The Storm Centre: A Novel Read online

  CHAPTER IV

  Now, face to face with the long-sought opportunity, Colonel Ashley wasgrievously disappointed. A woman--young, singularly beautiful, dressedlike a middle-aged frump, with the manners of a matron of fifty, staid,reserved, inattentive, uninterested!

  The incongruity affected him like a discourtesy; its rarity had noattractions for him, nor in the slightest degree roused his curiosity.He had expected charm, glow, responsiveness, coquetry,--all the varioustraits that attend on beauty and youth. Even a conscious hauteur wouldhave had its special grace and piqued an effort to win her tocordiality, but here was the inexpressiveness, the indifference, of anelderly woman, one tired, despondent, done with the world--civil,indeed, as behooved her rearing, her station, but unnoting--really apartfrom all the interests of the present and all thought for the future.And, certainly, Mrs. Gwynn's life might be considered already lived outin her past.

  The rain fell in sheets, and Colonel Ashley wished himself back in camp,despite the flavor of the flummery. As they sat at table, now and againa vivid glare of lightning revealed through the windows the expanse offalling water, closely wrought as a silver-gray fabric, and the flash ofwhite foam from its impact with the ground. The house seemed to rockwith the reverberations of the bursts of thunder.

  When they were once more in the library, Colonel Ashley found himselfwith a long evening on his hands; his chum, Baynell, had fallen into oneof his frequent fits of silent reflectiveness as he smoked, and JudgeRoscoe, an ascetic, quiet, uncongenial old man, of opposite politicalconvictions,--which placed an embargo on all the topics of the day,--didnot seem to promise much in the way of lively companionship.

  Mrs. Gwynn still lingered in the dining room, and the little "ladies"explained that her old nurse, who was now the cook, was afflicted with a"misery," seeming to bear some relation to neuralgia, and needed help toget through with her work, "Uncle Ephraim being a poor dependence" wherethe handling of crockery was concerned.

  The "ladies," with true feminine coquetry, affected a shy reserve, andrather retreated from the expansive jovial bonhomie of Colonel Ashley'shearty advances toward them, albeit they were wont to press theirattentions upon the inexpressive Captain Baynell. They met withfluttering downcast glances the engaging twinkle of Ashley's bright darkeyes. They replied with demure little clipped monosyllables to his gaysallies, and indeed Colonel Ashley bade fair to discharge the task ofentertaining himself throughout the evening, till he luckily asked oneof them what she liked best to play--graces or battledore andshuttlecock, Geraldine having brought in a grace-hoop and now holding itin her hands before her as she stood in the flicker of the fire.

  "I like cards best," Adelaide volunteered unexpectedly.

  "Have you a pack of cards? Then let's have a game!" Ashley cried gayly;"though I'm afraid you can beat me at anything I try."

  There was a shrill jubilance of juvenile acclaim. The three, theirringlets waving, their cheeks flushing, the short skirts of their gayattire--blue, and crimson, and orange--fluttering joyfully, wereinstantly placing the chairs about the little card-table and climbinginto them, while Colonel Ashley took the cards and dealt them with manyairy fancy touches, to the amazement and admiration of the "ladies."With his versatile capacity for all sorts of enjoyment, the incident wasbeginning to have a certain zest for him, involving no sacrifice eitherof inclination or time. Baynell realized how Ashley also valued thepose. He had an intuitive perception of Ashley's own relish of itsincongruity,--the gallant colonel of cavalry, who had successfullymeasured blades with the fiercest swordsmen and masters of fence, to benow lending himself gently to play with three little children, whosesoft eyes glowed upon him with radiant admiration and tenderestconfidence, while the firelight flared and flickered within and thestorm raged without! Baynell knew that it was with an appreciatedsacrifice of the perfect proportions of the situation that Ashleyfinally dealt cards for his friend and Judge Roscoe; he would havepreferred to exclude them, if he might, and have the whole stage for theeffects of his own dramatic personality. But never, in all his weavingsof romance about himself, was Ashley guilty of even the slightestinjustice or discourtesy or forgetfulness of the claims of others; hencehis character was almost as fine and lovable as he feigned, or as itwould have seemed, had but his foible of self-appreciation,self-gratulation, borne a juster proportion and been rendered lessobvious by his own cheerful, unconscious, transparent candor. There wasno guile in him, and the smile was quite genuine with which he took uphis cards and affected to look anxiously through them to discern if Fatelurked therein in the presence of the Old Maid.

