Barbara Ladd

by Sir Charles G. D. Roberts

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  Barbara slept little, but lay late, and Glenowen was away aboutbusiness ere she appeared. By the time her caller arrived she wasfairly herself, only subdued in spirit, sorrowful, and homesick. Shehad taken pains, however, that her morning toilet should be becoming;and Jerry Waite thought her pallor, the shadows about her great graveeyes, the wistfulness of her scarlet mouth, even more enchanting thanher radiance and sparkle of the night before.

  "This is most gracious of you, fair lady, to let me come so soon!" hemurmured ecstatically, over the rosy brown tips of her slim fingers."Did the other men but know of it, I should have feared for my life tocome without a guard!"

  Barbara smiled faintly, willing to appreciate his flatteries, but in nomood for badinage and quip.

  "Nay, sir!" she answered, "do not lay it to my graciousness, which isscant to even so charming a gentleman as Mr. Waite, but to mycuriosity, which I acknowledge to be great and insistent. Tell me thiswonderful thing you promised to tell me!"

  Jerry Waite assumed an air of mock supplication.

  "I implore you, dear lady, suffer me for one moment to delude myselfwith the ravishing dream that 'twas for my company, no less than for mystory, that you permitted me to come.-- What, no, not for one momentthe sweet delusion?"

  Barbara shook her head resolutely.

  "No, first deserve favour, before you presume to claim it, sir!" sheretorted. "Earn my grace by a story as interesting as you have led meto expect. Then, perhaps, I may like you well enough to let you stayawhile, for the sake of your company!"

  "So be it, if so the queen decrees!" said Waite. "My little story isabout a duel, of which, as I gathered last night, the fairestbut--pardon me--not always the most gracious of her sex knows a little,but not the most interesting details!"

  "I have heard too much already of this duel!" interrupted Barbara. "Ido not understand how it concerns me!"

  "Oh, lady, this impatience of yours!" said Waite, watching her keenly."How can you expect to understand the manner in which it concerns you,if you will not let any one tell you the story? I stand pledged tomake the story interesting on pain of forfeiting your good will!"

  "Well," agreed Barbara, with seeming reluctance. In very truth she wastrembling with eagerness for him to go on. "But, I pray you, be asbrief as is consistent with justice to your claim as a narrator!"

  "I will be most brief!" said Waite. "For the merit lies in the storyitself, not in the fashion of the telling. Yesterday, a little afterthe noon hour, some half-score gentlemen were gathered by chance inPym's Ordinary, where many of us frequent for the latest bit of gossip.There was talk of this, that, and the other, but most of the charms ofa lady whom we know and reverence--"

  "Who was she?" asked Barbara.

  But Waite, intent upon his story, paid no heed.

  "The praises, the compliments, the eulogiums," he went on, "that wereheaped upon this magical name seemed to show that every man was at herfeet. All but Carberry. Captain Carberry is a chill-souled, carping,sarcastical fellow, and arrogant withal, by reason of the unmatchedagility of his blade. It had pleased him to be displeased by certainsweet, if a trifle pungent, sprightlinesses of the lady in question;and now his comments ran sharply counter to those of the rest of thecompany. He did not admire her at all,--which was, of course, withinhis undoubted rights, however it discredited his taste. But presentlyhis criticisms became a trifle harsher than was fitting; and there wasa moment of uneasy silence. Then, clear upon the silence, Gaultspoke,--Gault, who had hitherto been listening without a word.

  "'Carberry,' said he, quietly, 'you have said just enough. One wordmore will be too much!'

  "Every one held his breath. There was an ugly look about Gault'smouth, and we trembled for him. He is liked, you know; while Carberry,a man ten years older, is feared. Carberry looked Bob over, with asupercilious smile, which meant mischief, as we knew, and then drawledslowly:

  "'I shall say whatever it may please me to say about that damnedlittle--' But no one was to hear the sentence finished. We can neverhave our curiosity certainly satisfied as to that word, which just thengot smashed beyond recognition behind Carberry's teeth. It wasprobably not so very bad a word, if the truth were known. Bob wastaking no risks on that score. His blow was straight as a bullet; andCarberry went sprawling over two chairs and a table.

