The Man on the Box

  XIX

  "OH, MISTER BUTLER!"

  Warburton had never lacked that rare and peculiar gift of immediatelyadapting himself to circumstances. To lie now would be folly, worsethan useless. He had addressed this man at his side by his militarytitle. He stood committed. He saw that he must throw himself wholly onthe colonel's mercy and his sense of the humorous. He pointed towardthe stables and drew the colonel after him; but the colonel held back.

  "That rose first; I insist upon having that rose till you have given mea satisfactory account of yourself."

  Warburton reluctantly surrendered his treasure. Force of habit is apeculiar one. The colonel had no real authority to demand the rose; butWarburton would no more have thought of disobeying than of running away.

  "You will give it back to me?"

  "That remains to be seen. Go on; I am ready to follow you. And I do notwant any dragging story, either." The colonel spoke impatiently.

  Warburton led him into his room and turned on the light. The colonelseated himself on the edge of the cot and lighted a fresh cigar.

  "Well, sir, out with it. I am waiting."

  Warburton took several turns about the room. "I don't know how thedeuce to begin, Colonel. It began with a joke that turned out wrong."

  "Indeed?"--sarcastically. "Let me hear about this joke."

  M'sieu Zhames dallied no longer, but plunged boldly into his narrative.Sometimes the colonel stared at him as if he beheld a species oflunatic absolutely new to him, sometimes he laughed silently, sometimeshe frowned.

  "That's all," said Zhames; and he stood watching the colonel with dreadin his eyes.

  "Well, of all the damn fools!"

  "Sir?"

  "Of all the jackasses!"

  Warburton bit his lip angrily.

  The colonel swung the rose to and fro. "Yes, sir, a damn fool!"

  "I dare say that I am, sir. But I have gone too far to back out now.Will you give me back that rose, Colonel?"

  "What do you mean by her?"--coldly.

  "I love her with all my heart,"--hotly. "I want her for my comrade, mywife, my companion, my partner in all I have or do. I love her, and Idon't care a hang who knows it."

  "Not so loud, my friend; not so loud."

  "Oh, I do not care who hears,"--discouragedly.

  "This beats the very devil! You've got me all balled up. Is BettyAnnesley a girl of the kind we read about in the papers as eloping withher groom? What earthly chance had you in this guise, I should like toknow?"

  "I only wanted to be near her; I did not look ahead."

  "Well, I should say not! How long were you hidden behind that trellis?"

  "A year, so it seemed to me."

  "Any lunatics among your ancestors?"

  Warburton shook his head, smiling wanly.

  "I can't make it out," declared the colonel. "A graduate of West Point,the fop of Troop A, the hero of a hundred ball-rooms, disguised as ahostler and serving soup!"

  "Always keep the motive in mind, Colonel; you were young yourself once."

  The colonel thought of the girl's mother. Yes, he had been young once,but not quite so young as this cub of his.

  "What chance do you suppose you have against the handsome Russian?"

  "She has rejected him,"--thoughtlessly.

  "Ha!"--frowning; "so you were eavesdropping?"

  "Wait a moment, Colonel. You know that I am very fond of music. I waslistening to the music. It had ceased, and I was waiting for it tobegin again, when I heard voices."

  "Why did you not leave then?"

  "And be observed? I dared not."

  The colonel chewed the end of his cigar in silence.

  "And now may I have that rose, sir?"--quietly.

  The colonel observed him warily. He knew that quiet tone. It said thatif he refused to give up the rose he would have to fight for it, andprobably get licked into the bargain.

  "I've a notion you might attempt to take it by force in case I refused."

  "I surrendered it peacefully enough, sir."

  "So you did. Here." The colonel tossed the flower across the room andWarburton caught it.

  "I should like to know, sir, if you are going to expose me. It's nomore than I deserve."

  The colonel studied the lithographs on the walls. "Yourselection?"--with a wave of the hand.

  "No, sir. I should like to know what you are going to do. It wouldrelieve my mind. As a matter of fact, I confess that I am growing wearyof the mask." Warburton waited.

  "You make a very respectable butler, though,"--musingly.

  "Shall you expose me, sir?"--persistently.

  "No, lad. I should not want it to get about that a former officer ofmine could possibly make such an ass of himself. You have slept allnight in jail, you have groomed horses, you have worn a livery which nogentleman with any self-respect would wear, and all to no purposewhatever. Why, in the name of the infernal regions, didn't you meet herin a formal way? There would have been plenty of opportunities."

  Warburton shrugged; so did the colonel, who stood up and shook thewrinkles from his trousers.

  "Shall you be long in Washington, sir?" asked Warburton, politely.

