CHAPTER III
UNDER ORDERS
Many an unexpected event has resulted from the formal, concise ordersissued by the War Department. Cupid in the disguise of Mars has thusfrequently toyed with the fate of men, sending many a gallant soldierforward, all unsuspecting, into a battle of the heart.
It was no pleasant assignment to duty which greeted First LieutenantDonald Brant, commanding Troop N, Seventh Cavalry, when that regimentcame once more within the environs of civilization, from its summerexercises in the field. Bethune had developed into a somewhatimportant post, socially as well as from a strictly militarystandpoint, and numerous indeed were the attractions offered there toany young officer whose duty called him to serve the colors on thosebleak Dakota prairies. Brant frowned at the innocent words, readingthem over again with gloomy eyes and an exclamation of unmitigateddisgust, yet there was no escaping their plain meaning. Trouble wasundoubtedly brewing among the Sioux, trouble in which the Cheyennes,and probably others also, were becoming involved. Every soldierpatrolling that long northern border recognized the approach of somedire development, some early coup of savagery. Restlessness pervadedthe Indian country; recalcitrant bands roamed the "badlands";dissatisfied young warriors disappeared from the reservation limits andfailed to return; while friendly scouts told strange tales of weirddances amid the brown Dakota hills. Uneasiness, the spirit ofsuspected peril, hung like a pall over the plains; yet none couldsafely predict where the blow might first descend.
Brant was not blind to all this, nor to the necessity of having inreadiness selected bodies of seasoned troops, yet it was not in soldiernature to refrain from grumbling when the earliest detail chanced tofall to him. But orders were orders in that country, and although hecrushed the innocent paper passionately beneath his heel, five hourslater he was in saddle, riding steadily westward, his depleted troop ofhorsemen clattering at his heels. Up the valley of the Bear Water,slightly above Glencaid,--far enough beyond the saloon radius toprotect his men from possible corruption, yet within easy reach of themilitary telegraph,--they made camp in the early morning upon a woodedterrace overlooking the stage road, and settled quietly down as one ofthose numerous posts with which the army chiefs sought to hem in thedissatisfied redmen, and learn early the extent of their hostile plans.
Brant was now in a humor considerably happier than when he first rodeforth from Bethune. A natural soldier, sincerely ambitious in hisprofession, anything approximating to active service instantly arousedhis interest, while his mind was ever inclined to respond withenthusiasm to the fascination of the plains and the hills across whichtheir march had extended. Somewhere along that journey he had droppedhis earlier burden of regret, and the spirit of the service had lefthim cheerfully hopeful of some stern soldierly work. He watched themen of his troop while with quip and song they made comfortable camp;he spoke a few brief words of instruction to the grave-faced firstsergeant, and then strolled slowly up the valley, his own affairs sooncompletely forgotten in the beauty of near-by hills beneath the goldenglory of the morning sun. Once he paused and looked back upon uglyGlencaid, dingy and forlorn even at that distance; then he crossed thenarrow stream by means of a convenient log, and clambered up thesomewhat steep bank. A heavy fringe of low bushes clung close alongthe edge of the summit, but a plainly defined path led among theirintricacies. He pressed his way through, coming into a glade wheresunshine flickered through the overarching branches of great trees, andthe grass was green and short, like that of a well-kept lawn.
As Brant emerged from the underbrush he suddenly beheld a fair visionof young womanhood resting on the grassy bank just before him. She waspartially reclining, as if startled by his unannounced approach, herface turned toward him, one hand grasping an open book, the othershading her eyes from the glare of the sun. Something in the gracefulpoise, the piquant, uplifted face, the dark gloss of heavy hair, andthe unfrightened gaze held him speechless until the picture had beenimpressed forever upon his memory. He beheld a girl on the verge ofwomanhood, fair of skin, the red glow of health flushing her cheeks,the lips parted in surprise, the sleeve fallen back from one white,rounded arm, the eyes honest, sincere, mysterious. She recognized himwith a glance, and her lips closed as she remembered how and when theyhad met before. But there was no answering recollection within hiseyes, only admiration--nothing clung about this Naiad to remind him ofa neglected waif of the garrison. She read all this in his face, andthe lines about her mouth changed quickly into a slightly quizzicalsmile, her eyes brightening.
