by Anthology
"Oh, yes — he won his promotion in that battle, didn't he?"
"He certainly did, and a nervy bit of work it was — about as nervy as I've ever seen." He spoke with the air of a veteran replete with the memories of twenty campaigns; but the Professor, remembering that this child had seen grown men savagely intent on killing each other; had probably killed men himself and, at all events, been for hours in imminent danger of being killed, forbore to smile; and instead humbly begged for the story his companion was plainly only too anxious to tell.
"Well," said the lieutenant, "of course, as far as the battle itself goes, my observations weren't very extensive. Line officer doesn't see much except what's right in front of him. But as I understand the situation, it was something like this. The Chinese were spread out in a big semicircle from Yentai to Pen-hsi-hu on the Taitsz river and covered Liaoyang. St. John's plan was to come down from the north with six divisions and deliver a frontal attack, while six more turned the position at Pen-hsi-hu, crumpled up the Chinese right, and drove it down the Taitsz valley onto the centre and left. It was really the start of an enveloping movement, though with the force we had, we couldn't hope to do much more'n dislodge the Chinese from their position and drive 'em back on Liaoyang, where the decisive battle was to come off later on. My division was on the extreme right of the direct attack and the 92nd was in reserve.
"We didn't see much of the first day's fightin'. St. John was just feelin' along the Chinese line and it was mostly cavalry'n air scouts, with a little burst of firin' when the advanced lines of the two armies came into contact. Second day started out more lively. We could hear the guns goin' hot and heavy in front of us and once a shell dropped onto the 4th battalion next to us'n wiped out a couple of squads. What with one thing and another and the heavy work we'd had before, my battalion was down to about 800 men. We'd lost a lot of officers an' a couple of days before, I'd been made acting adjutant.
"Pretty soon rumours began to drift back from the firin'-line that things were goin' kind of bad. The Chinese were holdin' like a wall an' our boys were droppin' fast. I asked Smith what he thought about it, an' he said it looked to him as though the enemy were massin' on our right and gettin' ready to try'n outflank us. All the time the wounded were passin' through our lines in a steady stream, and what they had to say — those who felt like sayin' anything — was far from encouragin'. By and by, our regiment was sent in, my battalion still bein' in reserve, an' a little later — along about two o'clock — an aid rode up to my major, an' then the order came for us to advance. 'It's up to us,' says Smith; 'the whole front's breakin' an' we've got to hold 'em off till the reserves come up.' We started off at the double in column of squads an' as we got close to the firin'-line, we began to meet bits of broken companies that'd had all they could stand an' were headed for the rear. Some of 'em cheered when they saw us comin', and stopped an' joined us. Then our boys began to drop an' we deployed.
"The young officer paused to light his cigar, which had gone out during the recital, and Jim was conscious that his own breath was coming rapidly and that a curious excitement was making his nerves tingle.
"The Chinese had just delivered an attack an' though the lines had held, they were in bad shape an' there were some pretty big gaps. 'We're to hold the line an' give the broken battalions a chance to form again behind us,' says Smith to me, an' then he looked through his glasses across to where the enemy were gettin' ready for another assault. 'Hell,' he says, 'we'll never do it in God's world. There must be a brigade of 'em, an' they'll be round our flanks in two minutes.' Hopkins saw it, too, an' I saw one of his aids go off at a tearing gallop to General Wilson, the division commander. Then the Colonel came over to Smith. 'We can't hold 'em, Major,' he says. 'I know we can't,' says Smith. 'There's just one thing to do.' 'You'll be wiped out,' says Hopkins excitedly. 'I'll gain fifteen minutes,' says Smith coolly, 'an' the reserves'll be up by that time. It's got to be done, if I have to lose every man.' ' Mind,' says Hopkins, 'I don't order you to go — 'specially without authority from General Wilson.' 'There isn't time for that,' says my Major, 'I'll take the responsibility.' 'God help you! ' says Hopkins, an' then my Major ordered the battalion to advance."
The officers around them were all listening by this time, and a little outburst of approving nods ran about the circle.
