The Reckoning

  CHAPTER VIII

  DESTINY

  On Sunday, having risen early--though not so early as the post relief,whose day begins as soon as a sentry can see clearly for a thousandyards--I dressed me by the rosy light of the rising sun, and, before Ibreakfasted, wrote a long letter to my parents, who, as I have said,were now residing near Paris, where my great-grandfather's estate lay.

  When I had finished my letter, sanded and sealed it, I went out toleave it with the packages of post matter collected from the Frenchregiments across the Hudson, and destined for France by an earlypacket, which was to sail as soon as the long-expected French fleetarrived from the West Indies.

  I delivered my letter to the staff-officer detailed for that duty, andthen, hearing military music, went back to the Blue Fox in time to seea funeral of an officer slowly passing eastward, gun-carriage, horses,men, in strange silhouette against the level and dazzling white disk ofthe rising sun. Truly, the slow cortege seemed moving straight into theflaming gates of heaven, the while their solemn music throbbed andthrobbed with the double drum-beat at the finish of each line. The tunewas called "Funeral Thoughts." They changed to "Roslyn Castle" as theycrossed the bridge; yet an hour had scarce passed when I heard theirvolley-firing not very far away, and back they came, the Fife-Majorleading, drums, fifes, and light-infantry horns gaily sounding "ThePioneer," and the men swinging back briskly to fall in with the Churchdetails, now marching in from every direction to the admonitory timingof a single drum-beat.

  The music had awakened Elsin, and presently she came a-tapping at mydoor, barefoot, her cardinal tightly wrapped around her, hair tumbled,drowsily rubbing her heavy lids.

  "Good morning, Carus," she said sleepily. "I should dearly like to heara good, strong sermon on damnation to-day--being sensible of my presentstate of sin, and of yours. Do they preach hell-fire in Rebeldom?"

  "The landlord says that Hazen's mixed brigade and other troops go toservice in the hay-field above the bridge," I answered, laughing."Shall we ride thither?"

  She nodded, yawning, then pulling her foot-mantle closer about hershoulders, pattered back into her chamber, and I went below and orderedour horses saddled, and breakfast to be served us as soon as might be.

  And so it happened that, ere the robins had done caroling their morningsongs, and the far, sweet anthems of the hermit-birds still rang indewy woodlands, Elsin and I dismounted in Granger's hay-field just asthe troops marched up in a long, dense column, the massed music of manyregiments ahead, but only a single drum timing the steady tread.

  All was done in perfect decorum and order. A hay-wagon was the pulpit;around it the drummers piled their drums, tier rising on tier; theensigns draped the national colors over the humble platform, settingregimental and state standards at the corners; and I noted there somecurious flags, one borne by a Massachusetts battalion, white, with agreen tree on it; another, a yellow naval flag with a coiledrattlesnake; another, carried by a company of riflemen, on which wasthis design:

  1776. XI VIRGINIA REG'T,

  and I knew that I was looking upon the famous regimental standard ofMorgan's Rifles.

  Without confusion, with only a low-spoken command here and there,battalion after battalion marched up, stacked arms, forming three sidesof a hollow square, the pulpit, with its flags and tiers of drums,making the fourth side. The men stood at ease, hands loosely claspedand hanging in front of them. The brigade chaplain quietly crossed thesquare to his rude pulpit, mounted it, and, as he bowed his head inprayer, every cocked hat came off, every head was lowered.

  Country-folk, yokels, farmers, had gathered from all directions;invalids from the camp hospitals were there, too, faces clay-color,heads and limbs heavily bandaged. One of these, a sergeant of the NewYork line, who wore a crimson heart sewed on his breast, was led to hisplace between two comrades, he having both eyes shot out; and thechaplain looked at him hard for a moment, then gave out the hymn,leading the singing in a deep, full voice:

  "Through darkest night I know that Thou canst see. Night blinds my sight, Yet my small voice shall praise Thee constantly. Under Thy wing, Whose shadow blinds mine eyes, Fearless I sing Thy sweetness and Thy mercy to the skies!"

