The Coast of Chance

by Esther Chamberlain and Lucia Chamberlain

  III

  ENCOUNTERS ON PARADE

  Flora, before the mirror, gaily stabbing in her long hat-pins, confessedto herself that last night had been queer, as queer as queer could be;but this morning, luckily, was real again. Her fancy last nighthad--yes, she was afraid it really had--run away with her. And sheturned and held the hand-mirror high, to be sure of the line of hertilted hat, gave a touch to the turn of her wide, close belt, a flirt tothe frills of her bodice.

  The wind was lightly ruffling and puffing out the muslin curtains of thewindows, and from the garden below came the long, silvery clash ofeucalyptus leaves. She leaned on the high window-ledge to look downwardover red roofs, over terraced green, over steep streets runningabruptly to the broken blue of the bay. She tried to fancy how Kerrwould look in this morning sun. He seemed to belong only beneath thehigh artificial lights, in the thicker atmosphere of evening. Would hereturn again, with renewed potency, with the same singular, almostsinister charm, as a wizard who works his will only by moonlight? Whenshe should see him again, what, she wondered, would be his extraordinarymood? On what new breathless flights might he not take her--or would hesee her at all? It was too fantastic. The sunlight thinned him to animpalpable ghost.

  It was Clara, standing at the foot of the stairs, who belonged to themorning, so brisk, so fresh, so practical she appeared. She held a bookin her hand. The door, open for her immediate departure, showed, beyondthe descent of marble steps, the landau glistening black against whitepavements. It was unusual for this formal vehicle to put in anappearance so early.

  "I am going to drive over to the Purdies'," Clara explained. "I have anerrand there."

  Flora smiled at the thought of how many persons would be having errandsto the Purdies' now. It was refreshing to catch Clara in this weakness.She felt a throb of it herself when she recalled the breathless momentat the supper table last evening. "Oh, that will be a heavenly drive,"she said. "Please ask me to go with you. My errand can wait."

  "Why, certainly. I should like to have you," said Clara. But if she hadreturned a flat "no," Flora would not have had a dryer sense ofunwelcome. Still, she had gone too far to retreat. After all, this wasonly Clara's manner, and her buoyant interest in the expedition wasstronger than her diffidence.

  Mischievous reflections of the doctrine the Englishman had startled herwith the night before flickered in her mind, as they drove from thedoor. Was this part of "the big red game," not being accommodating, norso very polite? The streets were still wet with early fog, and, turningin at the Presidio gate, the cypresses dripped dankly on their heads,and hung out cobwebs pearled with dew. She was sure, even under theirdripping, that the "damnable dust" was alive.

  Down the broad slopes that were swept by the drive all was green to thewater's edge. The long line of barracks, the officers' quarters, thegreat parade-ground, set in the flat land between hills and bay, lookedlike a child's toy, pretty and little. They heard the note of a bugle,thin and silver clear, and they could see the tiny figures mustering;but in her preoccupation it did not occur to Flora that they werearriving just in time for parade. But when the carriage had crossed theviaduct, and swung them past the acacias, and around the last whitecurve into the white dust of the parade-ground, Clara turned, as if witha fresh idea.

  "Wouldn't you like to stop and watch it?"

  "Why, yes," Flora assented. The brilliance of light and color, theprecision of movement, the sound of the brasses under the open sky werean intermezzo in harmony with her spirited mood.

  The carriage stopped under the scanty shadow of trees that bordered thewalk to the officers' quarters. Clara, book in hand, alertly rose.

  "I'll just run up to the Purdies' and leave this," she said.

