XI
CURTIS GRAPPLES WITH BRISBANE
The hearing took place at ten o'clock, but Curtis had opportunity for alittle helpful consultation with Lawson before the chairman called thecommitteemen to order. The session seemed unimportant--perfunctory. Themembers sat for the most part silent, ruminating, with eyes fixed on thewalls or upon slips of paper which they held abstractedly in theirhands. Occasionally some one of them would rouse up to ask a question,but, in general, their attitudes were those of bored and preoccupiedbusiness men. They came and went carelessly in response to calls oftheir clerks, and Curtis perceived that they had very little realinterest in the life or death of the redmen. He would have beenprofoundly discouraged had not the chairman been alert and his questionsto the point. After his formal statement had been taken and the hearingwas over, the chairman approached Curtis informally and showed a veryhuman sympathy for the Tetongs.
"Yes, I think we can hold this raid in check," he said, in answer toCurtis, and added, slowly, "I am very glad to find a man of your qualitytaking up this branch of service." He paused, and a smile wrinkled hislong, Scotch face. "They accuse me of being a weak sentimentalist,because I refuse to consider the redman in the light of a reptile. I wasan abolitionist"--the smile faded from his eyes and his thin lipsstraightened--"in days when it meant something to defend the negro, andin standing for the rights of the redman I am merely continuing mylife-work. It isn't a question of whether I know the Indian or not,though I know him better than most of my critics; it's a question of hisdues under our treaties. We considered him a man when we bought hisland, and I insist he shall be treated the same now. I should like tohear from you--unofficially, of course--whenever you have anything tosay. Lawson's testimony"--he laid a caressing hand on Lawson'sshoulder--"is worth more to me than that of a thousand land speculators.He's a comfort to us, for we know he is disinterested, and has nothingto gain or lose in any question which concerns the reds, and we findvery much the same about you, Captain Curtis, and I am determined thatyou shall have free hand."
Curtis shook hands with the old man with a sense of security. Here, atleast, was a senator of the old school, a man to be depended upon intime of trouble. He began also to realize Lawson's power, for he seemedto be the personal friend of every honest official connected with thedepartment.
As the two young men stepped out into the hall they came face to facewith Elsie and her father.
"Are we too late?" cried the girl. "Is the hearing over?"
"My part of it is," answered Curtis--"at least for to-day. They mayrecall me to-morrow."
Brisbane was visibly annoyed. "I didn't suppose you would come on tilleleven; that's the word I got over the 'phone. I particularly wanted tohear your deposition," he added, sourly.
"Papa has an idea your opposition to this bill is important," Elsiesaid, lightly, as Curtis edged away from Brisbane.
Brisbane followed him up. "Well, now that your hearing is over, supposeyou get into our carriage and go home with us to lunch?'
"Please do!" said Elsie, with flattering sincerity.
Curtis hesitated, and was made captive. "It is a great temptation," hesaid, looking at Lawson.
Elsie saw him yielding and cried out: "Oh, you must come--and you, too,Osborne."
Lawson was plainly defeated. "I can't do it. I have a couple of New Yorkmen to lunch at the club, and I couldn't think of putting them off."
"Oh, I'm so sorry; we would have made a nice little lunch party."
"There are other days coming!" he replied, as lightly as possible.
As they drove away Curtis had a premonition that his impending interviewwould be disagreeable, for Brisbane sat in silence, his keen eyes fullof some sinister resolution. He was, in fact, revolving in his mind aplan of attack. He realized the danger of attempting to bribe such a maneven indirectly, but a poor and ambitious soldier might be removed bygentler means, through promotion; and friendly pressure might be broughtto bear on the War Department to that effect. Having set himself to thetask of clearing the reservation of the Tetongs, a man of Brisbane'spower did not hesitate long over the morality of methods, and havingdecided upon promotion as his method of approaching Curtis, the old mandistinctly softened, and made himself agreeable by extending the driveand affably pointing out the recent improvements in the city. "OurCapitol is as good as any now," he said. "Our new buildings are up tothe standard."