  The swelling voices of the soldiers died away. Standing there betweenour horses, Elsin's young voice still echoing in my ears, I looked upat the placid face of the preacher, saw his quiet glance sweep thecongregation, saw something glimmer in his eyes, and his lips tightenas he laid open his Bible, and, extending his right arm, turn to thesouth, menacing the distant city with his awful text:

  "The horseman lifteth up the bright sword and the glittering spear!

  "Woe to the bloody city! The chariots shall rage in the streets, theyshall jostle one against another in the _broad ways_! They shall seemlike torches, they shall run like the lightnings. They shall make hasteto the wall; the defense shall be prepared.

  "For that day is a day of wrath, a day of trouble and distress, a dayof darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and thick darkness.

  "A day of the trumpet and alarm against _fenced cities_, and againsthigh towers.

  "For the horseman lifteth up the bright sword.... Woe to the bloodycity!"

  Out over the sunlit fields rang the words of Zephaniah and of Nahum. Isaw the motionless ranks suddenly straighten; a thousand sunburnedfaces were upturned, a thousand pairs of eyes fastened themselves uponthe steady eyes of the preacher.

  For an hour he spoke to them, beginning with his Excellency'sever-to-be-remembered admonition: "To the character of a patriot itshould be our highest glory to add the more distinguished character ofa Christian"; then continued upon that theme nearest the hearts of all,the assault upon New York, which everybody now deemed imminent,thrilling the congregation with hope, inspiring them with highendeavor. I remember that he deprecated revenge, although the score washeavy enough! I remember he preached dignity and composure inadversity, mercy in victory, and at the word his voice rang withprophecy, and the long ranks stirred as dry leaves stir in a suddenwind.

  When at last he asked the blessing, and the ranks had knelt in thestubble, Elsin and I on our knees breathed the Amen, lifted oursun-dazzled eyes, and rose together to mount and ride back through thedust to the Blue Fox, where we were to confer concerning thelong-delayed letter which decency required us to write to Sir Peter andLady Coleville, and also take counsel in other matters touching thefuture, which seemed as obscure as ever.

  Since that first visit from Colonel Hamilton I had received orders fromheadquarters to be ready to leave for the north at an hour's notice,and that suitable quarters would be ready at West Point for my wife.

  There were a dozen officers lodged at the tavern, but my acquaintancewith them advanced nothing beyond a civil greeting, for I cared not tojoin them in the coffee-room, where sooner or later some questionconcerning Elsin must annoy me. It was sufficient that they knew myname and nothing more either of my business or myself or Elsin. Nodoubt some quiet intimation from headquarters had spared us visits fromquartermasters and provost marshals, for nobody interfered with us,and, when at the week's end I called for our reckoning--my habits ofmethod ever uppermost in my mind--the landlord refused to listen,saying that our expenses were paid as long as we remained at the BlueFox, and that if we lacked for anything I was to write to ColonelHamilton.

  This I had done, being sadly in need of fresh linen, and none to be hadin the shops opposite. Also I enclosed a list of apparel urgentlydesired by Elsin, she having writ the copy, which was as long as I amtall; but I sent it, nevertheless, and we expected to hear from ColonelHamilton before evening. For all we had was the clothing we wore on ourbacks, and though for myself I asked nothing but linen, I should havebeen glad of a change of outer garments, too.

  We dined together at our little table by the window, decorouslydiscussing damnation, predestination, and other matters fitting thatsunny Sabbath noontide. And at moments, very, very far away, I heardthe faint sound of churc
h-bells, perhaps near North Castle, perhaps atDobbs Ferry, so sweet, so peaceful, that it was hard to believe ineternal punishment and in a God of wrath; hard, too, to realize thatwar ruled half a continent, and that the very dogs of war, unchained,prowled all around us, fangs bared, watching the sad city at theriver's ends.