  "When he picked himself up he was quite cool,--collected andbusinesslike. That we knew to be his deadly way, and we trembled forBob. Bob, however, seemed as easy in his mind as Carberry. The two ofthem, indeed, were so deuced civil you might have thought they werearranging to marry each other's sisters. There was no time lost, youmay be sure. Seconds were chosen, terms agreed upon, a doctor sentfor, and we promptly made up a little pleasure party to the woods.

  "As for the fight, dear lady, I spare your gentle soul the details. Itlacked just one element of interest to the connoisseur,--bothcombatants fought in one fashion. There was no contrast, such as onemight have expected between a boy of twenty-three and a veteran ofthirty-six. At the very first Carberry had attacked with fury,--butwhen he felt the quality of Bob's wrist he saw it was not a case forbluster, and settled down to business. Both fought smiling, alikecool, wary, dangerous, sure of the result. Where and when Bob learnedit, we none of us knew. He is a queer, reticent chap in some ways.But learned it he had,--and I, who like to study faces, saw the tingeof surprise in Carberry's face pass to admiration. His rage wasforgotten in the exhilaration of his favourite game. I never againexpect to see two blades so nicely matched. The excitement to uswatchers grew intense, till our knees felt weak. But they two seemedas fresh as when they started.

  "At last--'a touch!" said Carberry,--and then, by the slight hissing ofthe words between his teeth I realised the strain.

  "'Not at all!' answered Robert,--and his words, too, came hissingly,for all the easy smile upon his lips. Then both grew white. And for afew minutes there was no change. And it seemed to us that our eyescould follow the blades no longer. And then--for the life of me Icould not see how it happened--a red stain came on the shoulder ofBob's shirt; and in the next second Carberry, letting his sword fall,dropped in a heap.

  "Before we could recover our astonishment, Robert and the doctortogether were bending over the wounded man, and had his shirt rippedopen. 'I've got it, eh?' said Carberry, faintly. 'A fair, cleanthrust, an' served me damn well right!' And he held out his hand toBob,--who grasped it with both his, and looked now, all of a sudden,like a boy ready to cry.

  "'Stuff and nonsense, Captain!' exclaimed the doctor. 'You've not gotyour quietus with _this_ bare bodkin. You'll be all right, sound asever, in a month, a fortnight maybe!'

  "'Thank God!' cried Robert.

  "'My sentiments exactly!' said Carberry, his voice stronger with theknowledge that he was not dying. 'Gault, my compliments, with my bestapologies! Great sword, my boy, great--' and with that he swooned fromthe pain and loss of blood. And we, very happy that all had ended sohappily, got him to the coach, and so home. And the rest, dearMistress Ladd, you know!"

  "A mighty interesting story, I admit!" said Barbara. "But still I ask,of what especial, immediate interest to me?"

  Waite looked at her curiously. Was it possible she could be so blind?But her wide eyes were innocent of all comprehension. It suddenlyoccurred to him that, new come to town as she was, she found itimpossible to imagine _her_ name the theme of tongues. He began tounderstand.

  "You know the lady," said he, and paused.

  "Well, sir, 'tis possible. I have met many in the few days that I havebeen in New York. What is her name--since you seem to hold it animportant matter."

  "Her name, dear lady--her name is one that stirs a thrill of admiringhomage in all our hearts. It is--_Mistress Barbara Ladd_!"

  Barbara caught her breath, and her eyes dilated.

  "What?" she cried, though she had heard quite clearly.

  "Her name is Mistress Barbara Ladd!" repeat
ed Jerry Waite.

  "Oh, Mr. Waite. No! No! Don't tell me it was on my account thatRobert fought. Impossible! He might have been killed! And Ithought--" but she stopped herself in time, without saying what it wasshe had thought.

  Jerry Waite became serious.

  "It seems to me, dear lady, that your thought, whatever it was, didGault an injustice," said he, gently. "And that is my explanation. AmI forgiven?"

