Page 11 of Aladdin O'Brien


  "I thought you were dead," said the girl, still from her point ofadvantage. The lantern's light was in her face, too, and Aladdin sawthat it was beautiful.

  "Won't you help me?" he said plaintively.

  "Were you ever told that you had nice eyes?" said the girl.

  Aladdin groaned.

  "It bores you to be told that?"

  "My dear young lady," said Aladdin, "if you were as kind as you arebeautiful--"

  "How about your horse kicking me to a certain place? That was what youstarted to say, you know."

  "Lady--lady," said Aladdin, "if you only knew how I'm suffering, and I'mjust an ordinary young man with a sweetheart at home, and I don't wantto die in this hole. And now that I look at you," he said, "I see thatyou're not so much a girl as an armful of roses."

  "Are you by any chance--Irish?" said the girl, with a laugh.

  "Faith and of ahm that," said Aladdin, lapsing into full brogue; "oi'm ahireling sojer, mahm, and no inimy av yours, mahm."

  "What will you do for me if I help you?" said the girl.

  "Anything," said Aladdin.

  "Will you say 'God save Jefferson Davis, President of the ConfederateStates of America,' and sing 'Dixie'--that is, if you can keep a tune.'Dixie''s rather hard."

  "I'll 'God bless Jefferson Davis and every future President of theConfederate States, if there are any,' ten million times, if you'll helpme out, and--"

  "Will you promise not to fight any more?"

  A long silence.

  "No."

  "You needn't do the other things either," said the girl, presently. Hervoice, oddly enough, was husky.

  "I thought it would be good to see a Yankee suffer," she said after awhile, "but it isn't."

  "If you could let a ladder down," said Aladdin, "I might be able to getup it."

  "I'll get one," said the girl. Then she appeared to reflect. "No," shesaid; "we must wait till dark. There are people about, and they'd killyou. Can you live in that hole till dark?"

  "If you could throw down a lot of hay," said Aladdin. "It's very wetdown here and hard."

  The girl went, and came with a bundle of hay.

  "Look out for the lantern," she called, and threw the hay down tohim. She brought, in all, seven large bundles and was starting for theeighth, when, by a special act of Providence, the flooring gave again,and she made an excellent imitation of Aladdin's shute on the previousevening. By good fortune, however, she landed on the soft hay and wasnot hurt beyond a few scratches.

  "Did you notice," she said, with a little gasp, "that I didn't scream?"

  "You aren't hurt, are you?" said Aladdin.

  "No," she said; "but--do you realize that we can't get out, now?"

  She made a bed of the hay.

  "You crawl over on that," she said.

  Aladdin bit his lips and groaned as he moved.

  "It's really broken, isn't it?" said the girl. Aladdin lay back gasping.

  "You poor boy," she said.

  XXVI

  The girl borrowed Aladdin's pocket-knife and began whittling at afragment of board. Then she tore several yards of ruffle from her whitepetticoat, cut his trouser leg off below the knee, cut the lacings ofhis boot, and bandaged his broken leg to the splint she had made. Allthat was against a series of most courteous protests, made in a tearfulvoice.

  When she had done, Aladdin took her hand in his and kissed the fingers.

  "They're the smallest sisters of mercy I ever saw," said he. She made noattempt to withdraw her hand.

  "It was stupid of me to fall through," she said.

  "Isn't there any possible way of getting out?"

  "No; the walls are stone."

  "O Lord!" said Aladdin.

  "I'm glad I repented before I fell through," said the girl.

  "So am I," said Aladdin.

  "What were you doing in our stable?" said the girl.

  "I got lost, and came in for shelter."

  "You came to the house first. I heard you knocking, and saw you from thewindow. But I wouldn't let you in, because my father and brother wereaway, and besides, I knew you were a Yankee."

  "It was too dark to see my uniform."

  "I could tell by the way you rode."

  "Is it as bad as that?"

  "No--but it's different."

  The girl laid her hand on Aladdin's forehead.

  "You've got fever," she said.

  "It doesn't matter," said Aladdin, politely.

  "Does your leg hurt awfully?"

  "It doesn't matter."

  "Did any one ever tell you that you were very civil for a Yankee?"

  "It doesn't matter," said Aladdin.

  She looked at him shrewdly, and saw that the light of reason had goneout of his eyes. She wetted her handkerchief with the cold, filthy waterspread over the cellar floor and laid it on his forehead. Aladdin spokeramblingly or kept silence. Every now and then the girl freshened thehandkerchief, and presently Aladdin fell into a troubled sleep.

  When he awoke his mind was quite clear. The lantern still burned, butfaintly, for the air in the cellar was becoming heavy. Beside him onthe straw the girl lay sleeping. And overhead footsteps sounded on thestable floor. He remembered what the girl had said about the people whowould kill him if they found him, and blew out the lantern. Then, hishand over her mouth, he waked the girl.

  "Don't make a noise," he said. "Listen."

  The girl sat up on the straw.

  "I'll call," she whispered presently, "and pretend you're not here."

  "But the horse?"

  "I'll lie about him."

  She raised her voice.

  "Who's there?" she called.