  "In a hurry to get rid of me, eh?"--with a grim smile. "Well, perhapsin a few days."

  "Good night."

  The colonel stopped at the threshold, and his face melted suddenly intoa warm, humorous smile. He stretched out a hand which Warburton graspedmost gratefully. His colonel had been playing with him.

  "Come back to the Army, lad; the East is no place for a man of yourkidney. Scrape up a commission, and I'll see to it that you get backinto the regiment. Life is real out in the great West. People smile toomuch here; they don't laugh often enough. Smiles have a hundredmeanings, laughter but one. Smiles are the hiding places for lies, andsneers, and mockeries, and scandals. Come back to the West; we all wantyou, the service and I. When I saw you this afternoon I knew youinstantly, only I was worried as to what devilment you were up to. Winthis girl, if you can; she's worth any kind of struggle, God bless her!Win her and bring her out West, too."

  Warburton wrung the hand in his till the old fellow signified that hisfingers were beginning to ache.

  "Do you suppose she suspects anything?" ventured Warburton.

  "No. She may be a trifle puzzled, though. I saw her watching your handsat the table. She has eyes and can readily see that such hands as yourswere never made to carry soup-plates. For the life of me, I had a timeof it, swallowing my laughter. I longed for a vacant lot to yell in. Itwould have been a positive relief. The fop of Troop A peddling soup!Oh, I shall have to tell the boys. You used more pipe-clay than anyother man in the regiment. Don't scowl. Never mind; you've had yourjoke; I must have mine. Don't let that Russian fellow get the insidetrack. Keep her on American soil. I like him and I don't like him; andfor all your tomfoolery and mischief, there is good stuff in you--stuffthat any woman might be proud of. If you hadn't adopted this disguise,I could have helped you out a bit by cracking up some of your exploits.Well, they will be inquiring for me. Good night and good luck. If youshould need me, a note will find me at the Army and Navy Club." And thegenial old warrior, shaking with silent laughter, went back to thehouse.

  Warburton remained standing. He was lost in a dream. All at once hepressed the rose to his lips and kissed it shamelessly, kissed ituncountable times. Two or three leaves, not withstanding this violenttreatment, fluttered to the floor. He picked them up: any one of thosevelvet leaves might have been the recipient of _her_ kisses, the rosaryof love. He was in love, such a love that comes but once to any man,not passing, uncertain, but lasting. He knew that it was all useless.He had digged with his own hands the abyss between himself and thisgirl. But there was a secret gladness: to love was something. (For mypart, I believe that the glory lies, not in being loved, but in loving.)

  I do not know how long he stood there, but it must have been at leastten minutes. Then the door opened, and Monsieur Pierre lurched orrolled (I can't quit
e explain or describe the method of his entrance)into the room, his face red with anger, and a million thousand thunderson the tip of his Gallic tongue.

  "So! You haf leaf _me_ to clear zee table, eh? Not by a damn! _I_,clear zee table? _I?_ I t'ink not. I _cook_, nozzing else. To zeedining-room, or I haf you discharge'!"

  "All right, Peter, old boy!" cried Warburton, the gloom lifting fromhis face. This Pierre was a very funny fellow.

  "Pe_taire!_ You haf zee insolence to call me Pe_taire?_ Why, I haf youkeeked out in zee morning, lackey!"

  "Cook!"--mockingly.

  Pierre was literally dumfounded. Such disrespect he had never beforewitnessed. It was frightful. He opened his mouth to issue a volley ofFrench oaths, when Zhames's hand stopped him.

  "Look here, Peter, you broil your partridges and flavor your soups, butkeep out of the stables, or, in your own words, I _keel_ you or _keek_you out. You tell the scullery maid to clear off the table. I'm offduty for the rest of the night. Now, then, _allons! Marche!"_

  And M'sieu Zhames gently but firmly and steadily pushed the scandalizedPierre out of the room and closed the door in his face. I shan't repeatwhat Pierre said, much less what he thought.

  Let me read a thought from the mind of each of my principals, the finalthought before retiring that night.

  _Karloff_ (on leaving Mrs. Chadwick): Dishonor against dishonor; so itmust be. I can not live without that girl.

  _Mrs. Chadwick:_ (when Karloff had gone); He has lost, but I have notwon.

  _Annesley:_ So one step leads to another, and the labyrinth of dishonorhas no end.

  _The Colonel:_ What the deuce will love put next into the young mind?

  _Pierre_ (to Celeste): I haf heem discharge'!

  _Celeste_ (to Pierre): He ees handsome!

  _Warburton_ (sighing in the _doloroso_): How I love her!

  _The Girl_ (standing before her mirror and smiling happily): Oh, MisterButler! Why?