The attitude of the students was utterly indifferent. They did not consider themselves helpless at all. they were evidently quite ready to withstand anything but they looked frankly up to Coleman as their intelligent leader. If they suffered any, their only expression of it was in the simple grim slang of their period.
“I wish I was at Coney Island.”
“This is not so bad as trigonometry, but it’s worse than playing billiards for the beers.”
And Coke said privately to Coleman: “ Say, what in hell are these two damn peoples fighting for, anyhow?”
When he saw that all opinions were in favour of following him loyally, Coleman was impelled to feel a responsibility. He was now no errant rescuer, but a properly elected leader of fellow beings in distress. While one of the students held his horse, he took the dragoman for another consultation with the captain of the battery. The officer was sitting on a large stone, with his eyes fixed into his field glasses. When again questioned he could give no satisfaction as to the identity of the troops on the distant mountain. He merely shrugged his shoulders and said that if they were Greeks it was very good, but if they were Turks it was very bad. He seemed more occupied in trying to impress the correspondent that it was a matter of soldierly indifference to himself. Coleman, after loathing him sufficiently in silence, returned to the others and said: “ Well, we’ll chance it.”
They looked to him to arrange the caravan. Speaking to the men of the party he said: “ Of course, any one of you is welcome to my horse if you can ride it, but-if you’re not too tired-I think I had myself better ride, so that I can go ahead at times.”
His manner was so fine as he said this that the students seemed fairly to worship him. Of course it had been most improbable that any of them could have ridden that volcanic animal even if one of them had tried it.
He saw Mrs. Wainwright and Marjory upon the backs of their two little natives, and hoisted the professor into the saddle of the groom’s horse, leaving instructions with the servant to lead the animal always and carefully. He and the dragoman then mounted at the head of the procession, and amid curious questionings from the soldiery they crossed the bridge and started on the trail to Arta. The rear was brought up by the little grey horse with the luggage, led by one student and flogged by another.
Coleman, checking with difficulty the battling disposition of his horse, was very uneasy in his mind because the last words of the captain of the battery had made him feel that perhaps on this ride he would be placed in a position where only the best courage would count, and he did not see his way clear to feeling very confident about his conduct in such a case. Looking back upon the caravan, he saw it as a most unwieldy thing, not even capable of running away. He hurried it with sudden, sharp contemptuous phrases.
On the. march there incidentally flashed upon him a new truth. More than half of that student band were deeply in love with Marjory. Of course, when he had been distant from her he had had an eternal jealous reflection to that effect. It was natural that he should have thought of the intimate camping relations between Marjory and these young students with a great deal of bitterness, grinding his teeth when picturing their opportunities to make Marjory fall in love with some one of them. He had raged particularly about Coke, whose father had millions of dollars. But he had forgotten all these jealousies in the general splendour of his exploits. Now, when he saw the truth, it seemed. to bring him back to his common life and he saw himself suddenly as not being frantically superior in any way to those other young men. The more closely he looked at this last fact, the more convinced he was of its truth. He seemed to see that he had been impropererly elated over his services to the Wainwrights, and that, in the end, the girl might fancy a man because the man had done her no service at all. He saw his proud position lower itself to be a pawn in the game. Looking back over the students, he wondered which one Marjory might love. This hideous Nikopolis had given eight men chance to win her. His scorn and his malice quite centered upon Coke, for he could never forget that the man’s father had millions of dollars. The unfortunate Coke chose that moment to address him querulously : “Look here, Coleman, can’t you tell us how far it is to Arta?”
“Coke,” said Coleman, “ I don’t suppose you take me for a tourist agency, but if you can only try to distinguish between me and a map with the scale of miles printed in the lower left- hand corner, you will not contribute so much to the sufferings of the party which you now adorn.”
The students within hearing guffawed and Coke retired, in confusion.
The march was not rapid. Coleman almost wore out his arms holding in check his impetuous horse. Often the caravan floundered through mud, while at the same time a hot, yellow dust came from the north.
They were perhaps half way to Arta when Coleman decided that a rest and luncheon were the things to be considered. He halted his troop then in the shade of some great trees, and privately he bade his dragoman prepare the best feast which could come out of those saddle-bags fresh from Athens. The result was rather gorgeous in the eyes of the poor wanderers. First of all there were three knives, three forks, three spoons, three tin cups and three tin plaies, which the entire party of twelve used on a most amiable socialistic principle. There were crisp, salty biscuits and olives, for which they speared in the bottle. There was potted turkey, and potted ham, and potted tongue, all tasting precisely alike. There were sardines and the ordinary tinned beef, disguised sometimes with onions, carrots and potatoes. Out of the saddle-bags came pepper and salt and even mustard. The dragoman made coffee over a little fire of sticks that blazed with a white light. The whole thing was prodigal, but any philanthropist would have approved of it if he could have seen the way in which the eight students laid into the spread. When there came a polite remonstrance-notably from Mrs. Wainwright-Coleman merely pointed to a large bundle strapped back of the groom’s saddle. During the coffee he was considering how best to get the students one by one out of the sight of the Wainwrights where he could give them good drinks of whisky.