  When the servants had removed the cloth, and had fetched the materialsfor writing which I had ordered, we drew our chairs up side by side,and leaned upon the table to confer in regard to a situation whichcould not, of course, continue much longer.

  "The first thing to consider," said I, "is the flag to take you north."And I looked curiously at Elsin.

  "How can we decide that yet?" she asked, aggrieved. "I shall notrequire a flag if we--fall in love."

  "We've had a week to try," I argued, smiling.

  "Yes, but we have not tried; we have been too happy to try. Still,Carus, we promised one another to attempt it."

  "Well, shall we attempt it at once?"

  "Goodness, I'm too lazy, too contented, too happy, to worry over suchsad matters as love!"

  "Well, then, I had better write to Hamilton asking a flag----"

  "I tell you not to hasten!" she retorted pettishly. "Moonlight changesone's ideas. My noonday sentiments never correspond to my evening stateof mind."

  "But," I persisted, "if we only cherish certain sentiments when themoon shines----"

  "Starlight, too, silly! Besides, whenever I take time to think of yourlate peril, I straightway experience a tender sentiment for you. I tellyou be not too hasty to ask a flag for me. Come, let us now considerand be wise. Once in Canada all is ended, for Sir Frederick Haldimandwould sooner see me fall from Cape Eternity to the Saguenay than hearof me in love with you. Therefore I say, let us remember, consider, andawait wisdom."

  "But," I argued, "something must be settled before fresh orders fromheadquarters send me north and you to West Point."

  "Oh, I shall go north, too," she observed calmly.

  "Into battle, for example?" I asked, amused.

  "I shall certainly not let you go into battle all alone! You are a merechild when it comes to taking precaution in danger."

  "You mean you would actually gallop into battle to see I came to nomischief?" I demanded, laughing.

  "Aye, clip my hair and dress the trooper, jack-boots and all, if youdrive me to it!" she exclaimed, irritated. "You may as well know it,Carus; you shall not go floundering about alone, and that's flat! Seewhat a mess of it you were like to make in New York!"

  "Then," said I, still laughing, yet touched to the heart, "I shallinstruct you in the duties and amenities of wedded life, and we may aswell marry and be done with it. Once married, I, of course, shall do asI please in the matter of battles----"

  "No, you shall not! You shall consider me! Do you think to go roamingabout, nose in the air, and leaving me to sit quaking at home, cryingmy eyes out over your foolishness? Do I not already know the terror ofit with you in New York there, and only ten minutes to save your neckfrom Cunningham? Thank you, I am already instructed in the amenities ofwedded life--if they be like the pleasures of betrothal--though I carednot a whit what happened to Walter Butler, it is true, yet fell sick o'worry when you and Rosamund Barry went a-sailing--not that I fearedyou'd drown, either. O Carus, Carus, you distract me, you worry me; youtell me nothing, nothing, and I never knew what you were about there inNew York when you were not with me!--doubtless a-courting everypetticoat on Hanover Square, for all I know!"

  "Well," said I, amazed and perplexed, "if you think, under thecircumstances, there is any prospect of our falling in love aftermarriage, and so continuing, I will wed you--now----"

  "No!" she interrupted angrily; "I shall not marry you, nor even betrothmyself. It may be that I can see you leave me and bid you a fairjourney, unmoved. I would to God I could! I feel that way now, and maycontinue, if I do not fall a-pondering, and live over certain hourswith you that plague me at times into a very passion. But at momentslike this I weary of you, so that all you say and do displeases, andI'm sick of the world and I know not what! O Carus, I am sick oflife--and I dare not tell you why!"

  She rested her head on her hands, staring down at her blurred image,reflected in the polished table-top.

  "I have sometimes thought," she mused, "that the fault lay withyou--somewhat."

  "With me!"