"We started off at double time, the whole four companies in line, an' the Major an' myself an' the battalion sergeant-major in front of the centre. The Chinese were advancin' again, firm' as they came on, an' our men were goin' down by dozens. The ground was pretty uneven an' in their hurry to get at us, the Chinese formation had got a bit broken. Smith saw his chance like a flash an' signalled for a charge. I don't believe any human beings could stand up to a line of bayonets comin' as ours was. 'Tisn't in human nature — even Oriental human nature. The Chinese broke an' ran for their lives an' we after 'em, stabbin' an' cuttin' for all we were worth. There was an old cart track in front of us that gave a little cover, an' Smith halted us here an' commenced smashing in volleys as fast as the boys could pull trigger. But the Chinese batteries were hammerin' away at us an' the boys were droppin' — droppin' right along. 'It'll be every man sure enough,' yells the Major in my ear. 'There isn't half the battalion left.' His cap was gone, an' the whole side of his face was bloody from a bullet graze on his cheek, an' his uniform was torn an' black with sweat. I'd had two fingers taken off my left hand,- but I didn't care 's'long's I could still shoot. The Chinese had gotten over their scare by this time, an' were massin' to come over an' clean us up. Then I looked to the rear an' there was our whole line sweepin' forward. Wilson hadn't forgotten, an' was comin' to relieve us. 'We've done enough,' says Smith. 'Let's get out of this.' So we got out — what was left of us."
There was a short silence when the young lieutenant had ended, which was at length broken by the infantry major asking for the casualties.
"Sixty per cent, and over," returned the boy with proudly flashing eyes. "All killed or wounded — not one missing!"
"Great God!" exclaimed Merriam; "what a sacrifice!"
They had left Harbin far behind and as the day slowly wore away, passed K'uan-ch'eng-tzu and rumbled steadily onward through the night towards T'iehling and Mukden. Occasionally they passed long trainloads of wounded, the overflow from the hospital in Liaoyang, and once they were held on a siding while a heavy troop train roared by, bound for the lines in the south. The young lieutenant nudged Merriam, who slept but little, and whispered that it was a Swedish battalion belonging to the 8th corps, and that it betokened the early capitulation of the Japanese army in Vladivostok, for the 8th corps had been on the eastern front since the opening of the campaign.
The second day dawned and still the train ran endlessly on through the level plain of Manchuria. Noon brought them to Mukden and four hours later, they reached Liaoyang, where a lengthy stop was made. The city bore ample witness to the desperate character of the recent struggle for its possession in its blackened and crumbling house-walls and riddled railway station. The place swarmed with soldiers, and here, for the first time, Merriam saw a group of Chinese prisoners, northward bound — sullen-looking men in drab uniforms and putties the colour of yellowish sand, and fur caps against the cold weather.
After leaving Liaoyang, the train fairly crawled, and night was already coming on when it finally halted in the midst of an open plain. Merriam, cramped and stiff, roused himself with some difficulty, the young lieutenant generously giving him a hand with his baggage, and arriving rather ungracefully on the hard-packed earth of the road-bed, looked about him. His companion had mysteriously disappeared and searching vainly with his eyes among the throng for some trace of him, Jim was aware of a worried-looking officer, who surveyed his unmilitary garments suspiciously and demanded his credentials. The functionary thawed immediately, however, upon beholding the imposing signatures on the Professor's papers, and in reply to the latter's inquiries, told him that he was in luck, inasmuch as the 92nd was encam
ped scarcely a mile distant, it being the turn of that regiment to recuperate after the strain of five days on the fighting-line. At this point, and just as Jim was considering dubiously his probable chances of arriving at any fixed locality amid such novel surroundings and questioning in his mind the wisdom of asking the provost marshal's representative, who was still examining his pass, for a guide, the lieutenant suddenly reappeared and offered to conduct him to the quarters of Colonel Smith forthwith.
The distance proved to be more nearly two miles than one, but Merriam did not grumble, being so close to the end of his long journey, and his companion, delighted at the prospect of "seeing a little of the fun again," as he expressed it, radiated irresistible high spirits and good humour. At length, when they had tramped steadily forward for something like half an hour, the lieutenant uttered an exclamation of satisfaction and pointed to a line of shelters, half tent and half rude hut, which, he said, marked the abiding-place of the 92nd regiment when not in the trenches. A small group of officers stood around a low fire at a little distance from them and, recognising some of his comrades in the assemblage, the Professor's companion approached and inquired as to the whereabouts of the commander.