"You should at least have knocked, sir," she ventured, sitting up onthe grassy bank, the better to confront him, "before intruding thusuninvited."
He lifted his somewhat dingy scouting hat and bowed humbly.
"I perceived no door giving warning that I approached such presence,and the first shock of surprise was perhaps as great to me as to you.Yet, now that I have blundered thus far, I beseech that I be permittedto venture upon yet another step."
She sat looking at him, a trim, soldierly figure, his face young andpleasant to gaze upon, and her dark eyes sensibly softened.
"What step?"
"To tarry for a moment beside the divinity of this wilderness."
She laughed with open frankness, her white teeth sparkling behind thered, parted lips.
"Perhaps you may, if you will first consent to be sensible," she said,with returning gravity; "and I reserve the right to turn you awaywhenever you begin to talk or act foolish. If you accept theseconditions, you may sit down."
He seated himself upon the soft grass ledge, retaining the hat in hishands. "You must be an odd sort of a girl," he commented, soberly,"not to welcome an honest expression of admiration."
"Oh, was that it? Then I duly bow my acknowledgment. I took yourwords for one of those silly compliments by which men believe theyhonor women."
He glanced curiously aside at her half-averted face. "At first sight Ihad supposed you scarcely more than a mere girl, but now you speak likea woman wearied of the world, utterly condemning all complimentaryphrases."
"Indeed, no; not if they be sincerely expressed as between man and man."
"How is it as between man and woman?"
"Men generally address women as you started to address me, as if thereexisted no common ground of serious thought between them. Theycondescend, they flatter, they indulge in fulsome compliment, theywhisper soft nonsense which they would be sincerely ashamed to utter inthe presence of their own sex, they act as if they were amusing babies,rather than conversing with intelligent human beings. Their own notionseems to be to shake the rattle-box, and awaken a laugh. I am not ababy, nor am I seeking amusement."
He glanced curiously at her book. "And yet you condescend to read lovestories," he said, smiling. "I expected to discover a treatise onphilosophy."
"I read whatever I chance to get my hands on, here in Glencaid," sheretorted, "just as I converse with whoever comes along. I am hopefulof some day discovering a rare gem hidden in the midst of the trash. Iam yet young."
"You are indeed young," he said, quietly, "and with some of life'slessons still to learn. One is that frankness is not necessarilyflippancy, nor honesty harshness. Beyond doubt much of what you saidregarding ordinary social conversation is true, yet the man is no moreto be blamed than the woman. Both seek to be entertaining, and are tobe praised for the effort rather than censured. A stranger cannotinstinctively know the likes and dislikes of one he has just met; hecan feel his way only by commonplaces. However, if you will offer me atopic worthy the occasion, in either philosophy, science, orliterature, I will endeavor to feed your mind."
She uplifted her innocent eyes demurely to his face. "You are so kind.I am deeply interested just now In the Japanese conception of thetransmigration of souls."
"How extremely fortunate! It chances to be my favorite theme, but mymental processes are peculiar, and you must permit me to work up towardit somewhat gradually. For instance, as a question leading
that way,how, in the incarnation of this world, do you manage to exist in such ahole of a place?--that is, provided you really reside here."
"Why, I consider this a most delightful nook."
"My reference was to Glencaid."
"Oh! Why, I live from within, not without. Mind and heart, notenvironment, make life, and my time is occupied most congenially. I ambeing faithfully nurtured on the Presbyterian catechism, and alsotrained in the graces of earthly society. These alternate, thuspreparing me for whatever may happen in this world or the next."
His face pictured bewilderment, but also a determination to persevere."An interesting combination, I admit. But from your appearance thiscannot always have been your home?"
"Oh, thank you. I believe not always; but I wonder at your being ableto discern my superiority to these surroundings. And do you know yourquestioning is becoming quite personal? Does that yield me an equalprivilege?"
He bowed, perhaps relieved at thus permitting her to assume theinitiative, and rested lazily back upon the grass, his eyes intentlystudying her face.
"I suppose from your clothes you must be a soldier. What is thatfigure 7 on your hat for?"
