He! In her heart desire and odium beat strangely together. Fine as martial music he was, yet gallingly out of her rhythm, above her key. Liked her much, too. Yes, for charms she had; any fool could be liked that way. What she craved was to be liked for charms she had not, graces she scorned; and because she could not be sure how much of that sort she was winning she tingled with heat against him--and against Anna--Anna giver of guns--who had the money to give guns--till her bosom rose and fell. But suddenly her musing ceased, her eyes shone.
A mounted officer galloped into the driveway, a private soldier followed, and the private was her brother. Now they came close. The leader dismounted, pa.s.sed his rein to Charlie and sprang up the veranda steps. Flora shrank softly from the window and at the same moment Anna reentered gayly, showing a glitter of values twice all expectation:
"If these are not enough--" She halted with lips apart. Flora had made sign toward the front door, and now with a moan of fond protest covered the gem-laden hand in both her palms and pushed it from her.
"Take them back," she whispered, yet held it fast, ""tis too late! There--the door-bell! "Tis Hilary Kincaid! All is too late, take them back!"
"Take them, you!" as vehemently whispered Anna. "You must take them! You must, you shall!"
Flora had half started to fly, but while she hung upon Anna"s words she let her palms slip under the bestowing hand and the treasure slide into her own fingers.
"Too late, too late! And oh, I can never, never use them any"ow!" She sprang noiselessly aside. To a maid who came down the hall Anna quietly motioned to show the newcomer into an opposite room, but Flora saw that the sign was misinterpreted: "She didn"t understan"! Anna, she"s going to bring him!" Before the words were done the speaker"s lithe form was gliding down the room toward the door by which the other ladies had gone out, but as she reached it she turned with a hand-toss as of some despairing afterthought and flitted back.
Out in the hall the front door opened and closed and a sabre clinked: "Is Miss Callender at home?"
Before the question was half put its unsuspected hearers had recovered a faultless poise. Beside a table that bore her roses she whom the inquirer sought stood retouching them and reflecting a faint excess of their tint, while Flora, in a grave joy of the theatrical, equal to her companion"s distress of it, floated from view behind the silken screen.
XX
THE FIGHT FOR THE STANDARD
His red kepi in hand and with all the stalwart briskness of the flag-presentation"s day and hour Hilary Kincaid stepped into the room and halted, as large-eyed as on that earlier occasion, and even more startled, before the small figure of Anna.
Yet not the very same Hilary Kincaid. So said her heart the instant glance met glance. The tarnish of hard use was on all his trappings; like sea-marshes on fire he was reddened and browned; about him hung palpably the sunshine and air of sands and waves, and all the stress and swing of wide designs; and on brow and cheek were new lines that looked old. From every point of his aspect the truth rushed home to her livelier, deadlier than ever hitherto, that there was War, and that he and she were already parts of it.
But the change was more than this. A second and quieter look, the hand-grasp lingering, showed something deeper; something that wove and tangled itself through and about all designs, toils, and vigils, and suddenly looking out of his eyes like a starved captive, cried, "you--you--" and prophesied that, whether they would or not, this war was to be his and hers together. A responding thrill must have run from her fingers into his and belied the unaccountable restraint of her welcome, for a joy shone from him which it took her ignoring smile and her hand"s withdrawal to quench.
"Miss Anna--"
They sat down. His earlier boyishness came again somewhat, but only somewhat, as he dropped his elbows to his knees, looking now into his cap and now into her face. A glance behind her had a.s.sured Anna that there was no shadow on the screen, behind which sat Flora on the carpet, at graceful ease listening while she eagerly appraised the jewels in her hands and lap.
"Miss Anna," said the soldier again, "I"ve come--I"ve come to tell you something. It"s mighty hard to tell. It"s harder than I thought it would be. For, honestly, Miss Anna, you--from the first time I ever saw you, you--you--Were you going to speak?"
Behind the screen Flora smiled malignly while Anna said, "No, I--I was only--no, not at all; go on."
"Yes, Miss Anna, from the first time I--"
"When did you get back from Mobile?" asked Anna seeing he must be headed off.