  "That you could force me to love you, if you dared. The rest would notmatter, then. Misery me! I wish that we had never met! And yet I cannot let you go, because you do not know how to care for yourself. Ifyou will sail to France on the next packet, and remain with yourmother, I'll say nothing. I'll go with a flag I care not where--only toknow you are safe. Will you? O Carus, I would my life were done and allended!"

  She was silent for a while, leaning on the table, tracing with herfinger the outline of her dull reflection in the shining surface.Presently she looked up gaily, a smile breaking in her eyes.

  "All that I said is false. I desire to live, Carus. I am not unhappy.Pray you, begin your writing!"

  I drew the paper to me, dipped a quill full of ink from the musty horn,rested my elbow, pen lifted, and began, dating the letter from the BlueFox, and addressing it most respectfully to Sir Peter and LadyColeville.

  First I spoke of the horses we had taken, and would have promisedpayment by draft enclosed, but that Elsin, looking over my shoulder,stayed my pen.

  "Did you not see me leave a pile of guineas?" she demanded. "That wasto pay for our stable theft!"

  "But not for the horse I took?"

  "Certainly, for your horse, too."

  "But you could not know that I was to ride saddle to the Coq d'Or!" Iinsisted.

  "No, but I saddled _two_ horses," she replied, delighted at my wonder,"two horses, monsieur, one of which stood ready in the stalls of the Coqd'Or! So when you came a-horseback, it was not necessary to use thespare mount I had led there at a gallop. _Now_ do you see, Mr. Renault?All this I did for you, inspired by--foresight, which you lack!"

  "I see that you are as wise and witty as you are beautiful!" Iexclaimed warmly, and caught her fingers to kiss them, but she wouldhave none of my caress, urging me to write further, and make suitableexcuse for what had happened.

  "It is not best to confess that we are still unwedded," I said,perplexed.

  "No. They suppose we are; let be as it is," she answered. "And youshall not say that you were a spy, either, for that must only pain SirPeter and his lady. They will never believe Walter Butler, for theythink I fled with you because I could not endure him. And--perhaps Idid," she added; and that strange smile colored her eyes to deepestazure.

  "Then what remains to say?" I asked, regarding her thoughtfully.

  "Say we are happy, Carus."

  "Are you?"

  "Truly I am, spite of all I complain of. Write it!"

  I wrote that we were happy; and, as I traced the words, a curiousthrill set my pen shaking.

  "And that we love--them."

  I wrote it slowly, half-minded to write "one another" instead of"them." Never had I been so near to love.

  "And--and--let me see," she mused, finger on lip--"I think it not tooimpudent to ask their blessing. It _may_ happen, you know, thoughDestiny fight against it; and if it does, why there we have theirblessing all ready!"

  I thought for a long while, then wrote, asking their blessing upon ourwedded union.

  "_That_ word 'wedded,'" observed Elsin, "commits us. Scratch it out. Ihave changed my mind. Destiny may accept the challenge, and smite mewhere I sit."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "I mean--nothing. Yet that word 'wedded' must not stand. It is anaffront to--to Destiny!"

  "I fear nothing from Destiny--with you, Elsin."

  "If you write that word, then, I tell you we must betroth ourselvesthis instant!--and fight Fate to its knees. Dare you?"

  "I am ready," said I coolly.

  She looked at me sidewise in quick surprise, chin resting in herclasped hands. Then she turned,
facing me, dropping her elbows on thepolished table.

  "You would wed me, Carus?" she said slowly.

  "Yes."

  "Because--because--you--love me?"

  "Yes."

  A curious tremor possessed my body; it was not as though I spoke;something within me had stirred and awakened and was twitching at mylips. I stared at her through eyes not my own--eyes that seemed to openon her for the first time. And, as I stared, her face whitened, hereyes closed, and she bowed her head to her hands.

  "Keep pity for others," she said wearily; "keep your charity for somehappier maid who may accept it, Carus. I would if I dared. I have nopride left. But I dare not. This is the end of all, I think. I shallnever ask alms of Love again."

