CHAPTER VIII
BEGINNING ADVENTURES IN NEW LANDS
In those days travel was not so easy as it is now. I went by carriage toWashington, and thence by stage to the village of York in Pennsylvania,and again by stage thence to Carlisle Barracks, a good road offeringthence into the western countries. In spite of all my grief I was ayoung man, and I was conscious of a keen exhilaration in these myearliest travels. I was to go toward that great West, which then was onthe tongue of all the South, and indeed all the East. I foundPennsylvania old for a hundred years. The men of Western Pennsylvania,Ohio and New York were passing westward in swarms like feeding pigeons.Illinois and Iowa were filling up, and men from Kentucky were passingnorth across the Ohio. The great rivers of the West were then leadingout their thousands of settlers. Presently I was to see those greattrains of white-topped west-bound wagons which at that time made adistinguishing feature of American life.
At this Army post, which then was used as a drilling ground for thecavalry arm, one caught the full flavor of the Western lands, heard thetalk of officers who had been beyond the frontier, and saw troopspassing out for the Western service. Here I heard also, and to myconsternation, quiet conversation among some of the officers, regardingaffairs at our National capital. Buchanan, it seems, was shipping armsand ordnance and supplies to all the posts in the South. Disaffection,fomented by some secret, unknown cause, was spreading among the officersof the Army. I was young; this was my first journey; yet none the lessthese matters left my mind uneasy. I was eager to be back in Virginia,for by every sign and token there certainly was trouble ahead for allwho dwelt near the Potomac.
Next I went on to Harrisburg, and thence took rail up the beautifulSusquehanna valley, deep into and over the mountains. At Pittsburg I,poor provincial, learned that all this country too was very old, andthat adventures must be sought more than a thousand miles to thewestward, yet a continual stir and bustle existed at this river point. Agreat military party was embarking here for the West--two companies ofdragoons, their officers and mounts. I managed to get passage on thisboat to Louisville, and thence to the city of St. Louis. Thus, finally,we pushed in at the vast busy levee of this western military capital.
At that time Jefferson Barracks made the central depot of Armyoperations in the West. Here recruits and supplies were received andreadjusted to the needs of the scattered outposts in the Indian lands.Still I was not in the West, for St. Louis also was old, almost as oldas our pleasant valley back in Virginia. I heard of lands still moreremote, a thousand miles still to the West, heard of great riversleading to the mountains, and of the vast, mysterious plains, of whicheven yet men spoke in awe. Shall I admit it--in spite of grief andtrouble, my heart leaped at these thoughts. I wished nothing so much asthat I might properly and fitly join this eager, hurrying, keen-facedthrong of the west-bound Americans. It seemed to me I heard the voice ofyouth and life beyond, and that youth was blotted out behind me in theblue Virginia hills.
I inquired for Colonel Meriwether about my hotel in the city, but wasunable to get definite word regarding his whereabouts, although theimpression was that he was somewhere in the farther West. This made itnecessary for me to ride at once to Jefferson Barracks. I had at leastone acquaintance there, Captain Martin Stevenson of the Sixth Cavalry, aMaryland man whom we formerly met frequently when he was paying suit toKitty Dillingham, of the Shenandoah country. After their marriage theyhad been stationed practically all of the time in Western posts.
I made my compliments at Number 16 of Officers' Row, their presentquarters at Jefferson. I found Kitty quite as she had been in her youthat home, as careless and wild, as disorderly and as full ofgood-heartedness. Even my story, sad as it was, failed to trouble herlong, and as was her fashion, she set about comforting me, upon herusual principle that, whatever threatened, it were best be blitheto-day.
"Come," she said, "we'll put you up with us, right here. Johnson, takeMr. Cowles' things; and go down to the city at once for his bags."
"But, my dear Mrs. Kitty," I protested, "I can't. I really must begetting on. I'm here on business with Colonel Meriwether."
"Never mind about Colonel Meriwether," rejoined my hostess, "we'll findhim later--he's up the river somewhere. Always take care of theimportant things first. The most important thing in the whole world justnow is the officers' ball to-night. Don't you see them fixing up thedancing platform on Parade? It's just as well the K.O.'s away, becauseto-night the mice certainly are going to play."
It seemed good to hear the voice of friends again, and I was nothingloath to put aside business matters for the time and listen to KittyStevenson's chatter. So, while I hesitated, Johnson had my hat andstick.
The city of St. Louis, I repeat, was then the richest and gayest capitalof the West, the center of the commercial and social life of West andSouth alike. Some of the most beautiful women of the world dwelt there,and never, I imagine, had belles bolder suitors than these who passedthrough or tarried with the Army. What wonder the saying that no Armyman ever passed St. Louis without leaving a heart, or taking one withhim? What wonder that these gay young beauties emptied many an Armypocket for flowers and gems, and only filled many an Army heart withdespondency in return? Sackcloth lay beyond, on the frontier. Ballfollowed ball, one packed reception another. Dinings and sendings offlowers, and evening love-makings--these for the time seemed the mainbusiness of Jefferson Barracks. Social exemptions are always made forArmy men, ever more gallant than affluent, and St. Louis entertainedthese gentlemen mightily with no expectation of equivalent; yetoccasionally the sons of Mars gave return entertainments to the limits,or more than the limits, of their purses. The officers' balls at thesebarracks were the envy of all the Army; and I doubt if any regimentalbands in the service had reason for more proficiency in waltz time.
