Lanier of the Cavalry.
by Charles King.
I
The sun was sinking low beyond the ford of the foaming Platte. The distant bluffs commanding the broad valley of the Sweet.w.a.ter stood sharp and clear against the westward skies. The smoke from the camp-fires along the stream rose in misty columns straight aloft, for not so much as a breath of breeze had wafted down from the far snow fields of Cloud Peak, or the sun-sheltered rifts of the Big Horn. The flag at the old fort, on the neighboring height, clung to the staff with scarcely a flutter, awaiting the evening salute of the trumpets and the roar of the sunset gun.
The long June day had seemed unusually unconscionably long to the young girl flitting restlessly about the vine-covered porch of the roadside cottage. She laid the big binocular aside, for perhaps the twentieth time within the hour, with a sigh of impatience, a piteous quiver about the pretty, rosebud mouth, a wistful, longing look in the dark and dreamy eyes. Ever since stable call, and her father"s departure to his never-neglected duty, she had hovered about that shaded nook, again and again searching the northward slopes and ridges. The scouts had been in three hours ago, reporting the squadron only a mile or so behind. It should have dismounted, unsaddled, fed, watered, and groomed by this time, and Rawdon should have been here at her side--Rawdon, whom she had not seen for three mortal days--Rawdon, whom, for three mortal weeks before the march, she had not missed seeing sometimes several times a day, even when he was on guard--Rawdon, whom she had never set eyes on before the first of April, and whom now she looked upon as the foremost soldier of the regiment, when in point of fact he was but a private trooper, serving the first part of his first enlistment, in the eyes of his elders a mere recruit, and in those of Sergeant Fitzroy an unspeakable thing.
Another long peep through the signal gla.s.ses, another sigh, and then she came, this girl of seventeen, in her dainty white frock, and plumped herself dejectedly down on the top step, with two very shapely, slender, slippered feet displayed on the second below, two dimpled elbows planted on her knees, two flushed, soft, rounded cheeks buried in two long and slender hands. Away over at the stables she could hear the tap, tap, of curry-comb on brush-back, as the First Squadron groomed its fidgety mounts. Away up the valley the voices of the children in the Arapahoe village rose gleefully on the air. Away up among the barracks and quarters at the fort, the band of the Infantry was playing sweet melody.
Peace, content, and harmony were roundabout her, but the dark eyes, welling with unshed tears, told of a troubled heart.
And then of a sudden the tears were dashed away and the girl sprang to her feet. A blithe voice hailed her from within.
"Dey"s comin", Miss Dora--two on "em, at least--like enough to be twin brudders."
The girl ran to the northward corner again and gazed out across the rushing, swollen river. Not so much as a sign of a dust-cloud to tell of marching cavalry, and she turned again, with rebuke ready on her tongue, but again the voice from within:
"Comin" _t "other_ way, chile. Must ha" took the lower fohd and rode roun" back o" de stables," and, with the words, a laughing "mammy" came bustling to the front door, a cool white pitcher in one hand, a tray with gla.s.ses in the other.
"Ah know well "nuff what brings de lieutenant round dis way. As for dat--_trash_--wid him"--and here came a chuckle of delight at her own wit--"he just cain"t help hisself." But Dora was not listening. Light as a bird she had flown to the other end of the little porch and was gazing out through the honeysuckles with all her soul in her eyes.
Coming up the slope at easy canter rode a young officer, with broad-brimmed hat and dusty field dress, alert, slender, sinewy, of only medium height and not more than twenty-five years, with a handsome, sun-tanned, smiling face, a picture of healthful, wholesome young manhood. And behind him, at the regulation distance, came what Aunt Chloe, in her "darky" dialect more than once had declared "the very spit of him"--a young trooper in similar slouch hat and dusty field dress, younger, probably, by three or four years, but to the full as alert and active, as healthful and wholesome to look at, his face now all aglow with a light that was sweet for girlish eyes to see.