  Then a strange thing happened, quick as a thrust; and my very soulleaped, quivering, smitten through and through with love of her. In theoverwhelming shock I stretched out my hand like a man dazed, touchingher fingers, and the thrill of it seemed to stun me.

  Never, never could I endure to have her look at another as she lookedat me when our hands touched, but I could not utter a word; and I sawher lip quiver, and the hopeless look deaden her eyes again.

  I rose blindly to my feet, speechless, heart hammering at my throat,and made to speak, but could not.

  She, too, had risen, gazing steadily at me; and still I could not uttera word, the blood surging through me and my senses swimming. Love! Itblinded me with its clamor; it frightened me with its rushing tide; itdinned in my ears, it ran riot, sweeping every vein, choking speech,while it surged on, wave on wave mounting in flame.

  She stood there, pallidly uncertain, looking on the conflagration lovehad wrought. Then something of its purport seemed to frighten her, andshe shrank away step by step, passing the portal of her chamber,retreating, yet facing me still, fascinated eyes on mine.

  I heard a voice unlike my own, saying: "I love you, Elsin. Why do yourepulse me?"

  And as she answered nothing, I went to her and took her hand. But thedismayed eyes only widened, the color faded from her parted lips.

  "Can you not see," I whispered, "can you not see I love you?"

  "You--_love_--me!"

  I caught her in my arms. A bright blush stained neck and face, and shethrew back her head, avoiding my lips.

  She threw back her head, avoiding my lips.]

  "Elsin, I beg you--I beg you to love me! Can you not see what you havedone to me?--how I am awakened?"

  "Wait," she pleaded, resisting me, "wait, Carus. I--I am afraid----"

  "Of love, sweetheart?"

  "Wait," she panted--"give me time--till morning--then if I changenot--if my heart stirs again so loudly when you hold me--thus--and--andcrush me so close to you--so close--and promise to love me----"

  "Elsin, Elsin, I love you!"

  "Wait--wait, Carus!--my darling. Oh, you must not--kiss me--until youknow--what I am----"

  Her face burned against mine; her eyes closed. Through the throbbingsilence her head drooped, lower, lower, yielding her mouth to mine;then, with a cry she turned in my arms, twisting to her knees, anddropped her head forward on the bed. And, as I bent beside her, shegasped: "No--no--wait, Carus! I know myself! I know myself! Take yourlips from my hands--do not touch me! My brain has gone blind, I tellyou! Leave me to think--if I can----"

  "I will not leave you here in tears. Elsin, Elsin, look at me!"

  "The tears help me--help us both," she sobbed. "I know what I know.Leave me--lest the very sky fall to crush us in our madness----"

  I bent beside her, a new, fierce tenderness choking me; and at my touchshe straightened up, tear-stained face lifted, and flung both armsaround my neck.

  "I love you, Carus! I love you!" she stammered. "I care for that,only--only for that! If it be for a week, if it be for a day, an hour,an instant, it is what I was made for, it is what I was fashionedfor--to love you, Carus! There is nothing else--nothing else in all theworld! Love me, take me, do with me what you will! I yield all you ask,all you beg, all you desire--all save wedlock!"

  She swayed in my arms. A deadly pallor whitened her; then her kneestrembled and she gave way, sinking to the floor, her head buried in theflowering curtains of the bed; and I to drop on my knees beside her,seeking to lift her face while the sobs shook her slender body, and shewept convulsively, head prostrate in her arms.

  "I--I am wicked!" she wailed. "Oh, I have done that which has damned meforever, Carus!--forever and ever. I can not wed you--I love youso!--yet I can not wed you! What wild folly drove me to go with you?What devil has dragged me here to tempt you--whom I love so truly? Oh,God pity us both--God pity us!"

  "Elsin," I said hoarsely, "you are mad to say it! Is there anything onearth to bar us from wedlock?"

  "Yes, Carus, yes!" she cried. "It is--it is too late!"

  "Too late!" I repeated, stunned.