There was an agitation on the road toward Arta. Some people were coming on horses. He paid small heed until he heard a thump of pausing hoofs near him, and a musical voice say: “Rufus!”
He looked up quickly, and then all present saw his eyes really bulge. There on a fat and glossy horse sat Nora Black, dressed in probably one of the most correct riding habits which had ever been seen in the East. She was smiling a radiant smile, which held the eight students simpty spell-bound. They would have recognised her if it had not been for this apparitional coming in the wilds of southeastern Europe. Behind her were her people-some servants and an old lady on a very little pony. “ Well, Rufus? “ she said.
Coleman made the mistake of hesitating. For a fraction of a moment he had acted as if he were embarrassed, and was only going to nod and say: “ How d’do?”
He arose and came forward too late. She was looking at him with a menacing glance which meant difficulties for him if he was not skilful. Keen as an eagle, she swept her glance over the face and figure of Marjory. Without. further introduction, the girls seemed to understand that they were enemies.
Despite his feeling of awkwardness, Coleman’s mind was mainly occupied by pure astonishment. “Nora Black? “ he said, as if even then he could not believe his senses. “ How in the world did you get down here?
She was not too amiable, evidently, over his reception, and she seemed to know perfectly that it was in her power to make him feel extremely unpleasant. “ Oh, it’s not so far,” she answered. “ I don’t see where you come in to ask me what I’m doing here. What are you doing here? “ She lifted her eyes and shot the half of a glance at Marjory. Into her last question she had interjected a spirit of ownership in which he saw future woe. It turned him cowardly. “ Why, you know I was sent up here by the paper to rescue the Wainwright party, and I’ve got them. I’m taking them to Arta. But why are you here?”
“I am here,” she said, giving him the most defiant of glances,
“ principally to look for you.”
Even the horse she rode betrayed an intention of abiding upon that spot forever. She had made her communication with Coleman appear to the Wainwright party as a sort of tender reunion.
Coleman looked at her with a steely eye. “Nora, you can certainly be a devil when you choose.”
“Why don’t you present me to your friends? Mis,; Nora Black, special correspondent of the New York Daylighi, if you please. I belong to your opposition. I am your rival, Rufus, and I draw a bigger salary-see? Funny looking gang, that. Who is the old Johnnie in the white wig?”
“Er-where you goin’-you can’t “-blundered Coleman miserably “Aw-the army is in retreat and you must go back to- don’t you see?”
“Is it?” she agked. After a pause she added coolly: “Then I shall go back to Arta with you and your precious Wainwrights.”
CHAPTER XV.
GIVING Coleman another glance of subtle menace Nora repeated: “Why don’t you present me to your friends? “ Coleman had been swiftly searching the whole world for a way clear of this unhappiness, but he knew at last that he could only die at his guns. “ Why, certainly,” he said quickly, “ if you wish it.” He sauntered easily back to the luncheon blanket. “This is Miss Black of the New York Daylight and she says that those people on the mountain are Greeks.” The students were gaping at him, and Marjory and her father sat in the same silence. But to the relief of Coleman and to the high edification of the students, Mrs. Wainwright cried out: “ Why, is she an American woman? “ And seeing Coleman’s nod of assent she rustled to her feet and advanced hastily upon the complacent horsewoman. “ I’m delighted to see you. Who would think of seeing an American woman way over here. Have you been here long? Are you going on further? Oh, we’ve had such a dreadful time.” Coleman remained long enough to hear Nora say: “ Thank you very much, but I shan’t dismount. I am going to ride back to Arta presently.”
Then he heard Mrs. Wainwright cry: “ Oh, are you indeed? Why we, too, are going at once to Arta. We can all go together.” Coleman fled then to the bosom of the students, who all looked at him with eyes of cynical penetration. He cast a glance at Marjory more than fearing a glare which denoted an implacable resolution never to forgive this thing. On the contrary he had never seen her so content and serene. “You have allowed your coffee to get chilled,” she said considerately. “Won’t you have the man warm you some more?”
“Thanks, no,” he answered with gratitude.
Nora, changing her mind, had dismounted and was coming with Mrs. Wainwright. That worthy lady had long had a fund of information and anecdote the sound of which neither her husband nor her daughter would endure for a moment. Of course the rascally students were out of the question. Here, then, was really the first ear amiably and cheerfully open, and she was talking at what the students called her “thirty knot gait.”
“Lost everything. Absolutely everything. Neither of us have even a brush and comb, or a cake of soap, or enough hairpins to hold up our hair. I’m going to take Marjory’s away from her and let her braid her hair down her back. You can imagine how dreadful it is—”
From time to time the cool voice of Nora sounded without effort through this clamour. “ Oh, it will be no trouble at all. I have more than enough of everything. We can divide very nicely.”
Coleman broke somewhat imperiously into this feminine chat. “Well, we must be moving, you know, “ and his voice started the men into activity. When the traps were all packed again on the horse Coleman looked back surprised to see the three women engaged in the most friendly discussion. The combined parties now made a very respectable squadron. Coleman rode off at its head without glancing behind at all. He knew that they were following from the soft pounding of the horses hoofs on the sod and from the mellow hum of human voices.