Of some of these things my hostess advised me as we sat, for the sake ofthe shade, on the gallery of Number 16, where Stevenson's man of allwork had brought a glass-topped table and some glasses. Here CaptainStevenson presently joined us, and after that escape was impossible.
"Do you suppose Mr. Cowles is engaged?" asked Kitty of her husbandimpersonally, and apropos of nothing that I could see.
"I don't think so. He looks too deuced comfortable," drawled Stevenson.I smiled.
"If he isn't engaged he will be before morning," remarked Kitty, smilingat me.
"Indeed, and to whom, pray?" I inquired.
"How should I know? Indeed, how should you know? Any one of adozen--first one you see--first one who sees you; because you are tall,and can dance."
"I hardly think I should dance."
"Of course you will dance. If you refuse you will be put in irons andtaken out to-morrow and shot. It will do you no good to sit and think,poor boy."
"I have no clothes," I protested.
"Johnson will have your boxes out in time. But you don't want your ownclothes. This is _bal masque_, of course, and you want some sort ofdisguise, I think you'd look well in one of Matt's uniforms."
"That's so," said Stevenson, "we're about of a size. Good disguise, too,especially since you've never been here. They'll wonder who the newofficer is, and where he comes from. I say, Kitty, what an awfully goodjoke it would be to put him up against two or three of those heartlessflirts you call your friends--Ellen, for instance."
"There won't be a button left on the uniform by morning," said Kittycontemplatively. "To-night the Army entertains."
"And conquers," I suggested.
"Sometimes. But at the officers' ball it mostly surrenders. The casualtylist, after one of these balls, is something awful. After all, Jack, allthese modern improvements in arms have not superceded the old bow andarrow." She smiled at me with white teeth and lazy eyes. A handsomewoman, Kitty.
"And who is that dangerous flirt you were talking about a moment ago?" Iasked her, interested in spite of myself.
"I lose my mess number if I dare to tell. Oh, they'll all be hereto-night, both Army and civilians. There's Sadie Gal
loway of the Eighth,and Toodie Devlin of Kentucky, and the Evans girl from up North, andMrs. Willie Weiland--"
"And Mrs. Matthew Stevenson."
"Yes, myself, of course; and then besides, Ellen."
"Ellen who?"
"Never mind. She is the most dangerous creature now at large in theWestern country. Avoid her! Pass not by her! She stalketh by night.She'll get you sure, my son. She has a string of hearts at her will aslong as from here to the red barn."
"I shall dance to-night," I said. "If you please, I will dance with her,the first waltz."
"Yes?" She raised her eyebrows. "You've a nice conceit, at least. But,then, I don't like modest men."
"Listen to that," chuckled Stevenson, "and yet she married me! But whatshe says is true, Cowles. It will be worse than Chapultepec in the crowdanywhere around Ellen to-night. You might lose a leg or an arm in thecrush, and if you got through, you'd only lose your heart. Better leaveher alone."
"Lord, what a night it'll be for the ball," said Kitty, sweeping an idlearm toward Parade, which was now filling up with strings of carriagesfrom the city. We could see men now putting down the dancing floor. Thesun was sinking. From somewhere came the faint sound of band music,muffled behind the buildings.
"Evening gun!" said Stevenson presently, and we arose and saluted as thejet of smoke burst from a field piece and the roar of the report broughtthe flag fluttering down. Then came strains of a regimental band,breaking out into the national air; after which the music slid into ahurrying medley, and presently closed in the sweet refrain of "RobinAdair," crooning in brass and reeds as though miles away. Twilight beganto fall, and the lamps winked out here and there. The sound of wheelsand hoofs upon the gravel came more often. Here and there a birdtwittered gently in the trees along the walks; and after a time musiccame again and again, for four bands now were stationed at the fourcorners of the Parade. (And always the music began of war and deeds, andalways it ended in some soft love strain.) Groups gathered now upon thebalconies near the marquees which rose upon the Parade. Couples strolledarm in arm. The scene spoke little enough of war's alarms or of life'sbattles and its sadness.
A carriage passed with two gentlemen, and drew up at the Officers' Club."Billy Williams, adjutant," commented Captain Stevenson lazily. "Who'sthe other?"
"Yes, who's the tall one?" asked Kitty, as the gentlemen descended fromthe carriage. "Good figure, anyhow; wonder if he dances."
"Coming over, I believe," said Stevenson, for now the two turned ourway. Stevenson rose to greet his fellow officer, and as the latterapproached our stoop, I caught a glance at his companion.
It was Gordon Orme!
Orme was as much surprised on his own part. After the presentations allaround he turned to me with Kitty Stevenson. "My dear Madam," he said,"you have given me the great pleasure of meeting again my shadow, Mr.Cowles, of Virginia. There is where I supposed him now, back home inVirginia."