  "Aye--for I am a wedded wife! Now you know! Oh, this is the end ofall!"

  A while she lay there sobbing her heart out, I upright on my kneesbeside her, staring at blank space, which reeled and reeled, so thatthe room swam all awry, and I strove to steady it with fixed gaze, lestthe whole world come crashing upon us.

  At last she spoke, lifting her tear-marred face from the floor to thebed, forehead resting heavily in her hands:

  "I ask your pardon--for the sin I have committed. Hear me out--that ismy penance; spurn me--that is my punishment!"

  She pressed her wet eyes, shuddering. "Are you listening, Carus? Thenight before I sailed from Canada--_he_ sought me----"

  "Who?" My lips found the question, but no sound came.

  "Walter Butler! O God! that I have done this thing!"

  In the dreadful silence I heard her choking back the cry that strangledher. And after a while she found her voice again: "I was a child--avain, silly thing of moods and romance, ignorant of men, innocent ofthe world, flattered by the mystery with which he cloaked his passion,awed, fascinated by this first melancholy lover who had wrung from methrough pity, through vanity, through a vague fear of him, perhaps, apromise of secret betrothal."

  She lifted her head and set her chin on one clinched hand, yet neverlooked at me:

  "Sir Frederick was abed; I all alone in the great arms-gallery, nose tothe diamond window-panes, and looking out at the moon--and waiting forhim. Suddenly I saw him there below.... Heaven is witness I meant noharm nor dreamed of any. He was not alone. My heart and my affectionswere stirred to warmth--I sailing from Canada and friends next day atdawn--and I went down to the terrace and out among the trees where hestood, his companion moving off among the trees. I had come only to bidhim the farewell I had promised, Carus--I never dreamed of what hemeant to do."

  She cleared her hair from her brow.

  "I--I swear to you, Carus, that never has Walter Butler so much as laidthe weight of his little finger on my person! Yet he swayed methere--using that spell of melancholy, clothed in romance--and--I knownot how it was--or how I listened, or how consented--it is scarce morethan a dreadful dream--the trees in the moonlight, his voice so gentle,so pitiful, trembling, beseeching--and he had brought aclergyman"--again her hands covered her eyes--"and, ere I was aware ofit, frightened, stunned in the storm of his passion, he had his way withme. The clergyman stood between us, saying words that bound me. I heardthem, I was mute, I shrank from the ring, yet suffered it--for even ashe ringed me he touched me not with his hand. Oh, if he had, I think thespell had broken!"

  Again her tears welled up, falling silently; and presently the strengthreturned to her voice, and she went on:

  "From the first moment that I saw you, Carus, I understood what lovemight be. From the very first I closed my ears to the quick cry ofcaution. I saw you meet coquetry unmoved, I knew the poison of my firstpassion was in me, stealing through every vein; and every moment withyou was the more hopeless for me. I played a hundred roles--you smiledindifference on all. A mad desire to please you grew with your amusedimpatience of me. Curiosity turned to jealousy. I longed for youraffection as I never
longed for anything on earth--or heaven. I hadnever had a lover to love before. O Carus, I had never loved, and lovecrazed me! Day after day I wondered if I had been fashioned to inspirelove in such a man as you. I was bewildered by my passion and yourcoldness; yet had I not been utterly mad I must have known the awfulend of such a flame once kindled. But could I inspire love? Could youlove me? That was all in the world I cared about--thinking nothing ofthe end, knowing all hope was dead for me, and nothing in life unlessyou loved me. O Carus, if I have inspired one brief moment oftenderness in you, deal mercifully with the sin! Guilty as I am, falseas I am, I can not add a lie and say that I am sorry that you love me,that for one blessed moment you said you loved me. Now it is ended. Ican not be your wife. I am too mean, too poor a thing for hate. Dealwith me gently, Carus, lest your wrath strike me dead here at the altarof outraged Love!"

