CHAPTER XVI.
An hour later, both Harrod Summers and myself were curiously inspectinga pair of inebriated bipeds at the police station. Both were stolidlydrunk, and were plunged in the heavy sleep that resulted from theirexcessive potations. One, the younger, was a tolerably well-dressedyouth not absolutely unlike Peyton; but all the same a total stranger.Neither of us had ever seen him before. But his companion--was HankSmith.
The two had been guilty of some drunken turbulence in a down-townsaloon, said one of the police-officers, and had attracted the attentionof the "force." In the course of a wordy altercation between them adetective had dropped in, and, after a few moments' apparentlyindifferent lounging and listening, had suddenly gone in search of acomrade, meantime bidding the officer keep his eye on them. They werestill drinking and squabbling when the detective returned. Smith wasdemanding payment of money which the other protested he had neverreceived, and it was not long before the lie was given and a scuffleensued. This was sufficient to enable the officers to arrest them asdrunk and disorderly, and then to notify us. That Peyton was in some wayconnected with the sudden appearance of Hank Smith in the Crescent Cityneither of us could doubt for a minute, as Peyton's name, with manyblasphemous qualifications, had been frequently mentioned in theiraltercation. It would be some hours before they could be in condition toaccount for themselves and their motives; meantime the colonel and Iwere devoured with impatience and curiosity. The police supposed thatthey had the big ruffian of our night adventure in the person of Smith,but he was not the man. His presence only added to the mystery. Forseveral weeks after his trial at Jackson he had disappeared from ourview and we had heard nothing of his movements. Now, what could havebrought him here, and what connection had his wanderings with Peyton's?I vainly puzzled over this problem while studying the flushed and soddenfeatures of this arch-reprobate. Harrod went down home again to tellVinton of the important capture. I had to go to the office at noon, butlate in the day we were again at the station, and now, still bewilderedand surly, but somewhat freshened by liberal applications of cold waterfrom the pump, the ex-leader of the Tishomingo Ku-Klux was sitting upand chewing the cud of melancholy retrospect in place of the accustomedsolace of "navy plug." Very ugly and ill at ease looked Hank as thecolonel quietly accosted him. He knew us both at once and seemed not atall surprised at our presence.
Our only object in intruding upon his valuable time and his placidmeditations being to find out what had become of Peyton, the questionarose beforehand, who should question him? Supposing that he would bedisposed to conceal everything he might know, we had been planning whatcourse to pursue; but his first remark put an end to our uncertainty.
"I'm as well as a man can be who's just over a drunk and can't get acocktail," he growled. "Have you come to pay me that money for Cap.Peyton?" And his bloodshot eyes gleamed fiercely up at Harrod's calmfeatures.
"How much do you claim, Smith?" was the evasive query.
"He knows d--d well. It's a round five hundred dollars, and I'll follerhim to Mexico but that I'll get it out of him, if you don't pay it."
"Why did you not make him pay you yesterday?"
"Yesterday?" said Hank, starting to his feet. "He ain't got back, hashe? If he's lied to me again, I'll----Say, _is_ he back?" he asked,eagerly.
"I have not seen him yet," answered Harrod, "and I do not wish to seehim. I want you to warn him never to show his face among us again. Now,supposing you are released to-night, how soon can you find him?"
"_Find_ him? The young whelp! He's tricked me. He's gone to Mexico, d--nhim! I came here two days ago to meet him as agreed. He was to pay methe money then, and said you was here to get it for him; and then, whenI got here, he left word that he was in a scrape, and had to light outfor Texas right away, and never said another word about the money,except that I might apply to him there for it ('him there' being thebedraggled-looking youth sitting up now on his wooden bench and staringstupidly about him), and--and this is what came of it, by God! Themoney's mine, colonel, and I earned it fairly that last scrape he wasin. He swore he'd pay me if we'd help him out. They'd have jailed himsure at Holly Springs if we hadn't stood by him. It took some of thehardest swearing you ever listened to to turn that marshal off histrack." And Hank's face was woe-begone as this touching reminiscenceoccurred to him.
"And that was the service your people rendered him, was it? You couldhave rendered his people a much better one by telling the truth and'jailing him,' as you say. What had he been doing to set the marshal onhis track?"
Hank looked suspiciously at me a moment. He was apparently ready tomake a clean breast of matters to Harrod, but I was one of a class heregarded with distrust. Seeing this, Harrod glanced significantly at me,and I withdrew, leaving them to work out their own conclusions.