  For it was this dread game that the "ladies" had chosen, and a seriousaffair it is when regarded from their standpoint. Ashley had now no needof his own sentiments or mental processes or artistic poses to ministerto his entertainment. It was quite sufficient to watch the faces of the"ladies" as the "draw" went round, each player in turn taking at randoman unseen card from the hand of the next neighbor to the left, thewhole pack of course having been dealt. The heavy terror of doom wasattendant upon the unwelcome pasteboard. Once, as this harbinger of Fatepassed on, a gleeful squeal announced that a "lady" had escaped theanguish of the prospect of single blessedness.

  "That's not fair, Ger'ldine!" exclaimed Adelaide, reprovingly; "you havetold ever'body that Gran'pa has drawed the Old Maid!"

  "I jus' couldn't help it--I was _so glad_ she was gone," apologized thecontrite Geraldine.

  "It makes no difference, my precious, for I have two of the queens, andthey are a pair," said Judge Roscoe, and as he threw the mates on thetable the "ladies" placed their hands on their lips to stifle the aghast"Ohs!" and "Ahs!" that trembled on utterance, and gazed on theirfellow-gamesters with great, excited, round eyes. For the crisis hadsupervened. Of course one of the queens had been withdrawn from the packat the commencement of the game, in order to leave an odd queen as theOld Maid. Since two had just been discarded there remained the propheticspinster, and each "lady's" delicate little fingers trembled on the"draw." Ashley could scarcely preserve a becoming gravity andinexpressiveness as the pleading beseeching eyes of his next neighborwere cast up to his countenance, seeking to read there some intimationof the character of the card she had selected. More than once thechoice was precipitately abandoned at the last moment and another cardsnatched at hysteric haphazard. Then when an insignificant five ofdiamonds or three of spades was revealed,--what joy of relief, whatdeep-drawn sighs of relaxed tension, what activity of little slipperedfeet under the table, unable to be still, fairly dancing with pleasurethat the Old Maid with her awful augury still held aloof and went therounds elsewhere! Then--the eagerness of expectation and the renewedjeopardy of doubt.

  "On my word, this is sport!" exclaimed Colonel Ashley. "This is betterthan a 'small stake to give an interest to the game,'--eh, Judge?"

  "It's a _big_ stake," said Geraldine, at his elbow, "the Old Maid is!"

  The desperate suspense, the anguish of jeopardy, continued, and atlength Geraldine had but one card left, Colonel Ashley holding two; theother players having matched and tabled the rest of the pack were nowout of the game. Seeing how seriously the doom of spinsterhood wasregarded, Colonel Ashley sought to prevent his little neighbor fromdrawing the fateful pasteboard by craftily shifting the cards in hishand as she was about to take hold of the grim-visaged queen. Geraldinedetected the motion instantly, with deep suspicion misinterpreted hisintention, and laid hold on the card he had manoeuvred to retain. Hercrestfallen dismay betrayed the disaster. With wide, fearfullyprescient eyes she nevertheless gathered all her faculties for the finaleffort. Cautiously holding her two cards under the table, she shiftedthem, interchanged them back and forth, then tremulously permitted himto draw. This done, he placidly placed two fives on the table.

  There was a moment of impressive silence while the "lady" held beforeher eyes in her babyish fingers the single card, and gazed petrified onthe Medusa-like visage of the Old Maid. Then, as a murmur of awe arosefrom the other "ladies," lookin
g pityingly upon her, yet blissful intheir own escape, she burst into tears, and, bowing her golden head inher arms on the table, wept copiously, though softly, silently, mindfulthat Cousin Leonora allowed no "loud whooping in weeps," her littleshoulders shaken by her sobs.