"Colonel Smith?" said a lean Yankee, who wore the bars of a captain on his overcoat and whose voice was strangely suggestive of some peaceful New England village nestled among green-crested hills; "I left him over by the machine-gun section not five minutes ago."
"This way," said the lieutenant to Merriam. "Lord, but it's good to be back again!"
They skirted the row of hovels and presently a tall figure loomed before them through the gathering dusk. His face was turned away from them, but in spite of the disguising shroud of the big army overcoat, Jim felt instinctively that the search was ended. A flood of long-forgotten recollections rose in his mind and hysterical words trembled on his lips. His memory brushed aside the intervening months and he half believed that he would see his friend as he had formerly known him, radiant with life and hope and the splendour of vigorous manhood. But this man — this bearded officer whose face and uniform were blackened and incrusted with dirt, whose features were worn and scarred and lined with the sadness of an overwhelming sorrow — could this be Leslie Gardiner?
"Hello, Schuyler," said the Colonel. "Glad to see you again. You're just in time for the Haicheng party."
"I've brought a friend of yours, sir," replied the lieutenant, saluting, and he drew Merriam forward. For an instant Leslie stared as though he doubted the evidence of his eyes.
"Great heavens above!" he exclaimed suddenly; "it's Jim!"
"Les, old man," said Merriam huskily, and the Colonel straightened up sharply at the unfamiliar sound of his own name; "it's I, and — and I've come to take you home."
Chapter XXII
Merriam Finds His Luck At Last
THEY were talking in the Colonel's quarters, a tiny apartment with low walls of mud and millet stalks roofed with canvas. The dim lantern-light threw vague shadows in the corners and was reflected dully from the brown paint on the scabbarded sword that hung, swaying slightly, from its peg near the door.
"I'm the last man to blame you, Jim," said Leslie after a long pause. "God knows, I'm the last man to blame you. You were tried beyond human endurance, and the only wonder to me is that you held out so long."
"I thought it was better to tell you the whole story," Merriam answered. "It's a relief to me to have you know, and perhaps it will help you to see your way more clearly."
"I'm glad you did," the Colonel replied; "very glad."
"You'll go back to her, Les?"
"I can't, Jim — at least, not until this business is finished. I'm needed here, and it's a great comfort to me to know that I am." He hesitated and studied thoughtfully for a while the curling blue-grey smoke arising from the end of the cigar which his friend had given to him. "Jim," he went on at length, "suppose I hold to my resolution. Suppose I stay here in the East, as I've sworn to do. Suppose I stick to the vow I made months ago that I'd never see America again. Suppose I leave you a free field and ask you — yes, urge you — to go ahead. Do you think you could win her then?"
"It's not good enough, Les," answered Merriam sadly; "I think if you'd died as we all believed you had, I'd have married her on the chance that some time in the future she might have learned to care for me. I even think if I'd known you were still alive, and at the same time found that her heart held a little love for me, I'd have tried for her. After all, Les, I'm only a man —"
"I understand," said the Colonel quickly, as his friend broke off and looked at him appealingly; "it would have been only your right."
"I'd have let you know, of course," continued the Professor hurriedly, "so that the contest would have been a fair one. — But it's not I, Les. She never thought of me as anything but an old friend and she never will. It was you from the first evening she met you. I knew it was you before you even asked her. I knew it was you that night you told me that you loved her and asked me what I thought your chances were. She wants you, Les, and needs you — never more than now. She's been brave — braver even than I, who knew her so well, believed that it was in her power to be — but it's killing her. You brought love into her life, Les, and you've no right to withhold it now. Go back to her, Les, and pray God for the power to wipe out from her heart the memory of all she's suffered for your sake. Go back to her — it's a higher duty than any that might keep you here — you owe it to her — you must."
In the silence that followed, their heavy breathing was plainly audible and the ring of the sentry's boots on the hard ground outside came to them like the sharp stroke of steel on steel.