  "Then she really did want to be rid of me," Flora mused, as she watchedthe brisk back moving away; "and how beautifully she has done it!" Hereyes followed Clara's little figure retreating up the neat and narrowboard walk, to where it disappeared in overarching depths of eucalyptustrees. Further on, beyond the trees, two figures, smaller than Clara'sin their greater distance, were coming down. Flora almost grinned as sherecognized the large linen umbrella that Mrs. Purdie invariably carriedwhen abroad in the reservation, and presently the trim and boundingfigure of Mrs. Purdie herself, under it. The Purdies were coming down toparade--at least Mrs. Purdie was. But the tall figure beside her--thatwas not the major. She took up her lorgnon. It was--no it could notbe--yet surely it _was_ Harry! Lazy Harry, up and out, and squiringMrs. Purdie to the review at half-past ten in the morning! "Are we allmad?" Flora thought.

  The three little figures, the one going up, the two coming down, touchedopposite fringes of the grove--disappeared within it. On which sidewould they come out together? Flora wondered. They emerged on her sidewith Harry a little in advance. He came swingingly down the walk,straight toward her, and across the road to the carriage, his hatlifted, his hand out.

  "Well, Flora," he said, "this is luck!"

  "What in the world has got you out so early?" she rallied him.

  "Came out to see Purdie on business, and here you are all ready to driveme back."

  "That's your reward."

  He brushed his handkerchief over his damp forehead. "Well, there's onecoming to me, for I haven't found Purdie."

  Her eyes were dancing with mischief. "Harry, I believe you're out hereabout the Crew Idol, too!"

  He shook his head at her, smiling. "I wouldn't talk too much about that,Flora. It flicks poor Purdie on the raw every time that--" His sentencetrailed off into something else, for Mrs. Purdie and Clara had come up.

  The book had changed hands, together, evidently, with severalexplanations, and Mrs. Purdie, with her foot on the carriage step, wasready to make one of these over again.

  "The major'll be so sorry. He's gone in town. It's so unusual for him toget off at this hour, but he said he had to catch a man. As Mrs. Brittonand I were saying, he's likely to be very busy until this dreadfulaffair is straightened out. If you can only wait a little longer, Mr.Cressy," she went on, "I am expecting him every moment."

  "Oh, it's of no importance," said Harry, but he looked at his watch witha fold between his brows, and then at the car that was coming in.

  "Well, at least, you'll have time to see the parade," said Mrs. Purdie."I always think it's a pretty sight, though most of the women get tiredof it."

  Clara's face showed that she belonged to the latter class; but Flora,too keenly attuned to sounds and sights not to be swayed by outwardcircumstances, was content for the time to watch, in the cloud of dust,the wheeling platoons and rhythmic columns.

  Yet through all--even when she was not looking at him--she was aware ofHarry's restlessness, of his impatience; and as the last company swungbarrackward, and the cloud began to settle over the empty field, hesnapped his watch-case smartly, and remarked, "Still no major."

  "Why, there he is now!" Mrs. Purdie screamed, pointing across theparade-ground.

  Flora looked. Half-way down on the adjoining side of the parallelogram,back toward her, the redoubtable Kerr was standing. She recognized himon the instant, as if he were the most familiar figure in her life. Yetshe was more surprised to see him here than she had been to see Harry.She felt inclined to rub her eyes. It took a moment for her to realizethat his companion was indeed Major Purdie.

  The major had recognized his wife's signaling umbrella. Now he turnedtoward it, but Kerr, with a quick motion of hand toward hat, turned inthe opposite direction. In her mind Flora was with the major who ranafter him. The two men stood for a little, expostulating. Then bothwalked toward the landau and the linen umbrella.

  The carriage group waited, watching with flagging conversation, whichfinally fell into silence. But the two approaching strolled easily andtalked. Even in cold daylight Kerr still gave Flora the impression thatthe open was not big enough to hold him, but she saw a difference in hismood, a graver eye, a colder mouth, and when he finally greeted them, amanner that was brusk. It showed uncivil beside the maj
or's urbanity.