"I should expect to meet Mr. Orme if I landed on the moon," I replied.
"Er--Captain Orme," murmured Adjutant Williams to me gently.
So then my preacher had turned captain since I saw him last!
"You see, Stevenson," went on Williams easily, "Captain Orme wasformerly with the British Army. He is traveling in this country for alittle sport, but the old ways hang to him. He brings letters to ourColonel, who's off up river, and meantime. I'm trying to show him what Ican of our service."
"So good of you to bring Captain Orme here, Major. I'm sure he will joinus to-night?" Kitty motioned toward the dancing pavilion, now well underway. Orme smiled and bowed, and declared himself most happy. Thus in afew moments he was of our party. I could not avoid the feeling that itwas some strange fate which continually brought us two together.
"The Army's rotten for want of service," grumbled Williams, followingout his own pet hobby. "Nothing in the world to do for our fellows here.Sport? Why, Captain Orme, we couldn't show you a horse race where I'dadvise you to bet a dollar. The fishing doesn't carry, and the shootingis pretty much gone, even if it were the season. Outside of a pigeonmatch or so, this Post is stagnant. We dance, and that's all. Bah!"
"Why, Major, you old ingrate," reproved Kitty Stevenson. "If you talkthat way we'll not let you on the floor to-night."
"You spoke of pigeon shooting," said Orme lazily, "Blue rocks, Iimagine?"
"No," said Williams, "Natives--we use the wild birds. Thousands of themaround here, you know. Ever do anything at it?"
"Not in this country," replied Orme. "Sometimes I have taken on a matchat Hurlingham; and we found the Egyptian pigeons around Cairo not bad."
"Would you like to have a little match at our birds?"
"I shouldn't mind."
"Oh, you'll be welcome! We'll take your money away from you. There isBardine--or say, Major Westover. Haskins of the Sixth got eighty-fiveout of his last hundred. Once he made it ninety-two, but that's aboveaverage, of course."
"You interest me," said Orme, still lazily. "For the honor of my countryI shouldn't mind a go with one of your gentlemen. Make it at a hundred,for what wagers you like."
"And when?"
"To-morrow afternoon, if you say; I'm not stopping long, I am afraid.I'm off up river soon."
"Let's see," mused Williams. "Haskins is away, and I doubt if Westovercould come, for he's Officer of the Day, also bottle-washer. And--"
"How about my friend Mr. Cowles?" asked Orme. "My acquaintance with himmakes me think he'd take on any sort of sporting proposition. Do youshoot, sir?"
"All Virginians do," I answered. And so I did in the field, although Ihad never shot or seen a pigeon match in all my life.
"Precisely. Mrs. Stevenson, will you allow this sort of talk?"
"Go on, go on," said Kitty. "I'll have something up myself on Mr.Cowles." ("Don't let him scare you, Jack," she whispered to me aside.)
That was a foolish speech of hers, and a foolish act of mine. But for mypart, I continually found myself doing things I should not do.
Orme passed his cigarette case. "In view of my possibly greaterexperience," he said, "I'd allow Mr. Cowles six in the hundred."
"I am not looking for matches," said I, my blood kindling at hisaccustomed insolence; "but if I shot it would be both men at scratch."
"Oh, very well," smiled Orme. "And should we make a little wager aboutit--I ask your consent, Mrs. Stevenson?"
"America forever!" said Kitty.
What could I do after that? But all at once I thought of my scanty purseand of the many troubles that beset me, and the strange unfitness in oneof my present situation engaging in any such talk. In spite of that, mystubborn blood had its way as usual.
"My war chest is light," I answered, "as I am farther away from homethan I had planned. But you know my black horse, Mr. Orme, that youfancied?"
"Oh, by Jove! I'll stake you anything you like against him--a thousandpounds, if you like."
"The odds must be even," I said, "and the only question is as to theworth of the horse. That you may not think I overvalue him, however,make it half that sum, or less, if these gentlemen think the horse hasnot that value."
"A son of old Klingwalla is worth three times that," insisted Orme. "Ifyou don't mind, and care to close it, we'll shoot to-morrow, if MajorWilliams will arrange it."
"Certainly," said that gentleman.
"Very well," I said.
"And we will be so discourteous to the stranger within our gates," saidthe vivacious Kitty, "as to give you a jolly good beating, Captain Orme.We'll turn out the Post to see the match. But now we must be makingready for the serious matters of the evening. Mr. Orme, you dance, ofcourse. Are you a married man--but what a question for me to ask--ofcourse you're not!"
Orme smiled, showing his long, narrow teeth. "I've been a bit busy forthat," he said; "but perhaps my time has come."
"It surely has," said Kitty Stevenson. "I've offered to wager Mr. Cowlesanything he liked that he'd be engaged before twelve o'clock. Look,isn't it nicely done?"
"Now, I wonder who is this Ellen?" mused I to myself.
GORDON ORME LAUGHS AT ELLEN'S ACCUSATION OF HISTREACHERY]
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