  "It's I--Calvert. Where are you?"

  "Listen," she answered; "I've fallen through the floor into the cellar.Don't you see where it's broken?"

  The footsteps approached.

  "You're not hurt, are you?"

  "No; but don't come too close, don't try to look down; the floor'sfrightfully rickety. Isn't there a ladder there somewhere?"

  A man laughed.

  "Wait," he said. They heard his footsteps and laughter receding.Presently the bottom of a ladder appeared through the hole in the floor.

  "Look out for your head," said the man.

  The girl rose and guided the ladder clear of Aladdin's head.

  "What have you done with the Yankee's horse?" she called.

  "He's here."

  "Where's the Yankee, do you suppose?"

  "We think he must have run off into the woods."

  "That's what I thought."

  The girl began to mount the ladder.

  "I'm coming up," she said.

  She disappeared, and the ladder was withdrawn.

  She came back after a long time, and there were men with her.

  "It's all right, Yankee," she called down the hole. "They're your ownmen, and I'm the prisoner now."

  The ladder reappeared, and two friendly men in blue came down into thecellar.

  "Good God!" they said. "It's Aladdin O'Brien!"

  Hannibal St. John and Beau Larch lifted Aladdin tenderly and took himout of his prison.

  Outside, tents were being pitched in the dark, and there was a sound ofaxes. Fires glowed here and there through the woods and over the fields,and troops kept pouring into the plantation. They laid Aladdin on a heapof hay and went to bring a stretcher. The girl sat down beside him.

  "You'll be all right now," she said.

  "Yes," said Aladdin.

  "And go home to your sweetheart."

  "Yes," said Aladdin, and he thought of the tall violets on the banks ofthe Maine brooks, and the freshness of the sea.

  "What is her name?" said the girl.

  "Margaret," said Aladdin.

  "Mine's Ellen," said the girl, and it seemed as if she sighed.

  Aladdin took her hand.

  "You 've been very good to me," he said, and his voice grew tender, forshe was very beautiful, "and I'll never forget you," he
said.

  "Oh, me!" said the girl, and there was a silence between them.

  "I tried to help you," said the girl, faintly, "but I wasn't very goodat it."

  "You were an angel," said Aladdin.

  "I don't suppose we'll ever see each other again, will we?" said thegirl.

  "I don't know," said Aladdin. "Perhaps I'll come back some day."

  "It's very silly of me--" said the girl.

  "What?" said Aladdin.

  "Nothing."

  He closed his eyes, for he was very weak. It seemed as if a greatsweetness came close to his face, and he could have sworn that somethingwet and hot fell lightly on his forehead; but when he opened his eyes,the girl was sitting aloof, her face in the shadow.

  "I dreamed just then," said Aladdin, "that something wonderful happenedto me. Did it?"

  "What would you consider wonderful?"

  Aladdin laid a finger on his forehead; he drew it away and saw that thetip was wet.

  "I couldn't very well say," he said.

  The girl bent over him.

  "It nearly happened," she said.

  "You are very wonderful and beautiful," said Aladdin.

  Her eyes were like stars, and she leaned closer.

  "Are you going to go on fighting against my people?" she said.

  Roses lay for a moment on his lips.

  "Are you?"

  He made no sign. If she had kissed him again he would have renounced hisbirthright and his love.

  "God bless and keep you, Yankee," she said.

  Tears rushed out of Aladdin's eyes.

  "They're coming to take you away," she said. "Good-by."

  "Kiss me again," said Aladdin, hoarsely.

  She looked at him quietly for some moments.

  "And your sweetheart?" she said.

  Aladdin covered his face with his arm.

  "Poor little traitor," said the girl, sadly. She rose and, withoutlooking back, moved slowly up the road toward the house.

  Nor did Aladdin ever see her again, but in after years the smell of boxor roses would bring into his mind the wonderful face of her, and themusic of her voice.

  In the delirium which was upon him all that night, he harped to thesurgeon of Ellen, and in the morning fell asleep.

  "Haec olim meminisse juvabit," said the surgeon, as rain-clouded dawnrose whitely in the east.

  XXVII

  Aladdin was jolted miserably down the Peninsula in a white ambulance,which mules dragged through knee-deep mud and over flowing, corduroyroads. He had fever in his whole body, anguish in one leg, and hardly awish to live. But at Fort Monroe the breezes came hurrying from the sea,like so many unfailing doctors, and blew his fever back inland whereit belonged. He lay under a live-oak on the parade ground and once morereceived the joy of life into his heart. When he was well enough to limpabout, they gave him leave to go home; and he went down into a ship,and sailed away up the laughing Chesapeake, and up the broad Potomac toWashington. There he rested during one night, and in the morning tooktrain for New York. The train was full of sick and wounded going home,and there was a great cheerfulness upon them all. Men joined by thebrotherhood of common experience talked loudly, smoked hard, and drankdeep. There was tremendous boasting and the accounting of unrivaledadventures. In Aladdin's car, however, there was one man who did notjoin in the fellowship, for he was too sick. He had been a big man andstrong, but he looked like a ghost made of white gossamer and violetshadows. His own mother would not have recognized him. He lay backinto the corner of a seat with averted face and closed eyes. The moredecent-minded endeavored, on his account, to impose upon the noisy adegree of quiet, but their efforts were unavailing. Aladdin, drummingwith his nails upon the windowpane, fell presently into soft song:

  Give me three breaths of pleasure After three deaths of pain, And make me not remeasure The ways that were in vain.