  Colonel Ashley could but laugh as he protested, "This is trulyflattering to masculine vanity." Then, his kindly impulses uppermost,"Come, Miss Geraldine, let's have another round. There must be more OldMaids still hiding out in this crowd. Let's see who they are."

  Adelaide looked alarmed as the stricken one lifted her head to theprospect of the company that misery loves.

  "I wish I was like Cousin Leonora, born a widow-woman," she remarked,regarding the doubtful future askance.

  "Widow-womans can marry,--Aunt Chaney says they can," Geraldinedeclared, as she took up the cards of the new deal.

  "Well, you would speak more properer if you said 'widow-_womens_' than'widow-_womans_,'" rejoined the critical Adelaide, rendered tart by herrenewed jeopardy and the sudden termination of the definite sense ofescape.

  While each player's hand was full of cards, the three queens stillamongst them, the interest was not so tense as the first few draws wentround and Mrs. Gwynn's entrance from the dining room created some stir.

  Baynell and Ashley rose to offer her a chair, and the latter proposed todeal her a hand in the game.

  "Not this round," she returned, "as the game has already commenced.Besides, I am quite chilly. I shall sit by the fire and read the eveningpaper until you play out the hand."

  She seated herself near the fire, shivered once or twice, and held outher dainty fingers to it with exactly the utilitarian manner of someelderly woman, whose house-keeping errands have detained her in thecold, and who extends gnarled, misshapen, chapped, wrinkled hands,soliciting comfort from the warmth. Then she took up the paper and heldthe sheet to catch the lamplight from the centre-table upon it.

  "Why doesn't she put on her 'specs'? She knows she needs them," ColonelAshley said to himself in a sort of whimsical exasperation. Her figurewas slim and girlish, sylphlike as she reclined in the large fauteuil;her hair glittered golden in the flicker of the fire and the sheen ofthe lamp; her face, with its serious expression intent on the closelyprinted columns, might almost seem a sculptor's study of perfect facialsymmetry. Her incongruous indifference, her elderly assumptions,--if,indeed, she was conscious of the effect of her manner,--all betokenedthat she considered it no part of her duty, and certainly no point ofinterest, to entertain young men.

  "We are mere boys to her, Baynell and I; she'll never see her sixtiethbirthday again. I have known younger grandmothers," was Colonel Ashley'sfarcical thought.

  Her nullity of attitude toward him was so complete that she limited thepossibilities of his imagination. He began to devote himself to thegentle pursuit in hand with a freshened ardor.

  Around and around the draw went, almost in absolute silence. Now andagain the tabling of matching cards sounded with the sharp impact oftriumph, but this was growing infrequent as the hands were thusdepleted. The firelight flickered on the incongruous group,--the beardedfaces of the military men, the gold-laced uniforms, with buttonsglimmering like points of light, the infantine softness of the "ladies,"with their fluttering ringlets and gala attire, the gray head andascetic aspect of the judge. The heat had enhanced the odor of a bowlof violets on the table in the centre of the room; as the flames roseand fell, the lion on the rug seemed to stir about, to rouse from hislair.

  Outside the rain still fell in torrents; the tumult of the gush from thegutter hard by gave intimations of great volume of overflow. At longintervals a drop fell hissing down the chimney on the coals where thefire had burned to a white heat. The wind sang like a trump, and fromfar away the reverberations of a train of cars came with a sort ofmuffled sonority that was almost indistinguishable from the vibrationsof the earth. One hardly knew whether the approach of the train was feltor heard.

  "I can't see how a locomotive can keep the rails in such a night asthis," Colonel Ashley remarked, lifting his head to listen. "I hadrather my command would be playing the duck down there in the puddlesthan crossing that half-submerged bridge on that troop train."

  "Are they transporting troops now?" asked Judge Roscoe, casually. He wasa lawyer and knew the general inappropriateness and inadmissibility of aleading question. He had, however, no interest in the response, for thetransit of troops did not necessarily intimate reenforcements to thegarrison, and hence the expectation of attack, but perhaps merely theintention of distant activity.