Strolling up to headquarters and thence over to Amory's, I found himsleeping quietly and Parker reading the newspapers at his bedside. Anenlivening conversation was not to be looked for in that quartertherefore, and on my speaking to Parker about a room for Mrs. Amory, whowas to arrive on the following day, he replied that he had alreadysecured one close at hand. This again left me with nothing especial todo, and in my loneliness and lack of occupation I went down to RoyalStreet, and came luckily upon a cheerful gathering at Newhall's, as wehad learned to speak of the house wherein our Sandbrook party werequartered.
It was a still, balmy evening, and Vinton's sofa had been trundled intothe sitting-room. He lay there looking rather gaunt and white, butunutterably happy, for in a low chair by his side Miss Summers wasseated, and she had evidently been reading aloud before my entrance, fora little blue-and-gold volume of Tennyson lay in her lap. Harrod andKitty were seated at the centre-table near them, and rose to greet me asI entered, but the moment she had given me her little hand, with arather embarrassed greeting, and I went forward to Vinton's sofa, MissKitty dropped back to the dim light of a distant corner. I had barelytime to congratulate the major on his convalescence when he inquiredeagerly for Amory.
"I have just come from him," I answered. "He was sleeping quietly, andMr. Parker was there with him. He will be all right now in a day or two.Mrs. Amory will be here to-morrow, as you doubtless know, and Parker hastaken a room for her at Madame R----'s, close to headquarters."
For some moments we four sat there talking quietly about her coming andits probable benefit to Amory's health, which certainly had beensuffering of late. Kitty still sat in her corner, apparently occupiedwith a magazine, though it was too dark to read at that distance fromthe lamp. Vinton, of course, was eager to hear all the particulars ofthe recent excitements, however, and after a few moments he asked to befully informed.
"Yes, Brandon, tell him the whole thing. Do not spare Peyton. Do notimagine that it will shock Pauline, for I have told her all about it.Indeed, I may as well take the lead," said Harrod, "and give you brieflywhat Smith confessed to me to-day. It was Peyton who planned and ledthat ambuscade on Amory's command. He ordered his party to try and pickoff Amory himself, and but for the darkness they probably would havekilled him. The fellow is a scoundrel throughout, and I'm almost sorryhe has escaped now. Smith says he has undoubtedly gone to Mexico, andmost of the money with him. Now, Brandon, tell us your story."
There was a rustle of skirts at the other end of the room. Paulineglanced wistfully over to Kitty's corner, and I could not help lookingthither myself. Without a word the little lady had risen and left theroom.
Pauline rose hurriedly. "I must go to Kitty," she said. "She has beenvery much distressed about all this trouble of late, and she will worryherself to death." With that she, too, was gone; and Mr. Brandon, bereftof his feminine audience, told his story with far less interest andenjoyment than he would otherwise have felt. Vinton was deeplyinterested, however, and greatly concerned over Amory's adventure. Itwas some time before Miss Summers' return, and then she brought Kitty'sexcuses. The latter had been persuaded finally to go to bed, for she wasshocked inexpressibly at hearing that Peyton had reall
y had thehardihood to carry out the threat of that memorable day at Sandbrook."And more than that, she is convinced that Peyton has been striving toharm Mr. Amory here in New Orleans, and I _had_ to promise that sheshould know the whole truth. Is it so, Mr. Brandon?"
And once more Mr. Brandon had the gratification of relating thatepisode, and before another day poor Kitty was in possession of all thefacts.
And yet when I met her the following afternoon her eyes were bright; hercolor heightened; her manner animated and almost gay. "So glad uncle wascoming," was her explanation, and yet--she did not care to go to thestation with Harrod, Pauline, and myself to meet uncle. This struck meas strange, and I ventured to urge her to accompany us.
"Oh, no! the carriage only holds four," was her reply.
"But you will make the fourth, and you know I'm not coming back. I'mgoing to drive Mrs. Amory up to see her boy at once. He's sitting up instate ready to welcome her, and we had some difficulty in persuading himthat he must not attempt to leave the house. You see there is abundantroom, little lady, so why not come?"
"Thanks, I think not; I'm not ready to drive," was her confused answer;and yet I saw that she had been out. Her hat and gloves lay there uponthe table. Her costume was perfect--and so was her determination.
The carriage came and we drove off, leaving her smiling and kissing herhand gayly from the balcony above our heads. Pauline glanced backlovingly at her as we turned the corner.
"Isn't she exquisite?" she said to Harrod, whose eyes, too, were fixedupon the fairy-like little figure until 'twas hidden from our sight.
"Yes, and utterly incomprehensible. Last night she was in the depths ofmisery when she heard about Peyton's connection with that rascallybusiness last December. Long after the rest of us had gone to bed,Pauline went in and told her the whole story of your night adventure andPeyton's further rascality, and, by Jove! it acted like acounter-irritant. She has been in a whirl of spirits all morning; but,Paulie, she should not rush out on the streets by herself. She was outnearly half an hour awhile ago."
