upon two palm-leaf fans. 'These were all we could procure,' said the
brown-haired soldier, 'and the woman would not sell her plates.' The
pies were rapidly divided into quarters, and the hungry party began to
eat. 'It is true,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian, 'that the character
of the apple indicates the elevation above sea-level of the soil in
which it grew. The people who grew these apples would have done much
better if they had devoted themselves to the cultivation of the
huckleberry. These they could have sold, and then have bought much
better apples grown in the plains. I also notice that the flour of which
this pastry is made was ground from the wheat of this region, which is
always largely mixed with cockle. If the people would give up growing
wheat for three or four years, cockle would probably disappear, and they
would then have flour of a much higher grade.' Almia and the two
soldiers could not help smiling when they perceived that while the
Exceptional Pedestrian was making these criticisms he ate three quarters
of a pie, which was more than his share.
"When the pies had been consumed the little party pressed forward, but
not to the northeast, for the two soldiers insisted that the battle
raged in the northwest, and they would not go in any other direction,
although the Exceptional Pedestrian endeavored to overwhelm them with
arguments to prove that he was right. The din of the battle, however,
soon proved that he was wrong. Penetrating an extensive thicket, they
reached its outer edge, and there gazed upon a far-stretching
battle-field.
"Now this would be the place," said the Daughter of the House, "for a
fine description, not only of the battle-field, but of the battle which
was raging upon it; and, if I ever write this story, I shall tell how
one army was posted on one side of a wide valley, while the other army
was posted on the other, and how regiments and battalions and
detachments from each side came down into the beautiful plain and fought
and fired and struggled until the grass was stained with blood; and how
the cannon roared from the hills and mowed down whole battalions of
infantry below; how brave soldiers fell on every side, wounded and dead,
while men with stretchers hurried to carry them away from beneath the
hoofs of the charging cavalry. I would tell how the carnage increased
every moment; how the yells of fury grew louder; and how the roar of
the cannon became more and more terrible.
"But all I can say now is that it was a spectacle to freeze the blood.
Poor Almia could scarcely retain consciousness as she gazed upon the
awful scenes of woe and suffering which spread out beneath her. And she
could do nothing! Her labors would be useful only in cases of isolated
woundings. If she were to mingle in the fray she would perish in the
general slaughter; and if she were to go and offer assistance in the
hospitals she would find herself but as a drop in the bucket, her
efforts unrecognized, even if she were not driven away as an interloper.
Besides, she did not know where the hospitals were.
"As she gazed upon this scene of horror she perceived an officer,
mounted upon a noble charger and followed by several horsemen, take
a position upon a hillock not far from the spot where she and her
companions were concealed. From this point of vantage the officer, who
was evidently a general, could perceive the whole battle-field."
"And get himself picked off by a sharp-shooter," thought John Gayther,
but he did not interrupt.
"The brown-haired soldier trembled with emotion, and whispered to Almia,
'That is my Commander-in-Chief.' Even without this information Almia
would have known that the stalwart figure upon the pawing steed was an
officer in high command; for, after speaking a few words to one of his
companions, the latter galloped away into the valley toward the right,
and very soon the battle raged more fiercely in that direction, and
the booming of the cannon and the cracking of the rifles was more
continuous. Then another officer was sent galloping to the left, and in
this direction, too, the battle grew fiercer and the carnage increased.
Courier after courier was sent away, here and there, until, at last, the
commander remained with but one faithful adherent. Since his arrival
upon the hillock the horrors of the bloody contest had doubled, and
Almia could scarcely endure to look into the valley.
"'Is there no way,' she said in a gasping whisper, 'of stopping this?
These two armies are like hordes of demons! Humanity should not permit
it!'
"'Humanity has nothing to do with it,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian.
'A declaration of war eliminates humanity as a social factor. Such is
the usage of nations.'
"'I don't care for the usage of nations,' said Almia. 'It is vile!'
"Now something very important happened in the battle-field. The
Commander-in-Chief rose in his stirrups and peered afar. Then, suddenly
turning, he sent his only remaining follower with clattering hoofs to
carry a message. 'He is making it worse!' declared Almia. 'Now more
brave men will fall; more blood will flow.'
"'Of course,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian. 'He gives no thought to
the falling of brave men or the flowing of blood. Upon his commands
depends the fate of the battle!'
"'And without his commands?' asked Almia, trembling in every fibre.
"The Exceptional Pedestrian shrugged his shoulders and slightly smiled.