The young soldier refused to be drawn into any blood-heatingdiscussions, being quite content to sit facing Elsie, feeling obscurelythe soft roll of the wheels beneath him, and absorbing the light andcolor of the streets. "This is my city," he said; "I spent my boyhood,here. I went to West Point from here."
"It _is_ beautiful," replied Elsie, and at the moment a spark of somemysterious flame sprang from each to the other. They were young, and theair was soft and sweet. Thereafter everything gave the young soldierpleasure. The whistling of the darkies, the gay garments of theshoppers, the glitter of passing carriages, the spread of trees againstthe bright sky--everything assumed a singular grace. His courage rose,and he felt equal to any task.
As they entered the big house Elsie said: "You're to come right up tothe studio. I want to show you a canvas I finished yesterday. I had aninspiration--I think you brought it to me."
As she led the way up the wide and splendidly carved stair-way thesoldier's elation sank away, for each step emphasized the girl's prideand power, and by contrast threw the poor Indian agent into hopelessshadow. He hardly heard what she said, till she led him before her easeland said:
"There is yesterday's work. I've been trying for days to get a certaineffect of color, and, behold! I caught it flying this morning. Whatpuzzles me in your country is the enormously high value of your earth inreference to the sky. The sky is so solid."
As he took in the significance of the canvas Curtis exclaimed:
"It is very beautiful. It is miraculous. How do you do it?"
"I'm glad you like it. My problem there was to represent the differencein value between Chief Elk, who is riding in the vivid sunlight, and hiswife and Little Peta, who are just in the edge of that purplecloud-shadow. The difference between white in sunlight and white inshadow is something terrific in your dry air. Contrasts are enough toknock you down. This gray, Eastern studio light makes all my sketchesseem false, but I know they are not."
"They are very true, it seems to me."
"When I close my eyes and hark back to the flooding light of the valleyof the Elk, then I can do these things; I can't if I don't. I have toforget all my other pictures. This is nearer my impression than anythingelse I've done."
"It has great charm," he said, after a pause, "and it also reminds me ofmy duty. I must return at once to the West."
"When do you go--actually?"
"Actually, I leave to-morrow at three o'clock; unless I receive word tothe contrary, to-morrow morning."
"So soon? You are making a very short stay. Can't you remain over theholidays? Some friends of mine are coming on from New York. I'd likeyou to meet them."
"I think I must return. Jennie is preparing to give her little 'Ingines'a Christmas-tree, and I am told that my 'Sandy Claws' would add greatlyto their joy, so I am making special effort to reach there on the 23d."
She looked at him musingly. "You really are interested in those uglycreatures? I don't understand it."
"To be really frank, I don't understand your lack of sympathy," hereplied, smiling a little. "It isn't at all feminine."
She took a seat on the divan before she spoke again. "Oh, women are suchposers. You think I am quite heartless, don't you?"
"No, I don't think that, but I do think you are a little unjust to thesepeople, whose thought you have made very little effort to comprehend."
"Why should I? They are not worth while."
"Do you speak now as an artist?" he asked, gravely.
"But they are so gross and so cruel!"
"I don't deny but they are, sometimes, both gross and cru
el, but so arecivilized men. The scalp-dance no more represents them than a bayonetcharge represents us. It isn't just to condemn all for the faults of afew. You wouldn't destroy servant-girls because some of them are uglyand untidy, would you?"
"The cases are not precisely similar."
"I'll admit that, but the point is here: as an artist you can't affordto dispose of a race on the testimony of their hereditary enemies. Youwouldn't expect a sympathetic study of the Greek by the Saracen, wouldyou?"
"It isn't that so much, but they are so perfectly unimportant. They haveno use in the world. What does it matter if they die, or don't?"
"Perhaps not so much to them; but to me, if I can help them and fail todo it, it matters a great deal. We can't afford to be unjust, for ourown sake. The bearer of the torch should not burn, he should illumine."
"I don't understand that," she said, genuinely searching for hismeaning.
"There is where you disappoint me," he retorted. "Most women quiver withaltruistic passion the moment they see helpless misery. If you saw akitten fall into a well what would you do?"
"I should certainly try to save it."
"Your heart would bleed to see it drown?"
She shivered at the thought. "Why, of course!"