  Captain Baynell lifted his eyes from his cards, and a glance ofwarning, of upbraiding, flashed into the jovial dark eyes of ColonelAshley. Judge Roscoe perceived it with surprise and a sort ofuncomfortable monition that he and his guest, the son of his cherishedfriend, were in reality in opposition in a most important crisis of thelife of each--in effect, national enemies. He had not thus regardedtheir standpoint, and the idea that this was Baynell's convictionwounded him. He hardly thought the warning glance in his own houseeither necessary or in good form, and he was not ill pleased to subtlyperceive that Ashley secretly resented it.

  "A troop train, I should judge, by the sound," Ashley said hardily, hishead still poised in a listening pose. "Evidently heavily laden; mightbe horses, though," he continued speculatively. He would not submit tobe checked or disciplined into prudential considerations by Baynell,especially as Judge Roscoe must have noted the warning sign, whichitself would tend to convert a simple casual remark into a significantdisclosure. He said to himself that he knew the proper limitations ofconversation, and was the last man in the world to let slip a hint thatmight by any means inform or even prompt the enemy. Moreover, JudgeRoscoe was not deaf, and could distinguish the deep rumble of cars ladenwith troops from the usual sound of the running-gear of a train ofordinary freight and passengers. He went on casually and with anexpansive effect of frankness: "Horses, most probably; there is acavalry regiment in town that has been at the front as dismountedtroops, and I think an order is out for horses for their use as cavalryagain; they have been pressing horses all over the county yesterday andthe day before. Winstead's troopers, you know," he added, addressingBaynell. "I saw him to-day. He says his men all seem pigeon-toed, orweb-footed, or something. They were of no use afoot, although they havedone very well in the saddle."

  "An'--an' did they wear boots on birds' feet an' web-toes?" asked theamazed Geraldine, innocently.

  "Oh--oh, _Ger'ldine_!" screamed the superior Adelaide. "He means walkin'this-a-way," and her hands went across the table in a "toeing-in" gait,illustrative of the defect known as "pigeon toes."

  "Aw--aw--_I_ know now!" said the instructed "lady," wofully out ofcountenance. Then she turned to draw from her neighbor's hand with muchdoubt and circumspection, for the matched pile in the centre was nowlarge and the remaining cards had become few.

  At that moment Mrs. Gwynn glanced up from the paper; she had beenreading an account of a recent spirited skirmish at the front.

  "What is the difference between shrapnel and grape-shot?" she asked ofthe company at large.

  Baynell, the artillery expert, rejoiced to enlighten her. He turned inhis chair and promptly took the word from the others. Few experts cananswer any simple question categorically. Not only did he explain themissiles in question, but also how they had happened to be what theywere, and the earlier stages of their development. He gave his views ontheir relative value and the possibility of their future utility,--allwhile Ashley, who now sat next him, as they had chanced to shift theirchairs when Mrs. Gwynn had entered, waited with quiet and politepatience for him to draw. Baynell did this at haphazard at last, andwhether it was accident or Fate that the significant card waspractically thrust into his heedless hand by the mischievous Ashley, hiscountenance fell at beholding the prognosis of single blessedness, sopalpably, so preposterously, that the jovial Ashley could not restrainhis bantering laughter. Baynell instantly presented the cards to him todraw in turn, but either
favored by luck or having acquired somesurreptitious unfair knowledge of the outer aspect of the card, Ashleyavoided the ill-omened pasteboard, and Baynell was at last left with thesingle card in his hand, while his triumphant friend made the roomriotous with laughter, and the three "ladies" bent compassionate, tendereyes upon him, as if they anticipated the conventional gush of tears.They had grown very fond of him, and deeply felt the disaster that hadbefallen him.

  "Oh, Captain Baynell, never mind! never mind!" cried the inspirationalAdelaide. "_We'll_ marry you! _We'll_ marry you! You needn't be _so_anxious!"

  Once more Ashley's ringing merriment amazed the sympathetic "ladies."

  Lucille cast a burning glance of reproof upon him. Then she held upthree fingers to Captain Baynell to intimate that three brides awaitedhim.