'Without them,' he said, 'there would soon be an end to the battle. He
is the soul, the directing spirit, of his army. Unless he directs, the
contest cannot be carried on.'
"Almia sprang to her feet, not caring whether she was seen or not. She
looked over the battle-field, and her heart was sick within her. Not
only did she see the carnage which desecrated the beautiful plain, but
she saw, far, far away, the mothers and sisters of those who were dead,
dying, and wounded; she saw the whiteness of their faces when their
feverish eyes should scan the list of dead and wounded; she saw them
groan and fall senseless when they read the names of loved ones. She
could bear no more.
"Suddenly she turned. 'Gentlemen,' she said, 'follow me.' And without
another word she stepped out into the open field and walked rapidly
toward the Commander-in-Chief, whose eyes were fixed so steadfastly on
the battle that he did not notice her approach. The three soldiers gazed
at her in amazement, and then they followed her. They could not
understand her mad action, but they could not desert her.
"Almia stopped at the horse's head. With her left hand she seized his
bridle, and in a clear, loud voice she exclaimed, 'Commander-in-Chief,
you are my prisoner!' There was no trembling, no nervousness now; body
and soul, she was as hard as steel. The general looked down upon her in
petrified bewilderment. He gazed at the three soldiers, and again looked
down at her. 'Girl!' he thundered, 'what do you mean? Let go my horse!'
As he said these words he gave his bridle a jerk; but the noble steed
paid no attention to his master. He was not afraid of girls. In former
days he had learned to like them; to him a girl meant sugar and savory
clover-tops. He bent his head toward Almia, and instantly her hand was
in her pocket and she drew forth an Albert biscuit. The horse, which had
not tasted food since morning, eagerly took it from her hand, and
crunched it in delight.
"The Commander-in-Chief now became furious, and his hand sought the hilt
of his sword. If Almia had been a man he would have cut her down.
'Girl!' he cried, 'what do you mean? Are you insane? You men, remove her
instantly.'
"Then Almia spoke up bravely, never loosening her hold upon the bridle
of the horse. 'I am not insane,' she said. 'I am a nurse, but not a
common one; I am a bushwhacker nurse, and that means I am entirely
independent. These men are under my control. They are from the opposing
armies, and compel each other to obey my commands. I have determined to
stop this blood and slaughter. If you do not quietly surrender to me I
will fire at one of your legs, and call upon the soldier who is your
enemy to attack you with his sword. His duty to his country will compel
him to do so.'
"The general, who was now so infuriated he could not speak, jerked
savagely at the reins; but Almia had just given the noble animal another
biscuit, and his nose was seeking the pocket from which it came. The
horse was conquered!
"At this moment a rifle-ball shrieked wildly overhead. The enemy had
perceived the little party upon the hillock. The three soldiers, who
stood a little below, shouted to Almia to come down or she would be
killed. She instantly obeyed this warning, but she did not release her
hold upon the general's bridle. She started down the hillock away from
the battle, and the horse, who willingly subjected himself to her
guidance, trotted beside her. The general did not attempt to restrain
him, for he had been startled by the rifle-shots.
"A little below the edge of the hill Almia stopped, and, turning toward
the Commander-in-Chief, she said, 'You might as well surrender. I do not
wish to injure you, but if you compel me to do so, I must.' And with
this she drew the pistol from her pocket.
"'Is that thing loaded?' exclaimed the general.
"'It is,' answered Almia, 'and with five balls.'
"'Please put it back in your pocket,' said the officer, who, for the
first time during the terrible battle, showed signs of fear. 'A girl
with a pistol,' said he, 'makes me shudder. Why do you stand there?' he
shouted to the three men. 'Come here and take her away.'
"But they did not obey, and the black-haired soldier stepped forward.
'You are my enemy, sir,' he said, 'and I am bound to assist in your
capture if I can. There are two of your own men here, but only one of
them is armed.'
"As he spoke these words a great shell struck the top of the hillock and
blew the earth and little stones in every direction. Without a word the
whole party retired rapidly to an open space behind a large overhanging
rock. The general was very much disturbed. The enemy must be getting
nearer. He almost forgot Almia.
"'Look here,' he cried to the brown-haired soldier; 'creep back to the
top of the hillock and tell me how the battle goes.' With furrowed brows
he waited, while Almia fed his horse. The brown-haired soldier came
quickly back. 'Tell me,' cried the general, without waiting for the
other to speak, 'has my cavalry made its grand charge, and cut off the
approach of the left wing of the enemy?'
"'No, sir,' replied the soldier, touching his cap; 'it did not charge in
time, and it is now all mixed up with the artillery, which is rapidly
retiring.'
