"I"ll do it! I have no time for disputation, as you know, and you profit by the knowledge. I"ll do it, though under protest," muttered Le Noir, grinding his teeth.
"That"s my brave and generous patron!" said Black Donald, as he arose to attend Le Noir from the cavern; "that"s my magnificent colonel of cavalry! The man who runs such risks for you should be very handsomely remunerated!"
CHAPTER XIV.
GLORY.
"What Alexander sighed for, What Caesar"s soul possessed, What heroes, saints have died for, Glory!"
Within three days after his settlement with Black Donald, Colonel Le Noir left home to join his regiment, ordered to Mexico.
He was accompanied by his son Craven Le Noir as far as Baltimore, from which port the reinforcements were to sail for New Orleans, en route for the seat of war.
Here, at the last moment, when the vessel was about to weigh anchor, Craven Le Noir took leave of his father and set out for the Hidden House.
And here Colonel Le Noir"s regiment was joined by the company of new recruits in which Herbert Greyson held a commission as lieutenant, and thus the young man"s worst forebodings were realized in having for a traveling companion and superior officer the man of whom he had been destined to make a mortal enemy, Colonel Le Noir. However, Herbert soon marked out his course of conduct, which was to avoid Le Noir as much as was consistent with his own official duty, and, when compelled to meet him, to deport himself with the cold ceremony of a subordinate to a superior officer.
Le Noir, on his part, treated Herbert with an arrogant scorn amounting to insult, and used every opportunity afforded him by his position to wound and humiliate the young lieutenant.
After a quick and prosperous voyage they reached New Orleans, where they expected to be farther reinforced by a company of volunteers who had come down the Mississippi river from St. Louis. These volunteers were now being daily drilled at their quarters in the city, and were only waiting the arrival of the vessel to be enrolled in the regiment.
One morning, a few days after the ship reached harbor, Herbert Greyson went on sh.o.r.e to the military rendezvous to see the new recruits exercised. While he stood within the enclosure watching their evolutions under the orders of an officer, his attention became concentrated upon the form of a young man of the rank and file who was marching in a line with many others having their backs turned toward him. That form and gait seemed familiar--the circ.u.mstances in which he saw them again--painfully familiar. And yet he could not identify the man. While he gazed, the recruits, at the word of command, suddenly wheeled and faced about. And Herbert could scarcely repress an exclamation of astonishment and regret.
That young man in the dress of a private soldier was Clara Day"s betrothed, the widow"s only son, Traverse Rocke! While Herbert continued to gaze in surprise and grief, the young recruit raised his eyes, recognized his friend, flushed up to his very temples and cast his eyes down again. The rapid evolutions soon wheeled them around, and the next order sent them into their quarters.
Herbert"s time was also up, and he returned to his duty.
The next day Herbert went to the quarters of the new recruits and sought out his young friend, whom he found loitering about the grounds.
Again Traverse blushed deeply as the young lieutenant approached. But Herbert Greyson, letting none of his regret appear, since now it would be worse than useless in only serving to give pain to the young private, went up to him cordially and shook his hands, saying:
"Going to serve your country, eh, Traverse? Well, I am heartily glad to see you, at any rate."
"But heartily sorry to see me here, enlisted as a private in a company of raw recruits, looking not unlike Falstaff"s ragged regiment?"
"Nay; I did not say that, Traverse. Many a private in the ranks has risen to be a general officer," replied Herbert, encouragingly.
Traverse laughed good humoredly, saying:
"It does not look much like that in my case. This dress," he said, looking down at his coa.r.s.e, ill-fitting uniform, cowhide shoes, etc.; "this dress, this drilling, these close quarters, coa.r.s.e food and mixed company are enough to take the military ardor out of any one!"
"Traverse, you talk like a pet.i.t maitre, which is not at all your character. Effeminacy is not your vice."
"Nor any other species of weakness, do you mean? Ah, Herbert, your aspiring hopeful, confident old friend is considerably taken down in his ideas of himself, his success and life in general! I went to the West with high hopes. Six months of struggling against indifference, neglect and acc.u.mulated debts lowered them down! I carried out letters and made friends, but their friendship began and ended in wishing me well. While trying to get into profitable practice I got into debt.