"And yet you can share in your father's exterminating vengeance as hesweeps ten thousand redmen into their graves?"
"The case is different--the kitten never did any harm."
"The wrong is by no means all on the redman's side. But even if it were,Christ said, 'Love them that hate you,' and as a Christian nation weshould not go out in vindictive warfare against even those whodespitefully use us. I haven't a very high seat in the synagogue. I havea soldier's training for warfare, but I acknowledge the splendor ofChrist's precepts and try to live up to them. I always liked Grant'sposition as regards the soldier. But more than that--I like these redpeople. They are a good deal more than rude men. It is a great pleasureto feel their trust and confidence in me. It touches me deeply to havethem come and put their palms on me reverently, as though I weresuperhuman in wisdom, and say: 'Little Father, we are blind. We cannotsee the way. Lead us and we will go.' At such times I feel that no otherwork in the world is so important. If human souls are valuable anywhereon earth they are valuable here; no selfish land-lust should blind us tosee that."
As he spoke, the girl again felt something large and sweet and powerful,like a current of electrical air which came out of wide spaces of humanemotion and covered her like a flood. She was humbled by the highpurpose and inexplicable enthusiasm of the man before her.
"I suppose you consider me cruel and heartless!" she cried out. "But Iam not to blame for being what I am."
"If you are not free, who is? You have it all--youth, wealth, beauty.Nothing enslaves you but indifference."
She was thinking that Lawson had never moved her so, and wishing Curtiswere less inexorable in his logic, when he checked himself by saying: "Ibeg your pardon again. I came to see your pictures, not to preachforgiveness of sins. I here pull myself up short."
"I think you could make me feel personal interest in brickbats or--orspiders," she said, with a quaint, relaxing smile. "You were born to bea preacher, not a soldier."
"Do you think so? I've had a notion all along that I was a fairly goodcommander and a mighty poor persuader; what I don't intend to be is abore." He rose and began to walk slowly round the walls, studying thepaintings under her direction. He was struggling with obscure impulsesto other and more important speech, but after making the circuit of theroom he said, as though rendering a final verdict:
"You have great talent; that is evident. What do you intend to do withit? It should help some one."
"You are old-fashioned," she replied. "In our modern day, art is contentto add beauty to the world; it does not trouble itself to do good. It is_un_moral."
"Perhaps I _am_ a preacher, after all, for I like the book or picturethat has a motive, that stands for something. Your conception of art'suses is French, is it not?"
"I suppose it is; clearly, it isn't Germanic. What would you have medo--paint Indians to convince the world of their sufferings?"
"Wouldn't that be something like the work Millet did? Seems to me Iremember something of that sort in some book I have read."
She laughed. "Unfortunately, I am not Millet; besides, he isn't the godof our present idolatry. He's a dead duck. We paint skirt-dancers andthe singers in the cafes now. Toiling peasants are 'out.'"
"You are a woman, and a woman ought--"
"Please don't hand me any of that stupid rot about what a woman _ought_to be, and isn't. What I am I am, and I don't like dirty, ragged people,no matter whether they are Roman beggars or Chinese. I like clean,well-dressed, well-mannered people and no one can make me believe theyare less than a lot of ill-smelling Indians."
"Miss Brisbane, you must not do me an injustice," he earnestlyentreated. "It was not my intention to instruct you to-day. I amhonestly interested in your pictures, and had no thought of renewing anappeal. I was tempted and fell. If you will forgive me this time, I'llnever preach again."
"I don't say I object to your preachment. I think I rather like it. Idon't think I ever met a man who was so ready to sacrifice his owninterest for an idea. It's rather amusing to meet a soldier who is readyto knock one down with a moral war-club." She ended with a mockinginflection of voice.
His face lost its eager, boyish expression. "I'm delighted to think Ihave amused you," he said, slowly. "It makes amends."
"Please don't be angry," she pleaded. "I didn't mean to be flippant."
"Your words were explicit," he replied, feeling at the moment that shewas making a mock of him, and this duplicity hurt him.
She put forth her sweetest voice. "Please forgive me! I think your workvery noble, only I can't understand how you can exile yourself to do it.Let us go down; it is time for lunch, and papa is waiting for you, Iknow."