  Men grew silent and gathered to hear, for Aladdin's fame as a maker ofsongs had spread over the whole army, and he was called the MinstrelMajor. He felt his audience and sang louder. The very sick man turneda little so that he, too, could hear. Only the occasional striking ofa match or the surreptitious drawing of a cork interrupted. The statelytune moved on:

  The first breath shall be laughter, The second shall be wine; And there shall follow after A kiss that shall be mine.

  Somehow all the homing hearts were set to beating.

  Roses with dewfall laden One garden grows for me; I call them kisses, maiden, And gather them from thee.

  The very sick man turned fully, and there was a glad light ofrecognition in his eyes.

  Give me three kisses only-- Then let the storm break o'er The vessel beached and lonely Upon the lonely shore.

  If Aladdin's singing ever moved anybody particularly, it was Aladdin,and that was why it moved other people. He sang on with tears in hisvoice

  Give me three breaths of pleasure After three deaths of pain, And I will no more treasure The hopes that are in vain.

  There was silence for a moment, more engaging than applause, and thenapplause. Aladdin was in his element, and he wondered what he wouldbest sing next if they should ask him to sing again, and this theyimmediately did. The train was jolting along between Baltimore andPhiladelphia. There was much beer in the bellies of the sick andwounded, and much sentiment in their hearts. Aladdin's finger was alwayson the pulse of his audience, and he began with relish:

  Oh, shut and dark her window is In the dark house on the hill, But I have come up through the lilac walk To the lilt of the whippoorwill, With the old years tugging at my hands And my heart which is her heart still.

  There was another man in the car whose whole life centered about a houseon a hill with a lilac walk leading up to it. He was the very sick man,and a shadow of red color came into his cheeks.

  They said, "You must come to the house once more, Ere the tale of your years be done, You must stand and look up at her window again, Ere the sands of your life are run, As the night-time follows the lost daytime, And the heart goes down with the sun."

  There were tears in the very sick man's eyes, for the future was hiddenfrom him. Aladdin sang on:

  Though her window be darkest of every one, In the dark house on the hill, Yet I turn to it here from this ruin of grass, She has leaned on that window's sill, And dark it is, but there is, there is An echo of light there still!

  There was great applause from the drunk and sentimental. And Aladdinlowered his eyes until it was over. When he raised them it was toencounter those of the very sick man. Aladdin sprang to his feet with acry and went limping down the aisle.

  "Peter," he cried, "by all that's holy!"

  All the tenderness of the Celt gushed into Aladdin's heart as herealized the pitiful condition and shocking emaciation of his friend. Heput his arm gently about him, and thus they sat until the journey's end.In New York they separated.

  Aladdin rested that night and boarded an early morning train for Boston.He settled himself contentedly behind a newspaper, and fell to gatheringnews of the army. But it was difficult to read. A sentence beginninglike this: "Rumors of a savage engagement between the light horseunder" would shape itself like this: "I am going to see Margaretto-morrow--to-morrow--to-morrow--I am going to see Margaretto-morrow-tomorrow--and God is good--is good--is good."

  Oddly enough, there was another man in the car who was having preciselythe same difficulty in deciphering his newspaper. At about the sametime they both gave up the attempt; and their eyes met. And they laughedaloud. And presently, seated together, they fell into good talk, buteach refrained pointedly from asking the other where he was going.

  With a splendid assumption of innocence, they drove together acrossBoston, and remarking nothing on the coincidence, each distinctly heardthe other checking his lug
gage for Portland, Maine.

  Side by side they rolled out of Portland and saw familiar trees andhills go by. Presently Aladdin chuckled:

  "Where are you going, Peter, anyway?" he said.

  "Just where you are," said Peter.

  XXVIII

  "Peter," said Aladdin, presently, "it seems to me that for two such oldfriends we are lacking in confidence. I know precisely what you arethinking about, and you know precisely what I am. We mustn't play thejealous rivals to the last; and to put it plainly, Peter, if God isgoing to be good to you instead of me, why, I'm going to try and thankGod just the same. A personal disappointment is a purely private matterand has no license to upset old ties and affections. Does it occur toyou that we are after the same thing and that one of us isn't going toget it?"

  "We won't let it make any difference," said Peter, stoutly.

  "That's just it," said Aladdin. "We mustn't."

  "The situation--" Peter began.

  "Is none the less difficult, I know. Here we are with a certain amountof leave to occupy as we each see fit. And, unfortunately, there's onlyone thing which seems fit to either of us. And, equally unfortunately,it's something we can't hold hands and do at the same time. Shall I gostraight from the station to Mrs. Brackett's and wait until you've hadyour say, Peter?--not that I want to wait very long," he added.

  "That wouldn't be at all fair," said Peter.