Meanwhile I could not hear from my betrothed in all those months. An occasional letter from her might have prevented this step. But troubles gathered around me, debts increased and--"
"--Creditors were cruel. It is the old story; my poor boy!"
"No; my only creditors were my landlady and my laundress, two poor widows who never willingly distressed me, but who occasionally asked for "that little amount" so piteously that my heart bled to lack it to give them. And as victuals and clean shirts were absolute necessaries of life, every week my debts increased. I could have faced a prosperous male creditor, and might, perhaps, have been provoked to bully such an one, had he been inclined to be cruel; but I could not face poor women who, after all, I believe, are generally the best friends a struggling young man can have; and so, not to bore a smart young lieutenant with a poor private"s antecedents--"
"Oh, Traverse--"
"--I will even make an end of my story. "At last there came a weary day when hope and faith beneath the weight gave way." And, hearing that a company of volunteers was being raised to go to Mexico, I enlisted, sold my citizen"s wardrobe and my little medical library, paid my debts, made my two friends, the poor widows, some acceptable presents, sent the small remnant of the money to my mother, telling her that I was going farther south to try my fortune, and--here I am."
"You did not tell her that you had enlisted?"
"No."
"Oh, Traverse, how long ago was it that you left St. Louis?"
"Just two weeks."
"Ah! if you had only had patience for a few days longer!" burst unaware from Herbert"s bosom. In an instant he was sorry for having spoken thus, for Traverse, with all his soul in his eyes, asked eagerly:
"Why--why, Herbert? What do you mean?"
"Why, you should know that I did not come direct from West Point, but from the neighborhood of Staunton and Hurricane Hall."
"Did you? Oh, did you? Then you may be able to give me news of Clara and my dear mother," exclaimed Traverse, eagerly.
"Yes, I am--pleasant news," said Herbert, hesitating in a manner which no one ever hesitated before in communicating good tidings.
"Thank heaven! oh, thank heaven! What is it, Herbert? How is my dear mother getting on? Where is my best Clara?"
"They are both living together at Willow Heights, according to the wishes of the late Doctor Day. A second appeal to the Orphans" Court made in behalf of Clara by her next friend, Doctor Williams, about a month ago, proved more successful. And if you had waited a few days longer before enlisting and leaving St. Louis, you would have received a letter from Clara to the same effect, and one from Doctor Williams apprizing you that your mother had received her legacy, and that the thousand dollars left you by Doctor Day had been paid into the Agricultural Bank, subject to your orders."
"Oh, heaven! had I but waited three days longer!" exclaimed Traverse, in such acute distress that Herbert hastened to console him by saying:
"Do not repine, Traverse; these things go by fate. It was your destiny--let us hope it will prove a glorious one."
"It was my impatience!" exclaimed Traverse. "It was my impatience!
Doctor Day always faithfully warned me against it; always told me that most of the errors, sins and miseries of this world arose from simple impatience, which is want of faith. And now I know it! and now I know it! What had I, who had an honorable profession, to do with becoming a private soldier?"
"Well, well, it is honorable at least to serve your country," said Herbert, soothingly.
"If a foreign foe invaded her sh.o.r.es, yes; but what had I to do with invading another"s country?--enlisting for a war of the rights and wrongs of which I know no more than anybody else does? Growing impatient because fortune did not at once empty her cornucopia upon my head! Oh, fool!"
"You blame yourself too severely, Traverse. Your act was natural enough and justifiable enough, much as it is to be regretted," said Herbert, cheerfully.
"Come, come, sit on this plank bench beside me--if you are not ashamed to be seen with a private who is also a donkey--and tell me all about it. Show me the full measure of the happiness I have so recklessly squandered away," exclaimed Traverse, desperately.
"I will sit beside you and tell you everything you wish to know, on condition that you stop berating yourself in a manner that fills me with indignation," replied Herbert, as they went to a distant part of the dusty enclosure and took their seats upon a rude bench.
"Oh, Herbert, bear with me; I could dash my wild, impatient head against a stone wall!"