Page 27 of The Drummer Boy


  XXVI.

  OLD SINJIN.

  At the foot of a pine tree, on a pillow of boughs, lies the olddrum-major. The blaze of the bivouac fire covers him with its glow aswith a mantle. But his face looks haggard and care-worn, and his grizzledmustache has a cynical curl even in sleep.

  At a sound he starts, opening wide those watchful gray eyes an instant,then closing them quickly. It is a footstep approaching.

  Stealthily it comes, and passes by his side. Then silence--broken only bythe crackle and roar of the flames. At length one eye of the sleeperopens a little, and peeps; and as it peeps, it sees, sitting on the pineroots, in the broad fire-light, with his cap before his eyes shadingthem, and his eyes fixed wistfully on him, Frank, the drummer boy.

  The eye that opened a little and peeped, closes again. The old fellowbegins to snore.

  "Poor old man!" says the boy to himself; "how tired he looks. And tothink I have done so much to hurt his feelings! I wish I could tell himhow sorry I am; but I must not wake him."

  Again the ambushed eye opens, and the little corner of the sleeper's soulthat happens to be _not_ asleep, reconnoitres. Frank is sitting therestill, faithfully watching. A stream of electric fire tingles in thatmisanthropic breast, at the sight. But still the old man snores.

  "I may as well lie down and go to sleep too," says Frank. And, verysoftly, so as not to awaken Mr. Sinjin, he lays himself down by his side,puts his cheek on the pillow of boughs, and keeps perfectly still.

  The heart of the veteran burns within him, but he makes no sign. Andnow--hark! Patter, patter, patter. It is beginning to rain.

  This, then, is what the dark canopy meant, hanging so luridly over thefire-lit forest. Patter, patter; faster, faster; dripping through thetrees, hissing in the fire, capering like fairies on the ground, comesthe midnight rain.

  Sinjin thinks it about time to wake. But Frank is stirring; so heconcludes to sleep a little longer, and see what he will do.

  Frank takes some pine boughs, and lays them carefully over the old man,to shelter him from the rain. Hotter and hotter glows the old heartbeneath; melt it must soon.

  "There!" says Frank in a whisper; "don't tell him I did it!"

  He is going. Old Sinjin can sleep--or pretend to sleep--no more.

  "Hello! Who's there?"--awaking with amazing suddenness.--"That you,Frank? What are you here for at this time of night?"

  "O, I'm a privileged character. They let me go around the camp about as Ilike, you know."

  "How long has it been raining? And how came all this rubbish heaped overme?"

  The pattering becomes a rushing in the tree-tops, a wild sibilation as ofserpents in the fire, and a steady rattling and whizzing in the swamps.

  "Well, well! this won't do, boy! Come with me!"

  They run to the shelter of a huge leaning trunk and crouch beneath it.

  "You're not so used to these things as I am," says the old man, shieldingthe boy with his arms.

  "Let me bring some boughs to throw over you!" cries Frank.

  "No--sit still! You have heaped boughs enough on me for one night!"

  "Were you--awake?"

  "One eye was a little awake."

  "And you saw!"

  "I saw all you did, my boy!"

  Frank knows not whether to be happy or ashamed. Neither speaks. The stormis roaring in the trees. The water drips and the spray sifts upon them,At length Frank says,--

  "I wanted to tell you I have the watch again, and I know who gave it tome, and I think he is one of the best old men in the world. And I wantedto say that I am very sorry for every thing I have said and done that waswrong."

  The bosom of the lonely old man heaves as he answers, "Don't, my boy!don't say you are sorry--I can't stand that!" And he hugs the boy close.

  "But why didn't you want me to know you gave the watch?"

  "Because I am such a foolish old fellow, and have forgotten how to treata friend. For twenty years and more I have not known what it was to havea living soul care for me."

  "O, it must be so hard for you to be alone so! Have you no sisters?"

  "Sisters! I would tell you of one so proud, and rich, and in fashion,that her great house has no room in it for a rusty old brother like me!"

  Frank thought of his own sisters--of Hattie, who was gone, and of Helen,who, though she should wed a prince, would never, he was sure, shut herdoors against him; and he was filled with pity for the poor old man.

  "But you must have had friends?"

  "I had one, who was a fast friend enough when he was poor and I had alittle property. But I became responsible for his debts, which he left meto pay; then I was poor, whilst he grew rich and hated me!"

  "Hated you?"

  "Of course! We may forgive those who wrong us, but not those we havewronged. He never forgave me for having been robbed by him!" And the oldman's voice grew hard and ironical at the recollection.

  "Why didn't you ever get married?" asked Frank. "You have one of thebest, biggest hearts in the world, and you ought to have loved somebodywith it. Didn't you ever?"

  The spirit of the old man shrank sensitively within him for a moment.Then he said to himself, "He will know of it some day, and I may as welltell him." For the heart that had been frozen for years this youth hadhad power to thaw.

  "I never loved--any woman--well enough to marry her. But there was once alittle girl that I had known from her cradle--for I was many years olderthan she. I used to pet her, and tell her stories, and sing and play toher, until I became more bound up in her than was very wise for one whowas not her father or her brother. Well, she got to be of your age, andstill ran to kiss me when I came, and never guessed what was growing upin my heart and taking possession of me, for it was stronger than I, andstronger than all the world. I saw her fast becoming a woman, and forgotthat I was at the same time fast becoming an old man. And one day I askedher to marry me. I did not mean then, but in a few years. But she did notstop to hear my explanations. She sprang from me with a scream. And thatended it. She could never be to me again the innocent pet she had been,and as for being what I wished--I saw at once how absurd the proposalwas! I saw that from that time she could regard me only with astonishmentand laughter. I was always extremely sensitive, and this affair, with theother I have told you of, proved too much for me. I fled from society. Ienlisted as a drummer, and I suppose I shall never be any thing but adrummer now. And this, my boy, is the reason I was never married."

  Drearily sounded the old man's voice as he closed.

  "It is all so sad!" said Frank. "But ought a man to do so, because he hasbeen once or twice deceived? I have heard my mother say that as we are toothers, so they will be to us. If we are generous, that excites them tobe generous; and love calls out love."

  "Your mother says that?" replied Mr. Sinjin in a low voice. "Ah, and shesays true! If one is proud and reserved, he will find the world proud andreserved: that I know! Because two or three failed me, I distrusted everybody, and was repaid with distrust. O my boy, do not do so! Never letyour soul be chilled by any disappointment, if you would not become asolitary and neglected old man. Better trust a thousand times, and bedeceived as often, better love a thousand times in vain, than shut upyour heart in suspicion and scorn. Your mother is right, Frank,--in that,as in every thing else, she is perfectly right!"

  "It isn't too late yet--is it?--to have friends such as you like. I amsure you can if you will," said Frank.

  "You have almost made me think so," answered the old drummer. "You havebrought back to my heart more of its youth and freshness than I had feltfor years. I want you to know that, my boy."

  Frank did not understand how it could be, and the old man did not informhim. It was now very late. The rain poured dismally. Frank lay nestled inthe old man's bosom, like a child. For a long time he did not speak. Thenthe veteran bent forward so that he could look in his face. The boy wasfast asleep.

  "How much he looks lik
e his mother! Her brow, her mouth! God bless thelad, God bless him!"

  And the old man sat and watched whilst the drummer boy slept.