  "Ha! ha!" laughed Ashley. "Here's a settler for Utah, Judge. That'sevidently the place for this fellow 'when this cruel war is over'!"

  Judge Roscoe smilingly watched the benignant, commiserating littlecountenances.

  Adelaide had gone around the table and was hanging on the arm of CaptainBaynell's chair as she proffered consolation.

  "Colonel Ashley wouldn't think it so mighty funny if _he_ had the OldMaid! But _don't_ mind, Captain. Why, _I_ know _Cousin Leonora_ wouldmarry you, if nobody else would,--she always does anything when nobodyelse wants to."

  The silver tones were singularly clear, and for a moment the group satin appalled silence. Ashley did not laugh, though his face was stilldistended with the risible muscles. It was like a laughing mask--theform without the fact. He did not dare even to glance toward the chairwhere Mrs. Gwynn imperturbably perused the war news, nor yet at thestony terror which he felt was petrified on his friend's face. At thatmoment a vivid white light quivered horribly through the room and therepetitious crashing clamor of the thunder was like a cannonade at closequarters. A great fibrous sound of the riving of timber told that a treehard by had been split by the bolt; the torrents descended withredoubled force, and the massive old house seemed to rock.

  And in the moment of comparative quiet a new, strange sound intrudeditself on recognition,--that most uncanny voice, the cry of a horse inthe extremity of terror. It came again and again; at each successivepeal of the thunder and recurrent furious flare of lightning it seemednearer. It had a subterranean effect; and then after the crash offalling objects, as if some barrier had been overthrown, the iterationof unmistakable hoof beats on stone flagging announced that there was ahorse in the cellar.

  This phenomenon obviously indicated an effort to save the animal fromthe impress of horses for army service, which had been in progress fordays and to which Colonel Ashley had alluded. Far away in thewine-cellar, in the safe precincts under the back drawing-room, whichwas rarely used nowadays, the horse had evidently been ensconced, andbut for the storm his presence might have continued indefinitelyundetected. The tremendous conflict of the powers of the air, theunfamiliar place, the loneliness, had stricken the creature with panicfright, and, doubtless hearing human voices in the library, he hadoverthrown temporary obstacles, burst down inadequate doors, andfollowing the genial sound was now stamping and whinnying just beneaththe floor. Colonel Ashley, affecting to note nothing unusual, dealt thecards anew, and commented on the fury of the tempest.

  "I fancy you have lost one of your fine ancestral oaks, Judge. That boltstruck timber with a vengeance."

  "We have the consolation of a prospect of firewood," responded JudgeRoscoe. "But I doubt if it struck only one of the trees."

  "I think I never before saw such a flash as that," remarked Ashley.

  The horse in the cellar protested that _he_ never had. Then he fairlyyelped at a comparatively mild suffusion followed by a dull roar ofthunder, evidently anticipating a renewal of the pyrotechnic horrorsthat had so terrified him.

  Judge Roscoe maintained an imperturbable aspect, despite a certainmortification and a sense of derogation of dignity. He recognized thisas a scheme of old Ephraim's. More than once he had so contrived thedisappearance of the last milch cow that his master possessed as to saveher from the foraging parties bent on beef. Chickens had experiences ofinvisibility that were not fatal, and though the carriage pair and thejudge's saddle-horse had been the victims of surprise,--impressed longago,--the old servant had again and again rescued a beautiful animalthat Mrs. Gwynn owned and which had been a second gift from JudgeRoscoe. Hearing betimes of the press orders from the soldiers, the"double-faced Janus" had besought Judge Roscoe to leave the concealmentof Acrobat to him; and, although only a passive factor in theenterprise, Judge Roscoe, as much surprised at the denouement as any oneelse, was forced to bear the brunt of the lamentable fiasco in which thesecret had become public.

  Baynell, though silent, looked extremely annoyed.

  "This rainfall will raise the river considerably," Ashley commented.

  "Shouldn't be surprised if the lower portions of the town are floodedalready," said Judge Roscoe, throwing out a pair of matched cards.

  "Those precincts are very ill situated," said Ashley.

