Starlight Ranch, and Other Stories of Army Life on the Frontier

by Charles King

  CHAPTER III.

  "AMANTIUM IRAE."

  Lovely as is West Point in May, it is hardly the best time for a visitthere if one's object be to see the cadets. From early morn until lateat night every hour is taken up with duties, academic or military.Mothers, sisters, and sweethearts, whose eyes so eagerly follow theevolutions of the gray ranks, can only hope for a few words betweendrill and dress parade, or else in the shortest half-hour in all theworld,--that which intervenes 'twixt supper and evening "call toquarters." That Miss Nannie McKay should make frequent and unfavorablecomment on this state of affairs goes without saying; yet, had she beenenabled to see her beloved brother but once a month and her cadetfriends at intervals almost as rare, that incomprehensible young damselwould have preferred the Point to any other place in the world.

  It was now ten days since her arrival, and she had had perhaps threechats with Willy, who, luckily for him, though he could not realize it,was spending most of his time "confined to quarters," and consequentlyout of much of the temptation he would otherwise have been in. Mrs.McKay had been able to see very little more of the young man, but shehad the prayerful consolation that if he could only be kept out ofmischief a few days longer he would then be through with it all, out ofdanger of dismissal, actually graduated, and once more her own boy tomonopolize as she chose.

  It takes most mothers a long, long time to become reconciled to thecomplete usurpation of all their former rights by this new parent whomtheir boys are bound to serve,--this anything but _Alma_ Mater,--the warschool of the nation. As for Miss Nan, though she made it a point todeclaim vigorously at the fates that prevented her seeing more of herbrother, it was wonderful how well she looked and in what blithe spiritsshe spent her days. Regularly as the sun came around, before guard-mountin the morning and right after supper in the evening, she was sure to beon the south piazza of the old hotel, and when presently the cadetuniforms began to appear at the hedge, she, and others, would gotripping lightly down the path to meet the wearers, and then wouldfollow the half-hour's walk and chat in which she found such infinitedelight. So, too, could Mr. Stanley, had he been able to appear as herescort on all occasions; but despite his strong personal inclination andeffort, this was by no means the case. The little lady was singularlyimpartial in the distribution of her time, and only by being firstapplicant had he secured to himself the one long afternoon that had yetbeen vouchsafed them,--the cadet half-holiday of Saturday.

  But if Miss Nan found time hanging heavily on her hands at other hoursof the day, there was one young lady at the hotel who did not,--a younglady whom, by this time, she regarded with constantly deepeninginterest,--Miriam Stanley.

  Other girls, younger girls, who had found their ideals in the cadetgray, were compelled to spend hours of the twenty-four in waiting forthe too brief _half_-hour in which it was possible to meet them; butMiss Stanley was very differently situated. It was her first visit tothe Point. She met, and was glad to meet, all Philip's friends andcomrades; but it was plainly to be seen, said all the girls at Craney's,that between her and the tall cavalry officer whom they best knewthrough cadet descriptions, there existed what they termed an"understanding," if not an engagement. Every day, when not prevented byduties, Mr. Lee would come stalking up from barracks, and presently awaythey would stroll together,--a singularly handsome pair, as every oneadmitted. One morning soon after the Stanleys' arrival he appeared insaddle on his stylish bay, accompanied by an orderly leading anotherhorse, side-saddled; and then, as by common impulse, all the girlspromenading the piazzas, as was their wont, with arms entwining eachother's waists, came flocking about the south steps. When Miss Stanleyappeared in her riding-habit and was quickly swung up into saddle by hercavalier, and then, with a bright nod and smile for the entire group,she gathered the reins in her practised hand and rode briskly away, thesentiments of the fair spectators were best expressed, perhaps, in theremark of Miss McKay,--

  "What a shame it is that the cadets can't ride! I mean can'tride--_that_ way," she explained, with suggestive nod of her curly headtowards the pair just trotting out upon the road around the Plain. "Theyride--lots of them--better than most of the officers."

  "Mr. Stanley for instance," suggests a mischievous little minx withhazel eyes and laughter-loving mouth.

  "Yes, Mr. Stanley, or Mr. Pennock, or Mr. Burton, or a dozen others Icould name, not excepting my brother," answers Miss Nan, stoutly,although those readily flushing cheeks of hers promptly throw out theirsignals of perturbation. "Fancy Mr. Lee vaulting over his horse at thegallop as they do."

  "And yet Mr. Lee has taught them so much more than other instructors.Several cadets have told me so. He always does, first, everything herequires them to do; so he must be able to make that vault."