  The major was glad, very glad, to see them all. He was evidently also alittle flurried. He seemed to know that they had all met Kerr before.Had it been at the moment of his attempted departure that Kerr had toldhim, Flora wondered? And had he given them as his excuse for going away?It hurt her; though why should she be hurt because a stranger had notwanted to cross the parade-ground to shake hands with her? He was lessinterested in her than he was in Harry, at whom he had looked keenly.

  But Harry's nervousness had left him, now that Purdie was within hisreach. He returned the glance indifferently. He stood close to themajor--his hand on his shoulder. The major, with his bland blue eyestwinkling from Clara to Flora, seemed the only man ready to devotehimself to the service of the ladies.

  "And what's the news from the front?" said Clara gaily. Kerr gave her arapid glance; but the major blinked as if the allusion had got by him.

  "I mean the mystery--the Chatworth ring," she explained. Howeverlightly and sweetly Clara said it, it was a little brazen to fling sucha question at poor Purdie, whose responsibility the ring had been.

  He received it amicably enough, but conclusively. "No news whatever, mydear Mrs. Britton."

  She smiled. "We're all rather interested in the mystery. Flora has madea dozen romances about it."

  "Oh, yes, yes," said the major indulgently. "It will do for young ladiesto make romances about. It'll be a two days' wonder, and then you'llsuddenly find out it's something very tame indeed."

  "Why, have they fixed the suspicion?" said Clara.

  There was a restless movement from Kerr.

  "No, no, nothing of that sort," said the major quickly.

  Harry passed his hand through his arm. "May I see you for five minutes,Major?"

  The excellent major looked harassed.

  "Suppose we all step up to the house," he suggested. "Why, you're notgoing, man?" he objected, for Kerr had fallen back a step, and, withlifted hat and balanced cane, was signaling his farewells.

  "Do let us go up to the house," said Clara. "And Mrs. Purdie, won't youdrive up with me? Flora wants to walk."

  Flora stood up. She had a confused impression that she had expressed nosuch desire, and that there was room for three in the landau; but themental shove that Clara had administered gave her an impetus thatcarried her out of the carriage before she realized what she was about.Some one had offered a hand to help her, and when she was on the groundshe saw it was Kerr, who had come back and was standing beside her. Hewas smiling quizzically.

  "I feel rather like walking, myself," he said. "Do you want acompanion?"

  She turned to him with gratitude. "I should be glad of one," she saidquickly. She was touched. She had not thought he could be so gentle.

  Harry was already moving off up the board walk with the major. Thecarriage was turning. Kerr looked at the backs of the two women beingdriven away, and then at Flora. "Very good," he said, raising herparasol; "you are the deposed heir, and I am your faithful servant."

  "But indeed I do want to walk," she protested, a little shy at the wayhe read her case.

  "But you didn't think of it until she gave you the suggestion, eh?" hequizzed.

  "She probably had something to say to Mrs. Purdie that--"

  "My dear child," he caught her up earnestly, "don't think I'mcriticizing your friend's motive. I am only saying I saw something donethat was not pretty, though really, if you will forgive me--it was veryfunny."

  Flora smiled ruefully. "It must have been--absurd. I am afraid I oftenam. But what else could I have done?"

  He seemed to ponder a moment. "I fancy _you_ couldn't have done anythingdifferent. That's why I came back for you," he volunteered gaily.

  The casual words seemed in her ears fraught with deeper meaning. Hercheeks were hot behind her thin veil. They were strolling slowly up theboard walk, and for a moment she could not look at him. She could onlylisten to the flutter of the fringes of the parasol carried above herhead. She felt herself small and stupid. She could not understand whathe could see in her to come back to. Then she gave a side glance at him.She saw an unsmiling profile. The lines in his face were indeedextraordinary, but none was hard. She liked that wonderful mobility thathad survived the batterings of experience.

  As if he were conscious of her eyes, he looked down and smiled; butvaguely. He did not speak; and she was aware that it was at herappearance he had smiled, as if that only reached him through hispreoccupation and pleased him. And since he seemed content with thisvague looking, she was content to move beside him silent, a mere imageof youth and--since he liked it--of prettiness, with a fleeting colorand a gust of little curls blowing out under a fluttering veil.