The leader swung his hat and blithely shouted as he curbed his eager horse. "Howdy, Miss Dora. Bless your heart, Aunt Chloe, I knew you"d have the b.u.t.termilk ready! No, Rawdon, I shan"t dismount"--this to the young "orderly," who had sprung from saddle and, with his rein over his arm, stood ready to take that of his officer. "Merciful saints! but isn"t that good after thirty miles of alkali!" He had swallowed a br.i.m.m.i.n.g goblet of the cool, refreshing drink, and Chloe was delightedly refilling. "Father home, Miss Dora?" he went on cheerily.
"Over at the stables, Mr. Lanier," was the smiling answer. The face of the girl was sunshine and roses now, yet merely a glance or two had pa.s.sed, for Trooper Rawdon had instantly swung once more into saddle and was reining back to his place.
"Stables going _yet_? Why, I thought it must be supper time. Colonel sent me ahead to find him. Three of "E" Troop horses act like they"d been eating loco-weed. That"s what kept us."
"Colonel b.u.t.ton"s always findin" some way of sendin" you in ahaid, Ma.r.s.e Lanier," grinned Chloe. "Ah don"t wonder dey says _you_ can do anything you like an" never get hauled up for it."
"You"re a gossip, Auntie," laughed Lanier. "The colonel would cinch me quick as the next man if I happened to rub his fur the wrong way. One more swig now and I"m off. Tastes almost like the South again, doesn"t it?"
"Lak de _Souf_!" Aunt Chloe bristled, indignant. "Sho! Dat"s no more lak de b.u.t.termilk _we_ makes dan dat ar" hawse is lak de racers at Belle Mead. Cows got to have white clover, Ma.r.s.e Lanier, an" white clover don"t grow in dis Gawd foh-saken country."
"It"s good all the same. Thank you, heartily, Miss Dora. You, too, Auntie. Er--Rawdon, you dismount and wait for Doctor Mayhew in case I miss him. Give him the colonel"s message and say the squadron should be in by 7.30." And with that and a wave of his hand and a smiling good-night, he took the rein of the troop horse and away they sped to the stables.
Then Chloe vanished opportunely. The young trooper stood one instant looking gratefully after his officer and those curvetting steeds, eager to reach their home and supper. Dora, with glistening eyes and glowing cheeks, retreated within the shelter of the bowered porch. Then, bounding up the steps and turning with outstretched arms, thither Rawdon followed.
Ten minutes later, at swift trot, came a third horse and rider, the horse all that a cavalry horse should be in gait and build, the rider well nigh as marked in build and proportions. He, too, was well-made and muscular, though somewhat heavy and stocky; he was as soldierly, if not as young, as the two so recently there in saddle. It was the face that repelled, for it was black with wrath and suspicion. In front of the little cottage of the veterinary surgeon he hurriedly dismounted, threw the reins over the post at the horse-block, and strode, angering, through the gate. The murmur of blissful voices had ceased at first sight of him. Dora, her face paling, met him at the head of the steps.
Hardly noticing her by look or word, he brushed by, turned sharp to his left, and in an instant the two men were face to face.
"Rawdon," spoke the new-comer, his tone curt, domineering, insolent, "what do you mean by letting an officer lead your horse to stables? Go you to yours at once! Take my horse, too, and groom _him_."
Rawdon flushed to his forehead, said not a word, came forth into the light, and then turned squarely.
"My orders were from Lieutenant Lanier, sergeant, and they were distinctly to stop here."
"Go you at once and do as I say," was the instant rejoinder, and the veins in the sergeant"s face were swelled almost to bursting. His eyes were fiery, his lips were quivering in his wrath.
"Indeed, Sergeant Fitzroy," began the girl rebukefully, "those were Lieutenant Lanier"s orders."
"Hang Lieutenant Lanier"s orders! No stripling sub can give such orders in this regiment. How dare you delay there? Go, you townskip, or I"ll kick you through the ----"
But now with blazing eyes Dora Mayhew threw herself in front of him.
Tall, lithe, and slender herself, she seemed just the height of the young trooper she defended. "If you raise hand or foot against Rawdon, Sergeant Fitzroy, it"s the last time you come inside our gate. No, I"ll _not_ stand aside! Before you strike him you"ll have to strike me."