  "Will doesn't say so by any means," retorts Nannie, with something verylike a pout; and as Will is a prime favorite with the entire party andthe centre of a wide circle of interest, sympathy, and anxiety in thosegirlish hearts, their loyalty is proof against opinions that may notcoincide with his. "Miss Mischief" reads temporary defeat in the circleof bright faces and is stung to new effort,--

  "Well! there are cadets whose opinions you value quite as much as you doyour brother's, Nannie, and they have told me."

  "Who?" challenges Miss Nan, yet with averted face. Thrice of late shehas disagreed with Mr. Stanley about Willy's troubles; has said thingsto him which she wishes she had left unsaid; and for two days now he hasnot sought her side as heretofore, though she knows he has been at thehotel to see his sister, and a little bird has told her he had a longtalk with this same hazel-eyed girl. She wants to know more aboutit,--yet does not want to ask.

  "Phil Stanley, for one," is the not unexpected answer.

  Somebody who appears to know all about it has written that when a girlis beginning to feel deep interest in a man she will say thingsdecidedly detrimental to his character solely for the purpose of havingthem denied and for the pleasure of hearing him defended. Is it thisthat prompts Miss McKay to retort?--

  "Mr. Stanley cares too little what his classmates think, and too much ofwhat Mr. Lee may say or do."

  "Mr. Stanley isn't the only one who thinks a deal of Lieutenant Lee," isthe spirited answer. "Mr. Burton says he is the most popular tacticalofficer here, and many a cadet--good friends of your brother's,Nannie--has said the same thing. You don't like him because Willdoesn't."

  "I wouldn't like or respect any officer who reports cadets onsuspicion," is the stout reply. "If he did that to any one else I woulddespise it as much as I do because Willy is the victim."

  The discussion is waxing hot. "Miss Mischief's" blood is up. She likesPhil Stanley; she likes Mr. Lee; she has hosts of friends in the corps,and she is just as loyal and quite as pronounced in her views as herlittle adversary. They are fond of each other, too, and were great chumsall through the previous summer; but there is danger of a quarrelto-day.

  "I don't think you are just in that matter at all, Nannie. I have heardcadets say that if they had been in Mr. Lee's place or onofficer-of-the-day duty they would have had to give Will that report youtake so much to heart. Everybody knows his voice. Half the corps heardhim call out to Mr. Pennock."

  "I don't believe a single cadet who's a friend of Will's would say sucha thing," bursts in Miss Nan, her eyes blazing.

  "He is a friend, and a warm friend, too."

  "You said there were several, Kitty, and I don't believe it possible."

  "Well. There were two or three. If you don't believe it, you can ask Mr.Stanley. _He_ said it, and the others agreed."

  Fancy the mood in which she meets him this particular evening, when hiscard was brought to her door. Twice has "Miss Mischief" essayed to enterthe room and "make up." Conscience has been telling her savagely that inthe impulse and sting of the moment she has given an unfair coloring tothe whole matter. Mr. Stanley had volunteered no such remark as that sheso vehemently quoted. Asked point blank whether he considered as given"on suspicion" the report which Mrs. McKa
y and Nannie so resented, hereplied that he did not; and, when further pressed, he said that Willalone was blamable in the matter: Mr. Lee had no alternative, if it wasMr. Lee who gave the report, and any other officer would have beencompelled to do the same. All this "Miss Mischief" would gladly haveexplained to Nannie could she have gained admission, but the latter "hada splitting headache," and begged to be excused.

  It has been such a lovely afternoon. The halls were filled with cadets"on permit," when she came out from the dining-room, but nothing butill-luck seemed to attend her. The young gentleman who had invited herto walk to Fort Putnam, most provokingly twisted an ankle at cavalrydrill that very morning, and was sent to hospital. _Now_, if Mr. Stanleywere all devotion, he would promptly tender his services as substitute.Then she could take him to task and punish him for his disloyalty toWill. But Mr. Stanley was not to be seen: "Gone off with another girl,"was the announcement made to her by Mr. Werrick, a youth who dearlyloved a joke, and who saw no need of explaining that the other girl washis own sister. Sorely disappointed, yet hardly knowing why, sheaccepted her mother's invitation to go with her to the barracks whereWill was promenading the area on what Mr. Werrick called "one of hisperennial punishment tours." She went, of course; but the distant sightof poor Will, duly equipped as a sentry, dismally tramping up and downthe asphalt, added fuel to the inward fire that consumed her. Themother's heart, too, yearned over her boy,--a victim to cruelregulations and crueler task-masters. "What was the use of thegovernment's enticing young men away from their comfortable homes," Mrs.McKay had once indignantly written, "unless it could make them happy?"It was a question the "tactical department" could not answer, but itthought volumes.