  The Houyhnhnm in the cellar protested that he was, too.

  "High water must occasion considerable suffering among the poorerclass," rejoined the judge.

  "But the locality could have been easily avoided in laying out RoanokeCity. Draw, Captain--" Ashley broke off suddenly, being forced to remindthe preoccupied Baynell of his turn to supply his hand.

  "The commercial convenience of wharfage at low stages of water wasdoubtless the inducement," explained Judge Roscoe.

  "To be sure,--minimizes the distance for loading freights," assentedAshley.

  "Yes, the drays come to the very decks of the boats."

  "_That_ was a pretty sharp flash," said Ashley.

  "Oh, it was--it was!" whooped the Houyhnhnm from out the cellar. Heevidently executed a sort of intricate passado, to judge from the soundof his hysteric hoofs on the stone flagging.

  "I hope your fine grove will sustain no more casualties," said Ashley.

  "I hope, myself, the house won't be struck," whimpered the speculativeAdelaide.

  "Me, too! Me, too!" cried the horse.

  "Draw, Captain,"--once more Ashley had occasion to rouse the absorbedBaynell.

  At every inapposite, disaffected remark that the horse in the cellar sawfit to interject into the conversation, the twins, evidently well awareof the betrayal of the domestic secret by his loud-voiced intrusion intothe apartment beneath the library, fully apprehending the disaster, atfirst looked aghast at each other, then referred it to the adjustment ofsuperior wisdom by a long, earnest gaze at their grandfather.

  Judge Roscoe could ill sustain the expectation of their childishcomment. But he felt that his dignity was involved in ignoring thataught was amiss. His composure emulated Ashley's resolute placidity andwell-bred, conventional determination to admittedly hear and see naughtthat was not intentionally addressed by his host to his observation.Baynell gave no outward and obvious sign of notice, but the subcurrentof brooding thought that occupied his mind was token of his evidentcomprehension and a nettled annoyance. Perhaps they all felt the relieffrom the tension when Ashley, suddenly glancing toward the window, sawbetween the long red curtains the section of a clearing sky and theglitter of a star.

  "The storm is over," he said. "I think, Judge, we might venture out nowto view the damage. I trust there is not much timber down."

  The three men trooped heavily out into the hall, and suddenly thechallenge of the sentry rang forth, simultaneously with the sound of theapproach of horses' hoofs and the jingle of military accoutrements.Colonel Ashley's groom had bethought himself to bring up his master'scharger in case he should care, since the weather had cleared, to returnto camp. This Ashley preferred, despite Judge Roscoe's cordialinsistence that he could put him up for the night without the slightestinconvenience.

  As Ashley took leave of the family and galloped down the avenue in thechill damp air, and over the spongy turf, now and then constrained toturn asid
e to avoid fallen boughs, he had not even a vague previsionhow short an interval was to elapse before chance should bring him back.His expectation of meeting a charming young lady, with perhaps thesequel of an interesting flirtation, in which all his best qualities assquire of dames should be elicited for the admiration of the fair,--hispreeminence in singing, in quoting poetry, in saying pretty things, inhorsemanship, above all the killing glances of his arch dark eyes, tosay naught of the relish he always experienced in his own excellent poseas a lover, one of his favorite roles,--all had been nullified by Mrs.Gwynn's unresponsiveness. His vanity was touched, upon reflecting on theevents of the evening. He did not feel entreated according to his meritsby her attitude of a faded and elderly widow-woman, and his relegationto the puerilities of the little Old Maids, or little "ladies," orwhatever they called themselves (certainly not the first), with Baynellplaying the stick, and the old judge merely a galvanized Opinion. Heresolved that he would stick to camp hereafter. He knew a game of "Draw"with no Old Maid in the pack, and he would solace his spare time withsuch diversion as it might afford, and look to the drill of hissquadrons.

  Nevertheless the moisture of the storm was scarcely sun-dried the nextafternoon before he was again galloping up the long avenue of the groveand inquiring of old Janus, appropriately playing janitor, if CaptainBaynell were within, as he had some special business with him.

