a vague wish that she had never seen the little stronghold. -He was not exactly discontented with Raymond as a son-in-law, but this -was not his preference, for he had advocated her acceptance of Mervyn’s -suit. His own limited patrimony lay adjoining the Mervyn estate, and he -thought the propinquity a mutual advantage to the prospects of the two -young people, and that it materially enhanced Arabella’s position as a -suitable match for the Mervyn heir. The succeeding baronet was a steady -conventional fellow, and had been very well thought of in the regiment -before he sold out upon coming into his title and fortune. Raymond -would be obliged to stick to the army, having but small means, and he -would doubtless do well if he could be kept within bounds. - -“But,” Captain Howard qualified, describing the absent soldier to an -intimate friend and country neighbor in Kent, over the post-prandial -wine and walnuts,--“but he is such a frisky dare-devil! If he could be -scared half to death by somebody it would tame him, and be the making -of him.” - -In a few years it might have seemed that this had been compassed, -for it was said that Raymond was afraid of his lovely wife. He was -obviously so solicitous of her approval, he considered her judgment of -such peculiar worth, and he thought her so “monstrous clever,” that -when impervious to all other admonitions, he could be reached, advised, -warned, through her influence. - -When he became a personage of note, for in those days of many wars he -soon rose to eminence, and it was desired to flatter, or court, or -conciliate him, a difficult feat, for he was absolutely without vanity -for his own sake, it was understood that there was one secure road to -his favorable consideration,--he was never insensible to admiration of -his wife’s linguistic accomplishments, which included among more useful -tongues, the unique acquisition of something of the Cherokee language. -Then, too, he was always attentive and softened by any comment, in some -intimate coterie, upon the jewel, now called a pendant, which, hanging -by a slender chain, rose and fell on a bosom as delicately white as -the gem itself. The great pearl was associated with the most cherished -sentiments of his life, his love and his pride in his professional -career,--with the inauguration of his dear and lasting romance, and -his first independent command. With a tender reminiscent smile on his -war-worn face, he would ask her to repeat the word for the moon in -the several dialects, and would listen with an unwearied ear as she -rehearsed her spirited story of the “sleeping sun,” and the method of -its barter for the amulet. - - - - -BY THE SAME AUTHOR - - -THE STORM CENTRE - -_A NOVEL_ - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -“This beautiful novel by Charles Egbert Craddock shows the brilliant -and popular writer in her best vein.... The war scenes, the guiding -motives of the opposed sides, the pictures of the old Southern -household, are strikingly impressive by the nobility and the breadth -of their portrayal. The book is one to be held in high favor -long.”--_Louisville Courier-Journal._ - - -THE STORY OF OLD FORT LOUDON - -A tale of the Cherokees and the Pioneers of Tennessee, 1760 - -_With Illustrations by E. C. Peixotto_ - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -A narrative of the life of the pioneers of Tennessee and their fortunes -at the hands of the Cherokees in the uprising of 1760. The brilliant -Tennessee landscape and the old frontier fort serve as a background -to this picture of Indian craft and guile and pioneer hardships and -pleasures. - - -CONISTON - -By WINSTON CHURCHILL - -Author of “RICHARD CARVEL,” “THE CRISIS,” “THE CROSSING,” etc. - -_With Illustrations by Florence Scovel Shinn_ - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -“A wonderful piece of work, distinguished as much by its restraint as -by its rugged strength. In Jethro Bass Mr. Churchill has created a -man full of fine and delicate feeling, capable of great generosities -and exquisite tenderness; ... full of interest and charm as a love -story.... Altogether, an engrossing novel, singularly vigorous, -thoughtful, artistic.”--_New York Times._ - -“Coniston strengthens Mr. Churchill’s position as one of the ablest -writers of the day. _It possesses the irresistible grip on the emotions -possessed by the great novelists._”--_Boston Herald._ - -“Coniston is a greater novel than any that preceded it, and ... works -up an intense dramatic interest that almost makes one forget its -literary charm.”--_Chicago Record-Herald._ - - -LADY BALTIMORE - -By OWEN WISTER - -Author of “THE VIRGINIAN,” etc., etc. - -_With illustrations by Lester Ralph and Vernon Howe Bailey_ - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -“‘Lady Baltimore’ is the most engaging story yet written of Southern -life. It is the quiet annals of an old Southern town in the -half-whimsical, wholly sympathetic style of ‘Cranford,’ to which it -is closely akin in charm. It reminds one, too, of Margaret Deland’s -admirable ‘Old Chester Tales,’ for it is written with the same loving -appreciation of a simple neighborhood. With what a sense of humor, with -what a delicacy of touch, with what a finished skill Owen Wister has -made an exquisite picture you must read to see. It is like a dainty -water-color portrait, delicious in itself even if it were not true; but -to its truth there will rise up a crowd of witnesses.”--By a Southern -contributor to _The Record-Herald_, Chicago. - - -RECENT FICTION - - -THE VINE OF SIBMAH - -_A RELATION OF THE PURITANS_ - -By ANDREW MACPHAIL - -Author of “Essays in Puritanism” - - Illustrated Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -Mr. Andrew Macphail has created a novel out of the life in which he -is specially versed--that of the Puritans of Old and New England. -Puritan theologians and Puritan pirates, Jesuits, Quakers, soldiers and -savages, with their religions, their hates and their loves, are among -the characters of this book. The novel is a reading of the “eternal -thesis of love” as it was written in 1662 around the lives of a valiant -soldier and a winsome woman. - - -THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I - -By BARBARA - -Author of “The Garden of a Commuter’s Wife,” “People of the Whirlpool,” -etc., etc. - - Illustrated Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -The author of “The Garden of a Commuter’s Wife” has returned to her -first theme; and those who revelled in that book will welcome the -outdoor volume promised for this spring under the intimate title of -“The Garden, You, and I.” Herein is the wholesome flow of good-humor -and keen observation that have always been among the charms of -“Barbara’s” writings. - - -IF YOUTH BUT KNEW - -By AGNES AND EGERTON CASTLE - -Authors of “THE PRIDE OF JENNICO,” etc. - -_With illustrations by Launcelot Speed_ - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -“The story shows that rare combination of poetic tenderness and -romantic adventure which is the unfailing charm of the fiction of these -authors.”--_Chicago Record-Herald._ - -“They should be the most delightful of comrades, for their writing is -so apt, so responsive, so joyous, so saturated with the promptings and -the glamour of spring. It is because ‘If Youth But Knew’ has all these -adorable qualities that it is so fascinating.”--_Cleveland Leader._ - - -THE WAY OF THE GODS - -By JOHN LUTHER LONG - -Author of “MADAME BUTTERFLY,” “HEIMWEH,” etc. - - Cloth 12mo $1.50 - -“The Way of the Gods,” a new novel by John Luther Long, is laid in -the beautiful land of “Madame Butterfly,” and in the heart of the -Lady Hoshiko, Dream-of-a-Star. 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