  But now evening had come, and with it Mr. Stanley's card. Nan's heartgave a bound, but she went down-stairs with due deliberation. She hadhis card in her hand as she reached the hall, and was twisting it in herfingers. Yes. There he stood on the north piazza, Pennock with him, andone or two others of the graduating class. They were chatting laughinglywith Miss Stanley, "Miss Mischief," a bevy of girls, and a matron ortwo, but she knew well his eyes would be on watch for her. They were. Hesaw her instantly; bowed, smiled, but, to her surprise, continued hisconversation with a lady seated near the door. What could it mean?Irresolute she stood there a moment, waiting for him to come forward;but though she saw that twice his eyes sought hers, he was still bendingcourteously and listening to the voluble words of the somewhat elderlydame who claimed his attention. Nan began to rebel against that womanfrom the bottom of her heart. What was she to do? Here was his card. Inresponse she had come down to receive him. She meant to be very coolfrom the first moment; to provoke him to inquiry as to the cause of suchunusual conduct, and then to upbraid him for his disloyalty to herbrother. She certainly meant that he should feel the weight of herdispleasure; but then--then--after he had been made to suffer, if he wasproperly contrite, and said so, and looked it, and begged to beforgiven, why then, perhaps she might be brought to condone it in ameasure and be good friends again. It was clearly his duty, however, tocome and greet her, not hers to go to the laughing group. The old ladywas the only one among them whom she did not know,--a new arrival. Justthen Miss Stanley looked round, saw her, and signalled smilingly to herto come and join them. Slowly she walked towards the little party, stilltwirling the card in her taper fingers.

  "Looking for anybody, Nan?" blithely hails "Miss Mischief." "Who is it?I see you have his card."

  For once Nannie's voice fails her, and she knows not what to say. Beforeshe can frame an answer there is a rustle of skirts and a lightfoot-fall behind her, and she hears the voice of a girl whom she neverhas liked one bit.

  "Oh! You're here, are you, Mr. Stanley! Why, I've been waiting at leasta quarter of an hour. Did you send up your card?"

  "I did; full ten minutes ago. Was it not brought to your room?"

  "No, indeed! I've been sitting there writing, and only came down becauseI had promised Mr. Fearn that he should have ten minutes, and it isnearly his time now. Where do you suppose they could have sent it?"

  Poor little Nan! It has been a hard day for her, but this is just toomuch. She turns quickly, and, hardly knowing whither she goes, dodgespast the party of cadets and girls now blocking the stairway andpreventing flight to her room, hurries out the south door and around tothe west piazza, and there, leaning against a pillar, is striving tohide her blazing cheeks,--all in less than a minute.

  Stanley sees through the entire situation with the quick intuition of alover. She has not treated him kindly of late. She has been capriciousand unjust on several occasions, but there is no time to think of thatnow. She is in distress, and that is more than enough for him.

  "Here comes Mr. Fearn himself to claim his walk, so I will go and findout about the card," he says, and blesses that little rat of a bell-boyas he hastens away.

  Out on the piazza he finds her alone, yet with half a dozen peoplehovering nigh. The hush of twilight is over the beautiful old Point. Themoist breath of the coming night, cool and sweet, floats down upon themfrom the deep gorges on the rugged flank of Cro' Nest, and rises fromthe thickly lacing branches of the cedars on the river-bank below. Aflawless mirror in its grand and reflected framework of cliff and cragand beetling precipice, the Hudson stretches away northward unruffled bythe faintest cat's-paw of a breeze. Far beyond the huge blackbattlements of Storm King and the purpled scaur of Breakneck the nightlights of the distant city are twinkling through the gathering darkness,and tiny dots of silvery flame down in the cool depths beneath themreflect the faint glimmer from the cloudless heaven where--

  "The sentinel stars set their watch in the sky."

  The hush of the sacred hour has fallen on every lip save those of themerry party in the hall, where laugh and chatter and flaring gas-lightbid defiance to influences such as hold their sway over souls broughtface to face with Nature in this, her loveliest haunt on earth.

  Phil Stanley's heart is throbbing as he steps quickly to her side. Well,indeed, she knows his foot-fall; knows he is coming; almost knows _why_he comes. She is burning with a sense of humiliation, wounded pride,maidenly wrath, and displeasure. All day long everything has gone agley.Could she but flee to her room and hide her flaming cheeks and cry herheart out, it would be relief inexpressible, but her retreat is cut off.She cannot escape. She cannot face those keen-eyed watchers in thehall-ways. Oh! it is almost maddening that she should have been so--sofooled! Every one must know she came down to meet Phil Stanley when hiscard was meant for another girl,--that girl of all others! All aflamewith indignation as she is, she yet means to freeze him if she can onlycontrol herself.