It was unaccountable that a mocking tone, a derisive smile from thischance acquaintance, should so shake the soldier and so weaken him, buthe descended the stair-way with a humiliating consciousness of havingbetrayed his heart to a fleering, luring daughter of wealth.
At the door of the library the girl paused. "Papa, are you asleep?"
The abrupt rustle of a newspaper preceded Brisbane's deep utterance."Not at all--just reading the _Star_. Come in, Captain. Is lunch nearlyready?" he asked of Elsie.
"I think so. They are a little late. I'll go see."
As she left the room Brisbane cordially rumbled on. "Sit down, Captain.I'm sorry I missed your talk to-day. I am curious to know what yournotion is about the Tetongs. Of course, I understood you couldn't gointo the case the other night, but, now that your testimony is all in, Ihope you feel free to give me your reasons for opposing our plan for aremoval of the tribe."
Curtis took a seat, while Brisbane stretched himself out in a big chairand fixed his cold, gray-blue eyes on the soldier, who hesitated amoment before replying, "I don't think it wise to go into that matter,Senator."
"Why not?"
"Well, we differ so radically on the bill, and your interests make itexceedingly difficult for you to be just in the case. Nothing would begained by argument."
"You think you know what my interests are?" There was a veiled sarcasmin the great man's smile.
"I think I do. As a candidate for re-election to the Senate you can'tafford to antagonize the cattle and mining interests of your State, and,as I am now officially the representative of the Tetongs, I sincerelyhope you will not insist on a discussion of the motives involved." Theyoung officer spoke firmly, but with impressive dignity and candor.
Brisbane's ambiguous manner took a sudden shift to cordiality, and,leaning forward, he said:
"Curtis, I like you. I admire your frankness. Let me be equally plain.You're too able a man to be shelved out there on a bleak reservation.What was your idea of going into the Indian service, anyway?"
The young officer remained on guard des
pite this genial glow. "Iconsidered it my duty," he replied. "Besides, I was rusting out ingarrison, and--but there is no need to go into my motives. I am agent,and shall stand firmly for the right of my wards so long as I am inposition to do so."
"But you're wasting your life. Suppose you were offered a chance to goto--well, say West Point, as an instructor on a good salary?"
"I would decline the appointment."
"Why?"
"Because at this time I am needed where I am, and I have started on aplan of action which I have a pride in finishing."
Brisbane grew distinctively less urbane. "You are bent on fighting me,are you?"
"What do you mean?" asked Curtis, though he knew.
"You are dead set against the removal of the Tetongs?"
"Most certainly I am!"
Elsie re-entered the room during this rapid interchange of phrase, butneither of the men heard her, so intent were they upon each other.
"Young man, do you know who you are fighting?" asked Brisbane, bristlinglike a bear and showing his teeth a little. Curtis being silent, hewent on: "You're lined up against the whole State! Not only thecattlemen round about the reservation, but a majority of the citizensare determined to be rid of those vagabonds. Anybody that knows anythingabout 'em knows they're a public nuisance. Why should they be allowed tocamp on land which they can't use--graze their mangy ponies on landsrich in minerals--"
"Because they are human beings."
"Human beings!" sneered Brisbane. "They are nothing but a greasy lot ofvermin--worthless from every point of view. Their rights can't stand inthe way of civilization."
"It is not a question of whether they are clean or dirty, it is aquestion of justice," Curtis replied, hotly. "They came into the worldlike the rest of us, without any choice in the matter, and so far as Ican see have the same rights to the earth--at least, so much of it asthey need to sustain life. The fact that they make a different use ofthe soil than you would do isn't a sufficient reason for starving androbbing them."
"The quicker they die the better," replied Brisbane, flushing withsudden anger. "The only good Injun is a dead Injun."
At this familiar phrase Curtis took fire. "Yes, I expected that accursedsentence. Let me tell you, Mr. Brisbane, I never knew a redman savageenough to utter such a sentiment as that. The most ferocious utteranceof Geronimo never touched the tigerish malignity of that saying. SittingBull was willing to live and let live. If your view representscivilization, I want none of it. The world of the savage is less cruel,less selfish."