  As on other occasions there was no glimpse or sound of feminine presencein the halls or on the stairs as he followed the old servant up thesoftly padded ascent. He fancied the old negro was much disaffected; hehad a plaintive, remonstrant submissiveness, and a sort of curious,shadowy, aged look that seemed a concomitant of a sullen reproach. Hadthey been beyond earshot of the household, Ashley would have bidden theold man out with his grievance, but naught was said, and presently thedoor of Captain Baynell's bedroom closed upon him.

  "Did you know that Tompkins had sent up here and impressed Mrs. Gwynn'shorse?"

  Baynell had not risen from a seat at an escritoire, where he seemed tohave been writing, and Ashley was half across the room and had flunghimself into a chair before the fire ere his friend could lay down thepen.

  "Yes, I knew it."

  "Why--why--how did he know they had the animal in the cellar? He was uphere the day before yesterday, and that old darkey told him that thehorse had already been pressed into service."

  "He must have been put into the cellar earlier. You know we heard theanimal there last night."

  "Why--why--" Colonel Ashley stammered in his haste--"how did _Tompkins_know?"

  "How?--why, of course I notified him--this morning."

  Vertnor Ashley was altogether inarticulate. Baynell replied to thesurprise in his face.

  "Why--whatever did you think I should do?"

  "Hold your tongue, of course!--as I held mine! Why, I thought you were afriend of these people."

  Baynell looked at him, surprised in turn. "And so I am."

  "And they have been kindness itself to you!"

  "But do they expect me to return their kindness by helping them deceivethe government, or to hold back supplies the army needs? They aremistaken if they do! It is a matter of conscience!"

  "Oh, a _little_ thing like that--" Ashley snapped his fingers--"a lady'shorse!"

  "It is a matter of conscience!" Baynell reiterated.

  "I tell you, my friend, I wouldn't have such a conscience as that in thehouse! It's a selfish beast--a raging monster! exceedingly deadly to theinterests of other folks," Ashley retorted with his bright eyes aglow.

  Baynell glanced out of the great window, with its white, embroideredmuslin curtains, between which he could see the ranges in the distance,Roanoke in the mid-spaces, the white tents of the girdle of encampmentson all the hillsides about the little city; at intervals, held incup-like hollows, were great glittering ponds of water, theaccumulations of the storm, glassing the clouds like mirrors, andrealizing to the eye the geologist's description of the prehistoric dayswhen lakes were here.

  A sudden suspicion was in Ashley's mind. His resolution was taken on theinstant. "I hope you will advance no objection; but I intend to see Mrs.Gwynn and Judge Roscoe, and assure them that _I_ had no part in givingthis information to the quartermaster's department."

  Baynell looked at him with an indignant retort rising to his lips, thenlaughed satirically.

  "Do you imagine I left _you_ under that imputation?"

  "You consider it no imputation, but a duty. Now I don't see my duty inthat light. And I prefer to make my position clear to them."

  Baynell already had his hand on the bell-cord, and it was with pointedalacrity that he gave the order when old Ephraim appeared--"Please sayto Mrs. Gwynn and Judge Roscoe that Colonel Ashley and Captain Baynellwish to speak to them a few minutes on a matter of business if they areat leisure."

  Uncle Ephraim, in whose soul the misadventure about the horse wasrankling deep, surlily assented, closed the door, and took his waydownstairs.

  "I recken _you_ kin speak ter dem," he soliloquized,--"mos' ennythingkin speak hyar. Who'd 'a' thought dat ar horse, dat Ac'obat, would setout ter talk ter de folks in de lawberry, like no four-footed one hev'done since de days ob Balaam's ass. But I ain't never hearn dat de asswas fool enough ter got hisse'f pressed inter de Fed'ral army. 'Fore deLawd, dat horse wish now he had held his tongue an' stayed in dewine-cellar, wid dat good feed, whar I put him."

  Once in the library, the traits which so endeared Vertnor Ashley tohimself, and eke to others, were amply in evidence. He was gentle,deferential, thoroughly straightforward and frank, albeit he saw thesubject was a mortification to Judge Roscoe and abated his sense of hisown dignity; still Ashley gave no offence.