"From Mobile? Just now, almost. You don"t sup--"
"Oh! I hope"--she must head him off again--"I hope you bring good news?" There was risk in the question, but where was there safety? At her back the concealed listener waited keenly for the reply.
"Yes," said Hilary, "news the very best and hardly an hour old. Didn"t you hear the battery cheering? That"s what I"ve come to tell you. Though it"s hard to tell, for I--"
"It"s from Mobile, you say?"
"No, I can tell you the Mobile news first, but it"s bad. Miss Flora"s home--"
Anna gave a start and with a hand half upthrown said quietly, "Don"t tell me. No, please, don"t, I don"t want to hear it. I can"t explain, but I--I--" Tears wet her lashes, and her hands strove with each other. "I don"t like bad news. You should have taken it straight to Flora. Oh, I wish you"d do that now, won"t you--please?"
Behind the screen the hidden one stiffened where she crouched with fierce brow and fixed eyes.
Kincaid spoke: "Would you have me pa.s.s you by with my good news to go first to her with the bad?"
"Oh, Captain Kincaid, yes, yes! Do it yet. Go, do it now. And tell her the good news too!"
"Tell her the good first and then stab her with the bad?"
"Oh, tell her the bad first. Do her that honor. She has earned it. She"ll bear the worst like the heroine she is--the heroine and patriot. She"s bearing it so now!"
"What! she knows already?"
In her hiding Flora"s intent face faintly smiled a malevolence that would have startled even the grandam who still killed time out among the roses with her juniors.
"Yes," replied Anna, "she knows already."
"Knows! Miss Anna--that her home is in ashes?"
Anna gave a wilder start: "Oh, no-o-oh! Oh, yes--oh, no--oh, yes, yes! Oh, Captain Kincaid, how could you? Oh, monstrous, monstrous!" She made all possible commotion to hide any sound that might betray Flora, who had sprung to her feet, panting.
"But, but, Miss Anna!" protested Hilary. "Why, Miss Anna--"
"Oh, Captain Kincaid, how could you?"
"Why, you don"t for a moment imagine--?"
"Oh, it"s done, it"s done! Go, tell her. Go at once, Captain Kincaid. Please go at once, won"t you?... Please!"
He had risen amazed. Whence such sudden horror, in this fair girl, of a thing known by her already before he came? And what was this beside? Horror in the voice yet love beaming from the eyes? He was torn with perplexity. "I"ll go, of course," he said as if in a dream. "Of course I"ll go at once, but--why--if Miss Flora already--?" Then suddenly he recovered himself in the way Anna knew so well. "Miss Anna"--he gestured with his cap, his eyes kindling with a strange mixture of worship and drollery though his brow grew darker--"I"m gone now!"
"In mercy, please go!"
"I"m gone, Miss Anna, I"m truly gone. I always am when I"m with you. Fred said it would be so. You scare the nonsense out of me, and when that goes I go--the bubble bursts! Miss Anna--oh, hear me--it"s my last chance--I"ll vanish in a moment. The fellows tell me I always know just what to say to any lady or to anything a lady says; but, on my soul, I don"t think I"ve ever once known what to say to you or to anything you"ve ever said to me, and I don"t know now, except that I must and will tell you--"
"That you did not order the torch set! Oh, say that!"
"No one ordered it. It was a senseless mistake. Some private soldiers who knew that my lines of survey pa.s.sed through the house--"
"Ah-h! ah-h!"
"Miss Anna, what would you have? Such is war! Many"s the Southern home must go down under the fire of--of Kincaid"s Battery, Miss Anna, before this war is over, else we might as well bring you back your flag and guns. Shall we? We can"t now, they"re ordered to the front. There! I"ve got it out! That"s my good news. Bad enough for mothers and sisters. Bad for the sister of Charlie Valcour. Good for you. So good and bad in one for me, and so hard to tell and say no more! Don"t you know why?"
"Oh, I"ve no right to know--and you"ve no right--oh, indeed, you mustn"t. It would be so unfair--to you. I can"t tell you why, but it--it would be!"
"And it wouldn"t be of--?"
"Any use? No, no!"