  I rose to my feet, feeling blindly for support, and rested against thegreat carved columns of the bed. A cold rage froze me, searching everyvein with icy numbness that left me like a senseless thing. Thatpassed; I roused, breathing quietly and deeply, and looked about,furtive, lest the familiar world around had changed to ashes, too.

  Presently my dull senses were aware of what was at my feet, kneelingthere, face buried in clasped hands, too soft, too small, too frail tohold a man's whole destiny. And, as I bent to kiss them, I scarce daredclasp them, scarce dared lift her to my arms, scarce dared meet thefrightened wonder in her eyes, and the full sweetness of them, and thelove breaking through their azure, as I think day must dawn inparadise!

  "Now, in the name of God," I breathed, "we two, always forever one,through life, through death, here upon earth, and afterward! I wed younow with heart and soul, and ring your body with my arms! I stand yourchampion, I kneel your lover, Elsin, till that day breaks on a redreckoning with him who did this sin! Then I shall wed you. Will youtake me?"

  She placed her hands on my shoulders, gazing at me from her very soul.

  "You need not wed me--so that you love me, Carus."

  Arms enlacing one another, we walked the floor in silence, slowlypassing from her chamber into mine, and back again, heads erect,challenging that Destiny whose shadowy visage we could now gaze onunafraid.

  The dusk of day was dissolving to a silvery night, through which thewhite-throat's song floated in distant, long-drawn sweetness. Thelittle stream's whisper grew louder, too; and I heard the treesstirring in slumber, and the breeze in the river-reeds.

  There, at the open window, standing, she lifted her sweet face, lookinginto mine.

  "What will you do with me? I am yours."

  "Wait for you."

  "You need not wait, if it be your will."

  "It is not my will that we ever part. Nor shall we, wedded or not. Yetwe must wait our wedded happiness."

  "You need not, Carus."

  "I know it and I wait."

  "So then--so then you hold me innocent--you raise me back to the highplace I fell from, blinded by love----"

  "You never fell from your high place, Elsin."

  "But my unpardonable sin----"

  "What sin? The evil lies with him."

  "Yet, wedded, I sought you--I loved you--I love you now--I offer myamends to you--myself to do with as it pleases you."

  "Sweetheart, you could not stir from the high place where you reignenthroned though I and Satan leagued to pull you down. I, not you, owethe amends; I, not you, await your pleasure. Yours to command, mine toobey. Now, tell me, love, where my honor lies?"

  "Linked with mine, Carus."

  "And yours?"

  "In the high places, where I sit unsullied, waiting for you."

  For a long while we stood there together at the window. Candle-lightfaded from the dim casements of the shops; the patrol passed, musketsglittering in the starlight, and the tavern lamp went out.

  And when the last tap-room loiterer had slunk away to camp or cabin,and when the echo of the patrol's tread had died out in the fragrantdarkness, came one to the door below, hammering the knocker; and I sawhis spurs and scabbard shining in the luster of the stars, and in myheart a still voice repeated, "This is Destiny came a-knocking, armedwith Fate. This is the place and the hour!"

  And it was so, for presently the landlord came to the door, calling mesoftly. "I come," I answered, and turned to Elsin. "Shall I to-morrowfind you the same sweet maid I have loved from the first allblindly?--the same dear tyrant, plaguing me, coaxing me, blaming,praising, unreasoning, inconstant--the same brave, impulsive, loyalfriend that one day, God willing, shall become my wife?"

  "Yes, Carus."

  We kissed one another; hands tightened, lingered, and fell apart. Andso I went away down the dim stairs, strangely aware that Destiny waswaiting there for me. And it was, shaped like Colonel Hamilton, whorose to meet me, offering the hand of Fate; and I took it and held it,looking him straight between the eyes.