"Not out of sight, Harrod. I had her in view from the balcony."
"What on earth could she find to do down on Royal Street for nearly halfan hour without going out of sight?"
Pauline smiled demurely. "Merely making some purchases at the corner, Ifancy."
"At the corner? Why, it's a cigar store."
"I did not say _in_ the corner, _M. le colonel_. Kitty is fond oforanges."
"Then it took half an hour to buy half a dozen oranges of that old Dagoat the fruit-stand, did it? Still, that does not account for her blithespirits. One would think that having sent one adorer away heart-broken;and another having vanished in disgrace (though that _was_ but a boy andgirl affair), and a third laid up as the result of the second'srascality; a girl might be expected to suffer some pangs of remorse. Ideclare I believe some women have no more conscience than kittens, andour Kitty is one of them," said Harrod, half wrathfully.
A moment's silence, then,--
"Well, _why_ should she not want to come and meet the judge?" I asked,with blundering persistency.
"And _why_ should she be bright as a button this afternoon?" demandedHarrod.
Pauline smiled with conscious superiority. "I can understand it readily,and am really surprised that you two profound thinkers should be soutterly in the dark. I'm not going to betray her, however; you ought tobe able to see through it yourselves." And that silenced me completely.I record it with absolute humility that not until days afterwards was itmade clear to me that when Pauline told Kitty the story of Amory'snight-ride, the latter was able to account for the first time for hisextraordinary conduct at Moreau's and the theatre; more than that, thechild then knew what it was that had brought him in the dead of night totake one look at her window before going out to meet Peyton. As for herrefusal to go to the depot, she simply felt unable to meet in that wayFrank Amory's mother.
The train came in on time. Harrod sprang aboard, and in another momentemerged from the Pullman escorting his gray-haired father, and with themappeared the pale, placid face I had so admired in the picture atAmory's tent. Dressed in black, though not in deep mourning, the gentlelady stepped from the car, and Miss Summers, who had extended her righthand, gave one swift glance in the peaceful eyes, then suddenly,impulsively, threw forward both; and Harrod and I had abundant time towelcome the judge before either lady had a word for us. When I turnedagain to look at them Mrs. Amory and Pauline were still standing hand inhand, and the latter's lovely face, flushed with happiness, and witheyes that glistened through the starting tears, was hardly morebeautiful than the sweet, sorrow-worn features of her who had found"that peace which the world cannot give," and in the sanctity of herbereaved life had learned the lesson of resignation,--the blessed hopeof a blessed future. We would not interrupt them as they stood gazinginto each other's eyes--the mother and her boy's devoted friend. Itseemed best that from Pauline she should hear of Frank's improvement; ofhis captain's convalescence; and that the bonds of sympathy that drewthem in such close alliance should there be riveted without mycustomary interference; but neither lady was forgetful of us, andturning to me, Mrs. Amory, in that soft, sweet voice men love tohear,--all the more winning for its Southern accent,--asked,--
"And is not this Mr. Brandon, my boy's friend?" And then Mr. Brandon hadthe happiness of clasping her hand, and presently of leading her to hercarriage. She was impatient to get to her son, and it was soon arrangedthat Pauline should drive up to see her later in the evening, and thenwe separated. Ten minutes more and the orderly opened the door, and,obedient to my beckoning finger, stepped out as the lady was ushered in.We only heard the glad ring in Frank's brave young voice; one cry of"Mother!" and then we closed the door and left them together.
An hour afterwards, Mr. Parker and I walked over from headquarters topay our respects to Mrs. Amory and escort her to her lodgings, wherehospitable Madame R---- was waiting to welcome her and refresh her withtea. We found the doctor there in blithe chat with his patient and thatnow happy mother. Very sweet and gentle was her greeting for us. Sheseemed to know just what to say to each and every one, and charmedParker at once, as she had me, by her lovely manner and voice. Almostthe first question was, "Can we not move Frank over with me?"
But Mars protested. Here he was right near his troop; could hear thetrumpet-calls and the voices of the men at times; and so felt _with_them. The doctor would not let him go to duty for forty-eight hours atthe least,--perhaps not then,--and he wanted to remain where he was.
Parker laughingly offered to come and occupy the room if he reallythought an officer must be with the troop, and then the doctor said hissay. A carriage could be there in ten minutes; he was all dressed; hemight just as well move over to Madame's, a square away; be incomfortable quarters, and have his mother in the adjoining room. Theproject was decided on in spite of him. Parker scurried over to CampStreet, and came back with information that just such rooms as wereneeded were there in readiness, and when the carriage came, our boy washalf lifted, half led, down the stairs, and correspondingly transferredto new and cosey quarters nearly opposite headquarters. Some of the menbrought over the trunk and his few belongings, but when it came time tostart, Mars himself had stretched forth his hand and gathered in abeautiful bunch of sweet wild violets whose fragrance had filled thelittle room. I had noticed them on the table by his side the moment weentered, and now conceived it time to inquire whence they came.