"What'll you do, Jim? "asked Leslie finally. "Your life is worth something to the world. I can't let you throw it away."
"I have my work," returned the other. "That will fill my life and help me to forget. I won't let this ruin me, Les — I promise you that. Every man's got to go forward, once he sets out, and it won't help him any — to say nothing of the others — if he tries to disobey the law and hold back. I don't understand why this should come to me — what I've ever done to merit such punishment — but I do know that I must fight it out to the finish and win, and by the living God, I will!"
He brought his clenched fist down on the little table with a force that made it bend and crack and leaning quickly forward, the Colonel gripped his friend's hand in both of his own.
"You're a real man, Jim," he said with a sudden catch in his voice. "I wish I could say as much for myself."
"I'm not the only one, Les," replied Merriam more gently. "You've known what it was to face a hard proposition — one that took every ounce of the manhood you had in you — too. I — forgive me, old man, but I've hardly been myself lately — I didn't give you credit for suffering as I can see you have. I was blind to any side of the case but hers — and mine. Perhaps if I'd been more just to you, I wouldn't have given way so easily."
"And I — how does the old saying run? 'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.' Jim, I'm beginning to think that my honour and reputation were hardly worth the price I've put upon them. Were they such tremendous matters that, because of them, I should make her suffer and you, too? I believed I was doing right, and yet — and yet I'm afraid there was a good deal of vanity in that, after all. You're right, Jim, and Tommy was right — I made a god of my own good name and worshipped it blindly, never heeding that you and Evelyn were part of the sacrifice I offered up for its greater glory. Heaven send us understanding! Jim, as soon as the war's over, I'm going home. And to-night I'm going to write to Evelyn and ask her forgiveness for the wrong I've done her." He stopped and knitted his brows as if pondering whether or not he should give utterance to the thought that was in his mind, but presently resumed, though with an effort. "Perhaps I shouldn't say this — it's almost too big a thing for a man to do anything with but keep in his heart. But it's just this, Jim. You stood aside and left me free to gain her love if I could — even gave me what help was in your
power. And you did this although you wanted her yourself. Now you've come to me to take me back to her again, even though you knew my selfish obstinacy stood in the way — even though you knew you were tearing out your heart by the roots and blotting out the last hope that remained to you. 'Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend.' And it's more than your life, Jim — this that you've laid down for me."
Outside, the bitter night wind arose and roared about the corners of the hovel, and above its wailing note rang out clear and distinct the sharp challenge of the sentry at the door. "Who goes there?" "Relief!" "Halt, relief! Advance one —" And then the stamping of men and the clatter of arms and accoutrements as the guard moved on to the next post. But though the lonely sentries on the outskirts of the camp beat frozen hands together, and with stiffening lips hurled deep-throated curses at the biting cold; though the soldiers in their meagre shelters stirred uneasily and restlessly moved their fast-numbing limbs, within the Colonel's quarters the icy wind was hardly noticed, for the spirit of friendship burned clear and steady and warmed the hearts of the two men with its bright glow.
"I think I'd write to Mabs first, Les," said Merriam, breaking the long silence that followed Gardiner's last words. "She knows the whole story and can tell the news to Eve without startling her too much. I must be off again for America to-morrow morning. I left things hanging in the air at the university, and the sooner I get back, the better."
"I'd like like the devil to have you stay a while, Jim," said the Colonel. "But I guess the quicker you get out of here, the better off you'll be. This place is alive with bugs of various kinds — impossible to keep 'em out. As you can see, we don't wash much — even the Britishers quit trying to after the cold weather came on. Most of us haven't had our uniforms off— though, Lord knows, there isn't much uniform about them in the ball-room sense of the word — since along in October. We've just reverted wholesale to the animal state, Jim. In fact I've seen lots of pigs that were considerably cleaner than we are. Besides, I don't think it's the safest place in the world for a man who hasn't been hardened and inoculated for all the standard diseases in the category the way the troops have. First and last, there's a good deal of sickness knocking around among the non-combatants. And you're in excellent condition to pick up anything of the kind that might come your way. You don't look any too well right now."