  Barbara conquered her distress. This was the easier--after the firstpang of remorse--because the fact that Robert had not failed her soonovertopped in her mind the fact that she had failed Robert. Thatunknown woman--the hateful vision vanished in a burst of light. Theache of loss was healed in her heart. She was reinstated, too, in herself-esteem. New York grew bright again. Her conquests were once moreworth while. Robert should behold them all,--and be one of them,--themost subjugated of them all. At last her face grew radiant,--her eyesdancing, her teeth flashing, her mouth the reddest rose, her clearbrown cheeks softly aflush.

  "Yes, indeed, Mr. Waite," she cried, holding out her hand. "It is abeautiful story, and wins you a very high place in my regard. You maystay and talk to me till dinner-time, if you like; and then my unclewill be glad to have you dine with us!"

  The first part of the invitation Waite accepted with alacrity, andcursed himself bitterly that he had an engagement to prevent himstaying for dinner. In the conversation that followed Barbara gainedhim and chained him fast, not as a mad, intoxicated lover, but as oneof the best and most loyal of her friends. But the moment he was goneshe rushed to her scrutoir and in fierce haste scribbled a note. Itran:

  "DEAR ROBERT:--I did not understand at all. I thought something quitedifferent from the truth. I have just found out about things. Pleasecome and talk to me till dinner-time, if you like; and then let me tellyou how perfectly horrid I think myself.

  "BARBARA."

  This she sealed with a care that contrasted curiously with the hastewith which she had written it. Then she called her maid and sent itaround to the stately-doorwayed office on Bowling Green.

  The answer that came was merely a bunch of dark red roses, with never awritten word; but Barbara found it quite satisfactory. To Robert itwould have seemed superfluous to have said he would come. Barbara madeher toilet with especial care, selecting everything with a view tomaking herself look as nearly as possible like the Barbara of the oldSecond Westings days. As she surveyed herself in the glass, she wasastonished at the result. Had she really put the hands of time backfive years? As she remembered, she had looked just so on the afternoonwhen Robert came, and found her in the apple-tree reading "Clarissa."It was three o'clock already,--and Robert had been waiting already halfan hour in the drawing-room below,--but she took yet a few minutes morefor a finishing touch. She basted up a deep tuck in herpetticoat,--about half an inch off for each year blotted from hercalendar,--and then, with flaming eyes and mouth wreathed in laughter,she ran down to receive her guest. It was the direct obverse of themeeting she had planned.

  "Did you ride over, Robert? Or did you come in the canoe?" she asked,as if she had but that moment jumped down out of the apple-tree.

  "Barbara!" he cried, and seized and kissed both hands.

  "I was beginning to fear that you had forgotten the way to SecondWestings!" she went on, in gay reproach. "Why, it is _weeks_ since youwere over; and the young catbirds in the currant bush have grown theirwings and flown; and the goldenrod's in flower; and the 'EarlyHarvests' are beginning to turn red on the old apple-tree over by thegate; and how will you explain your long absence, sir, to Aunt Hitty,and Doctor John, and Doctor Jim, I'd like to know!"

  Robert was devouring her with his eyes as she spoke. "Oh, you doindeed look just as you did that day I found you in the apple-tree!" hecried, at last. "So weary long ago,--yet now, sweet lady, it seems butnow!"

  "Let us play it is but now," laughed Barbara.

  "Yes," said Robert,--"but _please_ don't send me right away to DoctorJim, as you did that morning! I will try not to incur yourdispleasure. And don't be in such a hurry to get back to 'Clarissa' asyou were then!"

  So all the afternoon they talked the language and the themes of SecondWestings, with the difference that Barbara was all graciousness,instead of her old mixture of acid and sweet. And when Glenowen camein to supper he was admitted to the game, and played it with a relish.And when, after supper, the three went riding, they took what theyswore to be the Westings Landing Road,--though certain of thelandmarks, as they could not but agree, looked unfamiliar. Almost theypersuaded themselves that on their return they might entreat MistressMehitable to brew them a sack posset.

  It was not till three days later, when Robert was begging more than hisshare of dances for a ball to be given that night at Government House,that Barbara explained--lightly and laughingly, but in a way thatsuffered Robert to understand--her quite inadequate reasons for havingtreated him so cavalierly on the evening after his duel.