"I'm not quite sure," said Amory, with something vastly like a blush."They were left here an hour or so before mother came, and I think MissSummers must have sent them."
And yet that evening, when Pauline and Colonel Summers came to see Mrs.Amory for a few moments, I was still there. The violets were by Amory'sbedside up-stairs; Mrs. Amory made no allusion to them, but I did,unblushingly; and neither affirming nor denying that she had sent them,Miss Summers silenced me by saying that she was glad they gave Mr. Amorypleasure, and instantly changed the subject and addressed
her talk toher lady friend. Driving home, however, she was at my mercy and I againpressed the matter. A keen suspicion was actually beginning to glimmerin my brain.
"_You_ sent those violets of course, Miss Summers?"
"If so, why ask me, Mr. Brandon?"
"Well! _Didn't_ you, then?"
"No, sir; I never even knew of their being sent." And Miss Summers wasplainly and mischievously enjoying my perplexity.
Leaving me at my rooms, the brother and sister continued on theirhomeward way and their enthusiastic chat about Mrs. Amory, which myunfeeling curiosity had broken in upon. It was quite late and my lettershad been brought up from the office. First on the package was the onefor which I was eagerly waiting,--the answer to my diplomatic missive toBella Grayson. Ignoring all others I plunged instanter into that, andwas rewarded--as I deserved.
"DEAR UNCLE GEORGE," she wrote.--"It was such a treat and so rare an honor to receive a letter from your august hand, that for some time I could not believe it was intended for me at all. Indeed, to be _very_ frank, the closing page rather confirmed me in that impression. You men always taunt us by saying that the gist of a woman's letter lies in the postscript (one cynical acquaintance of mine went so far as to say that it lies all the way through), and yet not until that last page was reached did I discover the object of yours. Now, Uncle Georgy, isn't that circumlocution itself? Confess.
"But you really _do_ seem 'interested in young Amory,' as you call him; and his 'evident admiration for a fair young friend of yours--an heiress--commands your entire sympathy.' What a cold-blooded, mercenary avowal, _M. mon oncle_! or, do you--is it possible that you mean--you too are interested in her? No! That is hardly tenable as a supposition. There is something so disingenuous about the rest of the letter that your interest is evidently on his account. Thank you ever so much for 'having half a mind to take me into your confidence.' And now, how can I dispel your perplexity? With the best intentions in the world, how powerless I am!
"You believe he has some lady correspondent up North. Well, that strikes me as quite a reasonable supposition. Indeed, I have heard that most of them have; but what--what did I _ever_ say to lead to such a remark as this: 'Knowing what susceptible fellows cadets are (from your own statements)'? What could I ever have said to give you such an impression? Why, Uncle George, _how_ should I know whether they are susceptible or not? and how could you be so cruel as to allude to the dismal fact that I had been up there every summer for six or eight years, and am still Bella Grayson? Does _that_ look as though I thought them susceptible?
"But seriously; you say that Mr. Amory has become involved in 'some entanglement there from which he would now gladly escape,' and you fancy that Mr. Amory has done me the honor to make me his confidante; but herein you are mistaken. Certainly I have never heard a word from him of an 'entanglement,' nor do I remember his being devoted to any young girl in particular. Indeed, he struck me as being rather general in his attentions, what little I saw of him. It would be a great pleasure, no doubt, 'to help him out of his boyish folly and into something worth having,' to use your own words, but indeed, Uncle George, you overrate my influence entirely.
"Nevertheless, I always liked Mr. Amory very much, and am greatly interested in his romance. Perhaps if you were to tell me what he _said_ to make you think he wanted to escape from his Northern entanglement, I might be able to recall some one of his flames to whom the remarks would be applicable. Tell me what you _know_ and then my 'thinking-cap' may be put on to some advantage. Just now I'm much in the dark, and, except very casually indeed, have not heard from Mr. Amory for quite a while (How definite!--G. S. B.), and as he never mentioned this new charmer to his 'confidante,' I am most curious to hear of her. Do tell me who she is, what she is like. Is she pretty? of course that is the first question; is she--anything, everything, in fact? Do be a good Uncle Georgy and write. We were all so glad to hear from you, but as I answered, I shall expect an answer equally prompt. So write speedily to
"Your loving niece,
"BELLA."
When Mr. Brandon finally sought his bachelor pillow that night, it isregretfully recorded that he, like Dogberry, remembered that he was writan ass.