"'What!' cried the general, 'retiring?'
"'Yes, sir,' said the soldier; 'I am sorry to say that our whole army is
retreating, pell-mell, as fast as it can go. The enemy is in active
pursuit, and its left wing is now advancing up this side of the valley.
In less than twenty minutes the retreat of our cavalry and artillery
will be cut off by the hills, and the infantry is already scattering
itself far and wide.'
"'I must go!' shouted the general, drawing his sword from its scabbard.
'I must rally my forces! I must--'
"'No, general,' said the brown-haired soldier; 'that is impossible. If
you were now to attempt to approach our army you would throw yourself
into the ranks of the enemy.'
"The Commander-in-Chief dropped the bridle from his listless hands, and
bowed his head. 'Lost!' he murmured. 'Lost! And this was the decisive
battle of the war! If I had been able to order my cavalry to charge,
the enemy's left wing would have been cut from their main body. But
for you,' he continued, fixing his eyes upon Almia with a look of
unutterable sadness, 'I should have done it. You have caused me to lose
this battle.'
"Almia drew herself up, her heart swelling with emotion. This was the
proudest moment of her life--prouder by far than she had ever expected
any moment of her existence to be. 'Yes,' she said; 'that is what I did.
And if this was the decisive battle of the war, then will follow peace;
blood will cease to flow, widows and orphans will cease to suffer, and
men who have been fighting one another like tigers without really
understanding why they sought one another's lives will again meet as
friends.'
"'There is a great deal of sense in what you say,' exclaimed the
Exceptional Pedestrian. 'I admit I am a soldier, but I do not approve of
war. The statistics of social aspects prove--'
"He was interrupted by the brown-haired soldier, who remarked: 'It would
be well for us to retire, for doubtless the enemy will soon occupy the
ridge.'
"The general took no notice; apparently he was lost in thought.
"'Excuse me, sir,' said the brown-haired man, 'but you must seek a place
of safety.'
"The general raised his head. 'Is there a road to the west?' he asked.
'I must take a roundabout way, and join my army, and share its fortunes,
whatever they may be.'
"'Yes, sir,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian; 'if you skirt these woods,
and follow the upward trend of the limestone- and quartz-beds, and then
keep along the crest of the mountain for about eight miles, you will
come to the village of Kirksville, where our retreating army will no
doubt halt for the night.'
"The general said no more. He turned his horse, whose bridle Almia had
now released, and, casting another look of sadness upon the erect form
of the bushwhacker nurse, he sped away.
"I will not say anything more of the general, except that after
following for half an hour the directions given to him by the
Exceptional Pedestrian, he rode at full speed into the ranks of the
enemy, and was obliged to surrender. No evil happened to him, however,
for the war was soon ended, and he was released.
"'Now,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian, who was in no way a traitor,
but only a person accustomed to making mistakes, 'the day is drawing to
a close, and we must hurry away.'
"No one objected, and the three soldiers accompanied Almia back over the
way she had taken when she walked to the battle-field. A little after
eight o'clock they arrived at the main road, and there Almia found her
cab waiting for her.
"'I will probably not see you again,' said the Exceptional Pedestrian,
shaking her very cordially by the hand; 'for as the war is now
practically over, and my regiment probably scattered, I shall go West.
There are many features of our social aspects out there which I wish to
study. But before I leave you, miss, I wish to thank you for having made
yourself so highly instrumental in bringing this terrible and inhuman
war to a close.'
"'Good-by,' said Almia. 'But I think it may be said that it was an
Albert biscuit which gave us peace. If that horse had not been used to
being fed by girls, my efforts might have come to nothing.'
"When the two younger soldiers bade good-by to Almia they did not say
much, but it seemed to her they felt a good deal. At any rate, she knew
she felt a good deal. She had known them but a little while, but they
had come into her life in such a strange way; for a time she had ruled
their destinies, and they had been so good to her! They had stood by
her, regardless of everything but her wishes; and then, they were both
so handsome, such gallant soldiers. She took their hands, she gazed into
their honest faces, a few words of farewell were spoken, and then they
helped her into the cab, the door was shut, and she drove away.
"As she turned and looked out of the little window in the back of the
cab she saw one of them gazing after her; but the dusk of the evening
had come on so rapidly she could not be certain which one of them it
was. At a turn in the road she sank into her seat. She was tired; she
was faint; and, instinctively thrusting her hand into her pocket, she
found there one Albert biscuit which had been left. She drew it out,
but when she looked at it, it seemed to her as though it would be a
sacrilege to eat it; its companions had done so much for humanity. But
she did eat it, and felt stronger.