And then and there Sergeant Fitzroy realized that the fears and forebodings of the past month were more than grounded. If angered before, he was maddened now. Brushing her light form aside with one sweep of his powerful arm, he sprang forward at the young soldier"s throat just as a tall, lean man, with grizzled beard but athletic build, bounded up the steps and caught his wrist.
"None of that in my house, Fitzroy!" came the order, stern and compelling. "In G.o.d"s name, what does this mean?" And, still grasping the sergeant"s arm, the speaker, with his face nearly as white as his stable frock, fairly backed the raging Englishman against the wooden pillar and held him there.
"Let go, Mayhew!" raved the sergeant. "I"ve ordered that young rip to stables, and he refuses to go."
"He was ordered to stay, papa, until you came," protested Dora, her eyes ablaze. "Lieutenant Lanier--_that_ man"s superior officer--gave him the colonel"s message to you."
"He was ordered to go by Lieutenant Lanier"s superior, the officer-of-the-day, whom I represent," was Fitzroy"s answer; "and the longer he stays the worse "t will be for him."
"No officer ever authorized you to come to my quarters and lay violent hands on a man behaving like a gentleman, which _you_ are not," was the cutting rejoinder of the older man, and it stung Fitzroy to fresh fury.
Was he, the model rider of the regiment, to be braved like this, and in presence of the girl he loved?
"Let go! You _must_, Mayhew!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "You have no authority. You are only a civilian. You can be broke and fired if I report this--outrage--and what I know. Let go!" he shouted, freeing himself by furious effort. "Now, you, Rawdon, come with me. No. Stop!
Corporal Watts!" he shouted, to a non-commissioned officer, swinging up the pathway toward the guard-house on the bluff, four men of the guard at his back. "Come this way," he continued, for at first no attention was paid to his hail. "Come here and take charge of this man. It"s the order of the officer-of-the-day."
Doubtfully, reluctantly, leaving his patrol disgustedly waiting, Corporal Watts slowly descended the incline, crossed the broad, hard-beaten road, then, obviously embarra.s.sed at the presence of Dora Mayhew, demanded further information before he obeyed.
By this time, Rawdon, pale and silent, was standing at the foot of the steps, indignation, resentment, and trouble all mingling in his face.
Too well he and other young soldiers had learned to know the weight of Sergeant Fitzroy"s spite. But the trouble in his eyes gave way to sudden relief. Two officers were coming swiftly round the corner of the corral, Lanier foremost.
"I say again, Corporal Watts, this man is to be taken in charge at once.
It is Captain Curbit"s order as officer-of-the-day. I came direct from him," was Fitzroy"s final order. But it failed.
"Do nothing of the kind, Corporal Watts," said a quiet voice, at sound of which Sergeant Fitzroy whirled about and turned, if a possible thing, a full shade redder. There at the gate stood Lieutenant Lanier. There, a dozen yards away, but trudging fast as dignity would permit, came the officer-of-the-day.
A jerk of the head to the corporal, in response to his instant salute, and that young soldier, much relieved, strode away to join his men. Then Captain Curbit turned on Sergeant Fitzroy.
"You told me nothing of the facts in this case, sir. Lieutenant Lanier says he _directed_ this man to wait here, with the colonel"s message, while he rode to stables. Pardon me, Miss Dora. Come this way, sergeant."
And there was nothing for it but to obey. Abashed, humiliated, rebuked and in _her_ presence, where he had looked but a moment before to humble and humiliate his rival, Fitzroy, could only lift his hand in salute, follow the captain out of earshot, and there make his plea as best he could, leaving Lanier and the silent young trooper, Dora and her grave-faced old father, in possession of the field.
For a moment they watched Fitzroy, eagerly gesticulating as he stood at attention before his superior.
"He"ll give you no more trouble, I fancy," said Lanier, in low tone, to the veterinarian. "I"ll say good-night again, Miss Dora;" and he walked cheerily away, but Mayhew looked after him long and anxiously, then upon the young people before him, then upon the still protesting sergeant across the way.
"Maybe not--maybe not," he muttered, with sorrowing shake of the head; "but few men can give more trouble than--him, when he"s minded, and I reckon he"s minded now."