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The Way of a Man

Page 5

by Emerson Hough


  CHAPTER V

  THE MADNESS OF MUCH KISSING

  "That was a very noble thing of you," Miss Grace Sheraton was saying tome, as we passed slowly among the big trees of the Sheraton appleorchard. Her eyes were rather soft and a slight color lay upon hercheeks, whose ivory hue was rarely heightened in this way.

  "I am in ignorance, Miss Grace," I said to her.

  "Fie! You know very well what I mean--about yesterday."

  "Oh, that," said I, and went rather red of the face, for I thought shemeant my salutation at the gate.

  She, redder now than myself, needed no explanation as to what I meant."No, not that," she began hastily, "that was not noble, but vile of you!I mean at the tavern, where you took my part--"

  So then I saw that word in some way had come to her of the little brawlbetween Harry Singleton and myself. Then indeed my face grew scarlet."It was nothing," said I, "simply nothing at all." But to this she wouldnot listen.

  "To protect an absent woman is always manly," she said. (It was thewomen of the South who set us all foolish about chivalry.) "I thank youfor caring for my name."

  Now, I should have grown warmer in the face and in the heart at this,but the very truth is that I felt a chill come over me, as though Iwere getting deeper into cold water. I guessed her mind. Now, how was I,who had kissed her at the lane, who had defended her when absent, whocalled now in state with his father and mother in the familycarriage--how was I to say I was not of the same mind as she? I pulledthe ears of the hunting dog until he yelped in pain.

  We were deep in the great Sheraton orchard, across the fence whichdivided it from the house grounds, so far that only the great chimney ofthe house showed above the trees. The shade was gracious, the fragrancealluring. At a distance the voices of singing negroes came to us.Presently we came to a fallen apple tree, a giant perhaps planted theregenerations before. We seated ourselves here, and we should have beenhappy, for we were young, and all about us was sweet and comforting.Yet, on my honor, I would rather at that moment have been talking to mymother than to Grace Sheraton. I did not know why.

  For some time we sat there, pulling at apple blossoms and grass stems,and talking of many things quite beside the real question; but at lastthere came an interruption. I heard the sound of a low, rumbling bellowapproaching through the trees, and as I looked up I saw, coming forwardwith a certain confidence, Sir Jonas, the red Sheraton bull, with a ringin his nose, and in his carriage an intense haughtiness for one soyoung. I knew all about Sir Jonas, for we had bred him on our farm, andsold him not long since to the Sheratons.

  Miss Grace gathered her skirts for instant flight, but I quickly pushedher down. I knew the nature of Sir Jonas very well, and saw that flightwould mean disaster long before she could reach any place of safety.

  "Keep quiet," I said to her in a low voice. "Don't make any quickmotions, or he'll charge. Come with me, slowly now."

  Very pale, and with eyes staring at the intruder, she arose as I badeher and slowly moved toward the tree which I had in mind. "Now--quick!"I said, and catching her beneath the arms I swung her up into the lowbranches. Her light lawn gown caught on a knotty limb, somewhat to herperturbation, and ere I could adjust it and get her safe aloft Sir Jonashad made up his mind. He came on with head down, in a short, savagerush, and his horn missed my trouser leg by no more than an inch as Idodged around the tree. At this I laughed, but Miss Grace screamed,until between my hasty actions I called to her to keep quiet.

  Sir Jonas seemed to have forgotten my voice, and though I commanded himto be gone, he only shook his curly front and came again with head lowand short legs working very fast. Once more he nearly caught me with aside lunge of his wicked horns as he whirled. He tossed up his head thenand bolted for the tree where Miss Grace had her refuge. Then I saw itwas the red lining of her Parisian parasol which had enraged him. "Throwit down!" I called out to her. She could not find it in her heart totoss it straight down to Sir Jonas, who would have trampled it at once,so she cast it sidelong toward me, and inch by inch I beat Sir Jonas inthe race to it. Then I resolved that he should not have it at all, andso tossed it into the branches of another tree as I ran.

  "Come," called the girl to me, "jump! Get up into a tree. He can't catchyou there."

  But I was in no mind to take to a tree, and wait for some ingloriousdiscovery by a rescue party from the house. I found my fighting bloodrising, and became of the mind to show Sir Jonas who was his master,regardless of who might be his owner.

  His youth kept him in good wind still, and he charged me again andagain, keeping me hard put to it to find trees enough, even in anorchard full of trees. Once he ripped the bark half off a big trunk as Isprang behind it, and he stood with his head still pressed there, nottwo feet from where I was, with my hand against the tree, braced for asudden spring. His front foot dug in the sod, his eyes were red, andbetween his grumbles his breath came in puffs and snorts of anger.Evidently he meant me ill, and this thought offended me.

  Near by me on the ground lay a ragged limb, cut from some tree by thepruners, now dry, tough and not ill-shaped for a club. I reached backwith my foot and pulled it within reach, then stooped quickly and got itin hand, breaking off a few of the lesser branches with one foot, as westill stood there eying each other. "Now, sir," said I to Sir Jonas atlast, "I shall show you that no little bull two years old can make me alaughing stock." Then I sprang out and carried the war into Africaforthwith.

  Sir Jonas was surprised when I came from behind the tree and swung ahard blow to the side of his tender nose; and as I repeated this, hegrunted, blew out his breath and turned his head to one side with closedeyes, raising his muzzle aloft in pain. Once more I struck him fair onthe muzzle, and this time he bawled loudly in surprise and anguish, andso turned to run. This act of his offered me fair hold upon his tail,and so affixed to him, I followed smiting him upon the back with blowswhich I think cut through his hide where the pointed knots struck. Thuswith loud orders and with a voice which he ought better to haveremembered, I brought him to his senses and pursued him entirely out ofthe orchard, so that he had no mind whatever to return. After which,with what dignity I could summon, I returned to the tree where GraceSheraton was still perched aloft. Drawing my riding gloves from mypocket I reached up my hands, somewhat soiled with the encounter, and sohelped her down to earth once more. And once more her gaze, soft and noteasily to be mistaken, rested upon me.

  "Tell me, Jack Cowles," she said, "is there anything in the world youare afraid to do?"

  "At least I'm not afraid to give a lesson to any little Sir Jonas thathas forgot his manners," I replied. "But I hope you are not hurt in anyway?" She shook her head, smoothing out her gown, and again raised hereyes to mine.

  We seated ourselves again upon our fallen apple tree. Her hand fell uponmy coat sleeve. We raised our eyes. They met. Our lips met also--I donot know how.

  I do not hold myself either guilty or guiltless. I am only a man now. Iwas only a boy then. But even then I had my notions, right or wrong, asto what a gentleman should be and do. At least this is how GraceSheraton and I became engaged.

 

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