For a long time he did not think to look upon himself as anything but a man much injured by circumstances. Among his friends he could count numbers who had lived long lives without having this peculiar class of misfortune come to them. In fact it was so unusual a misfortune that men of the world had not found it necessary to pass from mind to mind a perfec t formula for dealing with it. But he soon began to consider himself an extraordinarily lucky person inasmuch as Nora Black had come upon him with her saddle bags packed with inflammable substances, so to speak, and there had been as yet only enough fire to boil coffee for luncheon. He laughed tenderly when he thought of the innocence of Mrs. Wainwright, but his face and back flushed with heat when lie thought of the canniness of the eight American college students.
He heard a horse cantering up on his left side and looking he saw Nora Black. She was beaming with satisfaction and good nature. “ Well, Rufus,” she cried flippantly, “ how goes it with the gallant rescuer? You’ve made a hit, my boy. You are the success of the season.”
Coleman reflected upon the probable result of a direct appeal to Nora. He knew of course that such appeals were usually idle, but he did not consider Nora an ordinary person. His decision was to venture it. He drew his horse close to hers. “ Nora,” he said, “ do you know that you are raising the very devil?”
She lifted her finely penciled eyebrows and looked at him with the baby-stare. “ How? “ she enquired.
“You know well enough,” he gritted out wrathfully.
“Raising the very devil?” she asked. “ How do you mean?” She was palpably interested for his answer. She waited for his reply for an interval, and then she asked him outright. “ Rufus Coleman do you mean that I am not a respectable woman?”
In reality he had meant nothing of the kind, but this direct throttling of a great question stupefied him utterly, for he saw now that she’ would probably never understand him in the least and that she would at any rate always pretend not to understand him and that the more he said the more harm he manufactured. She studied him over carefully and then wheeled her horse towards the rear with some parting remarks. “ I suppose you should attend more strictly to your own affairs, Rufus. Instead of raising the devil I am lending hairpins. I have seen you insult people, but I have never seen you insult anyone quite for the whim of the thing. Go soak your head.”
Not considering it advisable to then indulge in such immersion Coleman rode moodily onward. The hot dust continued to sting the cheeks of the travellers and in some places great clouds of dead leaves roared in circles about them. All of the Wainwright party were utterly fagged. Coleman felt his skin crackle and his throat seemed to be coated with the white dust. He worried his dragoman as to the distance to Arta until the dragoman lied to the point where he always declared that Arta was only off some hundreds of yards.
At their places in the procession Mrs. Wainwright and Marjory were animatedly talking to Nora and the old lady on the little pony. They had at first suffered great amazement at the voluntary presence of the old lady, but she was there really because she knew no better. Her colossal ignorance took the form, mainly, of a most obstreperous patriotism, and indeed she always acted in a foreign country as if she were the special commissioner of the President, or perhaps as a special commissioner could not act at all. She was very aggressive, and when any of the travelling arrangements in Europe did not suit her ideas she was won’t to shrilly exclaim: “ Well! New York is good enough for me.” Nora, morbidly afraid that her ex- pense bill to the Daylight would not be large enough, had dragged her bodily off to Greece as her companion, friend and protection. At Arta they had heard of the grand success of the Greek army. The Turks had not stood for a moment before that gallant and terrible advance; no; they had scampered howling with fear into the north. Jannina would fall-well, Jannina would fall as soon as the Greeks arrived. There was no doubt of it. The correspondent and her friend, deluded and hurried by the light-hearted confidence of the Greeks in Arta, had hastened out then on a regular tourist’s excursion to see Jannina after its capture. Nora concealed from her friend the fact that the editor of the Daylight particularly wished her to see a battle so that she might wr
ite an article on actual warfare from a woman’s point of view. With her name as a queen of comic opera, such an article from her pen would be a burning, sensation.
Coleman had been the first to point out to Nora that instead of going on a picnic to Jannina, she had better run back to Arta. When the old lady heard that they had not been entirely safe, she was furious with Nora. “The idea!” she exclaimed to Mrs. Wainwright. “They might have caught us! They might have caught us!”
“Well,” said Mrs. Wainwright. “ I verily believe they would have caught us if it had not been for Mr. Coleman.”
“Is he the gentleman on the fine horse?”
“Yes; that’s him. Oh, he has been sim-plee splendid. I confess I was a little bit-er-surprised. He was in college under my husband. I don’t know that we thought very great things of him, but if ever a man won golden opinions he has done so from us.”
“Oh, that must be the Coleman who is such a great friend of Nora’s.”
“Yes?” said Mrs. Wainwright insidiously. “Is he? I didn’t know. Of course he knows so many people.” Her mind had been suddenly illumined by the old lady and she thought extravagantly of the arrival of Nora upon the scene. She remained all sweetness to the old lady. “Did you know he was here? Did you expect to meet him? I seemed such a delightful coincidence.” In truth she was being subterraneously clever.
Complete Works of Stephen Crane Page 50