Brisbane's face writhed white, and a snarling curse choked his utterancefor a moment. "If you weren't my guest," he said, reaching a clutchinghand towards Curtis, "I'd cut your throat."
Elsie, waiting in strained expectancy, cried out: "Father! What are yousaying? Are you crazy?"
Curtis hastily rose, very white and very quiet. "I will take care not toput myself in your way as guest again, sir."
"You can't leave too quick!" roared the old man, his face twitching withuncontrollable wrath. "You are a traitor to your race! You'd sacrificethe settlers to the interests of a greasy red vagabond!"
"Father, be quiet! You are making a scene," called Elsie, and added,sadly: "Don't go, Captain Curtis; I shall be deeply mortified if you do.Father will be sorry for this."
Brisbane also rose, shaking with a weakness pitiful to see. "Well, sir,you can go, for I know now the kind of sneak you are. Let me tell youthis, young man: you'll feel my hand before you are a year older. Youcan't come into my house and insult me in the presence of my daughter.Get out!" His hands were moving uncontrollably, and Elsie discoveredwith a curious pang that she was pitying him and admiring the sternyoung soldier who stood quietly waiting for an opportunity to speak. Atlast he said:
"Miss Brisbane, I beg your pardon; I should not have said what I did."He turned to Brisbane. "I am sorry I spoke so harshly, sir. You are anolder man than I, and--"
"Never mind my age," replied Brisbane, his heat beginning to cool intoself-contained malice. "I desire no terms of friendship with you. It'swar now--to the knife, and the knife to the hilt. You think you are safefrom me, but the man that lines up against me generally regrets it tothe day of his death."
"Very well, sir, I am not one to waste words. I shall do my duty to theTetongs regardless of you or your friends." He turned to Elsie. "MissBrisbane, I ask you to remember that I honestly tried to avoid acontroversy."
Six months before Elsie would have remained passive while her fatherordered Curtis from the door, but now she could not even attempt tojustify his anger, and the tears glistened on her lashes as she said:"Father, why can't you accept Captain Curtis's hand? These ragamuffinredmen aren't worth quarrelling about. No one ever went away from uslike this, and it breaks my heart to have it so. Don't go, CaptainCurtis. Father, ask his pardon."
The old man turned towards her. "Go to your room. I will see that thisyoung squirt finds the door!"
Elsie shrank from the glare of his eyes. "Father, you are brutal! Youhurt me."
"Do as I say!" he snarled.
"I will _not_!" She faced him, tall and resolute. "I am not a child. Iam the mistress of this house." She turned and walked towards the door."Captain Curtis, I beg _your_ pardon; my father has forgotten himself."
Brisbane took a step towards Curtis. "Get out! And you, girl, leave theroom."
The girl's face whitened. "Have you no sense of decency?" she said, andher voice cut deep down into his heart and he flinched. "Captain Curtisis my guest as well as yours." She extended her hand. "Please go! It isbest."
"It is the most miserable moment of my life," he replied, as they moveddown the hall, leaving Brisbane at the door of the study. "I will do anyhonorable thing to regain your good-will."
"You have not lost it," she replied. "I cannot blame you--as I should,"she added, and the look on her face mystified him.
"May I see you again before I leave for the West?"
"Perhaps," she softly replied. "Remember he is old--and--"
"I will try not to bear anger," he replied.
And as he turned away it seemed that she had leagued herself with himagainst her own father, and this feeling deepened as she ran up thestairs heedless of the voice whose commands had hitherto been law toher.
The young officer walked down the sunny avenue towards the White Housewith a curious feeling of having just passed through a bitter anddegrading dream. He was numb and cold. Around him the little negronewsboys were calling the one-o'clock editions of the "_Styah_," and thepavements were swarming with public servants hastening to lunch,punctual as clocks, while he, having been ordered from the house of hishost, was mechanically returning to his club.
There was something piercingly pathetic in the thought of the good cheerhe had anticipated, and the lost pleasure of sitting opposite Elsiemade his heart ache. At the moment his feet stumbled in the path ofduty. Surely he was a long way from the single-minded map-builder whohad crossed the Sulphur Spring Divide.
The Captain of the Gray-Horse Troop Page 11