"The number of my regiment, the Seventh Cavalry."
Her glance was a bit disdainful as she coolly surveyed him from head tofoot, "I should imagine that a strong, capable-appearing fellow likeyou might do much better than that. There is so much work in the worldworth doing, and so much better pay."
"What do you mean? Is n't a soldier's life a worthy one?"
"Oh, yes, of course, in a way. We have to have soldiers, I suppose;but if I were a man I 'd hate to waste all my life tramping around atsixteen dollars a month."
He smothered what sounded like a rough ejaculation, gazing into herdemure eyes as if she strongly suspected a joke hid in their depths."Do--do you mistake me for an enlisted man?"
"Oh, I did n't know; you said you were a soldier, and that's what Ialways heard they got. I am so glad if they give you more. I was onlygoing to say that I believed I could get you a good place in McCarthy'sstore if you wanted it. He pays sixty-five dollars, and his clerk hasjust left."
Brant stared at her with open mooch, totally unable for the moment todecide whether or not that innocent, sympathetic face masked mischief.Before he succeeded in regaining confidence and speech, she had risento her feet, holding back her skirt with one hand.
"Really, I must go," she announced calmly, drawing back toward theslight opening between the rushes. "No doubt YOU have done fully aswell as you could considering your position in life; but this hasproved another disappointment. You have fallen, far, very far, belowmy ideal. Good-bye."
He sprang instantly erect, his cheeks flushed. "Please don't gowithout a farther word. We seem predestined to misunderstand. I ameven willing to confess myself a fool in the hope of some time beingable to convince you otherwise. You have not even told me that youlive here; nor do I know your name."
She shook her head positively, repressed merriment darkening her eyesand wrinkling the corners of her mouth. "It would be highly improperto introduce myself to a stranger--we Presbyterians never do that."
"But do you feel no curiosity as to who I may be?"
"Why, not in the least; the thought is ridiculous. How very conceitedyou must be to imagine such a thing!"
He was not a man easily daunted, nor did he recall any previousembarrassment in the presence of a young woman. But now he confrontedsomething utterly unique; those quiet eyes seemed to look straightthrough him. His voice faltered sadly, yet succeeded in asking: "Arewe, then, never to meet again? Am I to understand this to be yourwish?"
She laughed. "Really, sir, I am not aware that I have the slightestdesire in the matter. I have given it no thought, but I presume thepossibility of our meeting again depends largely upon yourself, and thesort of society you keep. Surely you cannot expect that I would seeksuch an opportunity?"
He bowed humbly. "You mistake my purpose. I merely meant to ask ifthere was not some possibility of our again coming together sociallythe presence of mutual friends."
"Oh, I scarcely think so; I do not remember ever having met anysoldiers at the social functions here--excepting officers. We areextremely exclusive in Glencaid," she dropped him a mocking courtesy,"and I have always moved in the most exclusive set."
Piqued by her tantalizing manner, he asked, "What particular socialfunctions are about to occur that may possibly open a passage into yourguarded presence?"
She seemed immersed in thought, her face turned partially aside."Unfortunately, I have not my list of engagements here," and sheglanced about at him shyly. "I can recall only one at present, and Iam not even certain--that is, I do not promise--to attend that.However, I may do so. The Miners' Bachelor Club gives a reception andball to-morrow evening in honor of the new schoolmistress."
"What is her name?" with responsive eagerness.
She hesitated, as if doubtful of the strict propriety of mentioning itto a stranger.
"Miss Phoebe Spencer," she said, her eyes cast demurely down.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, in open triumph; "and have I, then, at last madefair capture of your secret? You are Miss Phoebe Spencer."
She drew back still farther within the recesses of the bushes, at hissingle victorious step forward.
"I? Why certainly not. I am merely Miss Spencer's 'star' pupil, soyou may easily judge something of what her superior attainments mustnecessarily be. But I am really going now, and I sincerely trust youwill be able to secure a ticket for to-morrow night; for if you oncemeet this Miss Spencer you will never yield another single thought tome, Mr.--Mr.--" her eyes dancing with laughter--"First LieutenantDonald Brant."
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