  But what was he thinking about so seriously between those smilingglances? Not her problem, she was sure.

  Yet he had stayed for her when he had not meant to stay. He had beenanxious to get away since he had first sighted them. Surely he must likeher more than he disliked some other member of her party. Or had hesimply reached forth out of his kindness to rescue her, as he might haverescued a blind kitten that he pitied? "No," he had said, "_you_ couldnot have done anything different."

  They had almost reached the major's gate, and it was now or never tofind out what he thought of her. She looked up at him suddenly, withinquiring eyes.

  "Do you think I am weak?" she demanded.

  The lines of his face broke up into laughter. "No," he said, "I thinkyou are misplaced."

  She knitted her brows in perplexity, but his hand was on the whitepicket gate, and she had to walk through it ahead of him as he set itopen for her.

  Of their party only the two women were in sight waiting on thediminutive veranda. Clara had a mild domestic appearance, rocking therebehind the potted geraniums. All the windows were open into the littleshell of a house. Trunks still stood in the hall, though the Purdies hadbeen quartered at the Presidio for nine months. From the rear of thehouse came the sound of bowl and chopper, where the Chinese cook waspreparing luncheon, and the major's man appeared, walking around thegarden to the veranda, with a cluster of mint juleps on a copper tray.

  In this easy atmosphere, how was it that the thread of restraint ran sosharply defined? Clara and Mrs. Purdie were matching crewels; and,sitting on the top step Flora instructed Kerr as to the composition ofthe tropical glacier they were drinking. Ten girls had probably soinstructed him before, but it would do to fill up the gap. It was so,Flora thought, they were all feeling. Even the carriage, driving slowlyround and round the rectangle of officers' row, added its note ofrestlessness.

  Like a stone plumped into a pool the major and Harry reentered thisstagnation. They were brisk and buoyant. Harry, especially, had the airof a man who sees stimulating business before him. Immediately alltalked at once.

  "Now that we've got you here, you must all stay to luncheon," Mrs.Purdie determined.

  It looked as if they were about to accept her invitation unanimously,but Harry demurred. He had to be at Montgomery Street and Jackson by oneo'clock. "I hoped," he added, glancing at Flora, "that some one was todrive me--part of the way, at least."

  Flora, with an unruly sense of disappointment, yet opened her lips forthe courteous answer. But Clara was quicker. She rose.

  "Yes," she said, "I'll drive you back with pleasure."

  Harry's glimmer of annoyance was comic.

  "I have to be at the house for luncheon," Clara explained to her hostessas she buttoned her glove, "but there is no reason why Flora shouldn'tstay."

  "Oh, I should love to," Flora murmured, not knowing whether she was moreembarrassed or pleased at this high-handed dispensation which placed herwhere she wanted to be.

  But the way Clara had leaped at her opportunity! Flora looked curiouslyat Harry.

  He seemed uneasy at being pounced upon, but that might be merely becausehe was balked of a tete-a-tete with herself. For while Clara went on tothe gate with their hostess he lingered a moment with Flora.

  "May I see you to-night?"
<
br />   "All you have to do is to come."

  She gave him an oblique, upward glance, and had a pleasant sense ofpower in seeing his face relax and smile. She had a dance for thatevening; but she thrust it aside without regret. For suppose Harryshould have something to tell her about the Chatworth ring? She wonderedif Clara would get it out of him first on the way home.

  The four left on the veranda watched the two driving away with a suddenclearing of the social atmosphere. In vain Flora told herself it wasonly the relief she always felt in getting free of Clara. For in thereturn of the major's elderly blandishments, in Kerr's kindlier mood, aswell as in her own lightened spirits, she had the proofs that, with themall, some tension had relaxed. It seemed to her as if those two,departing, were bearing away between them the very mystery of the CrewIdol.