  "I know why you have come," I said, smiling. "I am to journey north andmove heaven and earth to thwart this hell's menace flung at us byWalter Butler. Ah, sir, I was certain of it--I knew it, ColonelHamilton. You make me very, very happy. Pray you, inform his Excellencyof my deep gratitude. He has chosen fire to fight fire, I think. Everythought, every nerve in me is directed to the ruin of this man. Waking,sleeping, in sickness, in health, in adversity, in prosperity, soul andbody and mind are bent on his undoing. I shall speak to the Oneidaswith clan authority; I shall speak to the Iroquois at Thendara; I shalllisten to the long roll of the dead; I shall read the record of agesfrom the sacred belts. The eyes of the forest shall see for me; theears of the wilderness listen for me; every tree shall whisper for me,every leaf spy for me; and the voices of a thousand streams shall guideme, and the eight winds shall counsel me, and the stars stretch outtheir beams for me, pointing the way, so that this man shall die andhis wickedness be ended forever."

  I held out my hand and took the written order in silence, reading it ata glance.

  "It shall be done, Colonel Hamilton. When am I to leave?"

  "Now. The schooner starts when you set foot aboard, Mr. Renault."

  And, after a moment: "Madam goes with you?"

  "To West Point."

  "I trust that she finds some few comforts aboard the _Wind-Flower_. Icould not fill all the list, Mr. Renault; but a needle will do much, andthe French fabrics are pretty----"

  He looked at me, smiling: "For you, sir, there are shirts and stockingsand a forest dress of deerskin."

  "A rifle, too?"

  "The best to be had, and approved by Jack Mount. Murphy himself hassighted it. Have I done well?"

  "Yes," said I grimly, and, opening the door of the kitchen, bade thelandlord have our horses saddled and brought around, and asked him tosend a servant to warn Elsin that we must leave within the quarter.

  Presently I heard our horses at the block, stamping the sod, and amoment later Elsin came, eager, radiant, sweetly receiving ColonelHamilton when I named him. He saluted her hand profoundly; then, as itstill rested lightly on his fingers, he turned to me, almost bluntly:"Never, Mr. Renault, can we officers forgive you for denying us thisprivilege. I have heard, sir, that Mrs. Renault was beautiful andamiable; I never dreamed that such loveliness could be within ourlines. One day you shall make amends for this selfishness to every ladyand every officer on the Hudson."

  At the word which named her as my wife her face crimsoned, but in hereyes the heavenly sweetness dawned like a star, dazzling me.

  "Colonel Hamilton," she said, "in quieter days--when this stormpasses--we hope to welcome you and those who care to wait upon a wifewhose life is but a quiet study for her husband's happiness. Those whomhe cares for I care for. We shall be glad to receive those he counts asfriends."

  "May I be one, Renault?" he said impulsively, offering both hands.

  "Yes," I said, returning his clasp.

  We stood silent a moment, Elsin's gloved fingers resting on my sleeve;then we moved to the door, and I lifted Elsin to the saddle andmounted, Hamilton walking
at my stirrup, and directing me in a lowvoice how I must follow the road to the river, how find the wharf, whatword to give to the man I should find there waiting. And he cautionedme to breathe no word of my errand; but when I asked him where myreports to his Excellency were to be sent, he drew a sealed paper fromhis coat and handed it to me, saying: "Open that on the first day ofSeptember, and on your honor, not one hour before. Then you shall hearof things undreamed of, and understand all that I may not tell you now.Be cautious, be wise and deadly. We know you; our four years' trust inyou has proved your devotion. But his Excellency warns you againstrashness, for it was rashness that made you useless in New York. And Inow say to you most solemnly that I regard you as too unselfish, toogood a soldier, too honorable a gentleman to let aught of a personalnature come between you and duty. And your duty is to hold theIroquois, warn the Oneidas, and so conduct that Butler and his demonsmake no movement till you and Colonel Willett hold the checkmate inyour proper hands. Am I clear, Mr. Renault?"

  "Perfectly," I said.

  He stepped aside, raising his cocked-hat; we passed him at a canterwith precise salute, then spurred forward into the star-spangled night.