  "I understand. It was a matter of conscience with Captain Baynell," saidJudge Roscoe, seeking to dispose of the question in few words. "I canhave no displeasure against a man for obeying the dictates of his ownconscience, as every man must."

  "Well, I am happy to say I had no conscience in the matter," saidColonel Ashley.

  "Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Gwynn, with her curt, low, icy tone. "We haveindeed fallen on evil times. Captain Baynell has conscience enough todestroy us all, if only he sees fit. And Colonel Ashley, by his ownadmission, has no conscience at all. Between the two we _must_ come togrief."

  "It seems to me a trifle," Ashley persisted smilingly, "brought to myattention accidentally on a hospitable occasion. For aught _I_ knew, youmight have a permit, or the horse might have been a condemned animal,unsound, thus escaping the requisition. I had no orders to investigateyour domestic affairs, nor to search for animals evading the impress.The men detailed to that duty are presumed to be capable of dischargingit."

  "I assure you we have no feeling on that account--no antagonism--" beganJudge Roscoe.

  "I desire you to realize that _nothing_ would have induced me to reportthe presence of the horse here," Ashley interrupted; "though," he added,checking himself, "I do not wish to reflect on Captain Baynell'sprocedure!"

  "He thought himself justified, indeed obligated," interposed JudgeRoscoe.

  "Of course I greatly regretted the necessity, which seemed forced on me,as I saw the matter," said Baynell.

  "I fully appreciate that you take a different view," began Ashley.

  "'O give ye good even. Here's a million of manners,'" quoted Mrs. Gwynn,satirically, smiling from one to the other as each sought to pressforward his own view, yet to cast no reflections on the probity of thestandpoint of the other.

  Judge Roscoe laughed. He was an admirer of what he called"understanding in women," and the mere flavor of a Shakespeariancollocation of words refreshed his spirit like an oasis in a desert.

  Ashley looked at her doubtfully. He wondered that they could forgiveBaynell for this gratuitous bit of official tyranny, as it seemed tohim, and also the serious loss of the value of the horse. He said tohimself that almost any rule is constrained to exceptions. He thoughtBaynell's course was small-minded, unjustifiable, and an ungratefulrequit
al of hospitality, such as only important interests might warrant.He did not reckon on the strength of the attachment which Judge Roscoe,despite politics, had formed for his dear friend's son, or for hisrespect for the coercive force of a man's convictions of therequirements of duty. It was a sort of Brutus-like urgency whichappealed to a high sense of probity and which commended itself to theex-judge, accustomed to deal with subtle differentiations of moralintent as well as intricate principles of sheer law.

  As for Mrs. Gwynn--it was sufficient that she had lost the horse. Shecared too little for either man as an individual to consider thedelicate adjustment of the problem of official integrity involved.

  "I surely should have lost every claim to your good opinion if I hadglozed it over and passed it by for personal reasons," Baynell arguedafter Ashley had gone.

  She looked at him speculatively for an instant, wondering what possibleclaim he could fancy he possessed to her good opinion.

  "If you think impressing a horse is a recommendation, a great manycitizens of this town have cause to hold the quartermaster-general inhigh esteem. A perfect drove of horses passed here this afternoon. Ilooked for Acrobat, but I did not see him."

  He was taken aback at this turn. "But you know, of course, it wasagainst my own will--my own preference--the horse--it was a sacrifice onmy part!"

  "So glad to know it; I thought the sacrifice was mine!"

  He shifted the subject.

  "Judge Roscoe has kindly given me permission to stable here my ownhorses,--not belonging to the service,--and to use the pasture, and Ihope you will ride one that I think is particularly suitable for a lady.Judge Roscoe, to show that he bears no malice, is riding another one toRoanoke City this afternoon."

  She said that she had lost her equestrian tastes. But she listened quitecivilly while he argued the ethics anew, and, as her interest in thesubject had waned with the dissolving view of her horse and she did notcare for the question in the abstract, she did not controvert his theoryor relish placing obstacles to the justification of his course.