  "Miss Nannie," he murmurs, quick and low, "I see that a blunder has beenmade, but I don't believe the others saw it. Give me just a few minutes.Come down the walk with me. I cannot talk with you here--now, and thereis so much I want to say." He bends over her pleadingly, but her eyesare fixed far away up the dark wooded valley beyond the white shafts ofthe cemetery, gleaming in the first beams of the rising moon. She makesno reply for a moment. She does not withdraw them when finally sheanswers, impressively,--

  "Thank you, Mr. Stanley, but I must be excused from interfering withyour engagements."

  "There is no engagement now," he promptly replies; "and I greatly wantto speak with you. Have you been quite kind to me of late? Have I not aright to know what has brought about the change?"

  "You do not seem to have sought opportunity to inquire,"--very cool anddignified now.

  "Pardon me. Three times this week I have asked for a walk, and you havehad previous engagements."

  She has torn to bits and thrown away the card that was in her hand. Nowshe is tugging at the bunch of bell buttons, each graven with themonogram of some cadet friend, that hangs as usual by its tiny goldenchain. She wants to say that he has found speedy consolation in thesociety of "that other girl" of whom Mr. Werrick spoke, but not for theworld would she seem jealous.

  "You could have seen me this afternoon, had there
been any matters youwished explained," she says. "I presume you were more agreeablyoccupied."

  "I find no delight in formal visits," he answers, quietly; "but mysister wished to return calls and asked me to show her about the post."

  Then it was his sister. Not "that other girl!" Still she must not lethim see it makes her glad. She needs a pretext for her wrath. She mustmake him feel it in some way. This is not at all in accordance with themental private rehearsals she has been having. There is still thatdireful matter of Will's report for "shouting from window of barracks,"and "Miss Mischief's" equally direful report of Mr. Stanley's remarksthereon.

  "I thought you were a loyal friend of Willy's," she says, turningsuddenly upon him.

  "I was--and am," he answers simply.

  "And yet I'm told you said it was all his own fault, and that youyourself would have given him the report that so nearly 'found him ondemerit.' A report on suspicion, too," she adds, with scorn in her tone.

  Mr. Stanley is silent a moment.

  "You have heard a very unfair account of my words," he says at last. "Ihave volunteered no opinions on the subject. In answer to directquestion I have said that it was not justifiable to call that a reporton suspicion."

  "But you said you would have given it yourself."

  "I said that, as officer of the day, I would have been compelled to doso. I could not have signed my certificate otherwise."

  She turns away in speechless indignation. What makes it all well-nighintolerable is that he is by no means on the defensive. He is patient,gentle, but decidedly superior. Not at all what she wanted. Not at alleager to explain, argue, or implore. Not at all the tearful penitent shehas pictured in her plans. She must bring him to a realizing sense ofthe enormity of his conduct. Disloyalty to Will is treason to her.

  "And yet--you say you have kept, and that you value, that knot of blueribbon that I gave you--or that you took--last summer. I did not supposethat you would so soon prove to be--no friend to Willy, or----"

  "Or what, Miss Nannie?" he asks. His face is growing white, but hecontrols the tremor in his voice. She does not see. Her eyes aredowncast and her face averted now, but she goes on desperately.

  "Well, never mind _that_ now; but it seems to me that such friendshipis--simply worthless."

  She has taken the plunge and said her say, but the last words are spokenwith sinking inflection, followed instantly by a sinking heart. He makesno answer whatever. She dares not look up into his face to see theeffect of her stab. He stands there silent only an instant; then raiseshis cap, turns, and leaves her.

  Sunday comes and goes without a sight of him except in the line ofofficers at parade. That night she goes early to her room, and on thebureau finds a little box securely tied, sealed, and addressed to her inhis well-known hand. It contains a note and some soft object carefullywrapped in tissue-paper. The note is brief enough:

  "It is not easy to part with this, for it is all I have that was yoursto give, but even this must be returned to you after what you said lastnight.

  "Miss Nannie, you may some time think more highly of my friendship foryour brother than you do now, and then, perhaps, will realize that youwere very unjust. Should that time come I shall be glad to have thisagain."

  It was hardly necessary to open the little packet as she did. She knewwell enough it could contain only that

  "Knot of ribbon blue."