"For the rest of the drive she sat and wondered and wondered which it
was who had looked back, the brown-haired soldier or the black-haired
one. Then she tried to think which she would like it to be, but she
could not make up her mind.
"Before parting with the soldiers Almia had exchanged cards with them,
and they had assured her they would let her know how fortune should
treat them. Day after day she watched and waited for the letter-carrier;
but a fortnight passed, and he brought her nothing--at least, nothing
she cared for.
"At last a letter came. It was from one of the soldiers; she knew that
by the address and its general appearance, but of course she did not
know the handwriting. She held it in her hand and gazed upon it, and her
heart beat fast as she asked herself the question, 'Which one has
written first?'
"Presently she opened it. It was from the brown-haired soldier. Her face
flushed and her heart said to her, 'This is right; this is what you
hoped for.' Then she read the letter, which was long. It told of many
things; and, among others, it informed Almia how grateful were the
writer's wife and two little girls for the kindness she had shown the
husband and father. She had dressed his wounds; she had saved him from
being made a prisoner. For the rest of their lives they would never
forget her.
"The letter dropped from Almia's hand; she had received a shock, and for
a time she could not recover from it. She sat still, looking out into
the nothingness of the distant sky. Then her face flushed again, and her
heart told her it had made a mistake. She was well pleased that this was
the one who had written that he was married.
"Hour after hour and day after day Almia became more and more convinced
that she was right. It was the black-haired soldier on whom her thoughts
were constantly fixed. And no wonder. In the first place, he was the
better soldier of the two. She hated war; but, if men must fight, it is
glorious to conquer, and she had seen his quick and practised blade lay
low his enemy. The thought of his power made her heart swell. Moreover,
he had stood by her in the moment of greatest peril; he it was who had
said to the Commander-in-Chief, armed and mounted though he was, that
he would attack him if her commands were not obeyed. Then, too, he was
a little taller than the other, and handsomer; his chest was broad, he
stood erect.
"Day after day she watched and waited, but no letter came. At last,
however, there was a ring at the bell, and the black-haired soldier was
announced. By a supreme effort Almia controlled herself; she bade her
heart be still, and she went down to meet him. She was dressed in white;
there were flowers in her hair and in her belt. She could not help
wondering what he would think of the difference between her and the girl
he had known as a bushwhacker nurse.
"When her eyes fell upon him and their hands met she was the one who had
the right to be the more amazed. She had thought him handsome before; he
was glorious now. Arrayed in fashionable, well-fitting clothes, wearing
only a mustache, and with his hair properly cut, he was a vision of
manly beauty. Instantly, without any volition on her part, her heart
went out to him; she knew that it belonged to him.
"For twenty minutes, perhaps a little longer, Almia sat with the man she
loved; and as she listened to him, saying but little herself, colder and
colder grew the heart she had given him. Soon she discovered that he
looked upon her as a young lady in whom he took an interest on account
of the adventures they had had together, but still as a chance
acquaintance. He had come to see her because he had happened to be in
the town in which she lived. When he went away she did not ask him to
come again, and it was plain that he did not expect such an invitation.
The few remarks he made about his future plans precluded the
supposition that they might meet again. He was pleasant, he was polite,
he was even kind; but when he departed he left her with a heart of
stone. There was now nothing in the world for which she cared to live.
She despised herself for such a feeling, but existence was a blank. She
had loved; perhaps, unwittingly, she had shown her love; and now by day
and by night she moaned and mourned that the bushwhacker nurse had ever
met the two brave soldiers with their glittering swords--that she had
not passed them by and gone out into the battle-field to be laid low by
some chance bullet."
For some little time the Daughter of the House had been speaking in a
voice which grew lower and lower, and now she stopped. There were tears
in her eyes, brought there by the story she herself was telling. John
Gayther dropped his pea-stick and leaned forward.
"Now miss," said he, "I really think your story is not quite right. You
must have forgotten something--a good many things. Think it over, and I
am sure you will agree with me that that is not the true ending."
She looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"I mean this," replied the gardener. "If you will put your mind to it,
and seriously consider the whole situation, I believe you will see, just
as well as I do, that it really turned out very differently from the way
you have just told it. That black-haired soldier did not go away in
twenty minutes. It must have been somebody else at some other time who
went away so soon. It would have been simply impossible for him to have
done it. The longer he sat and looked at Miss Almia, the more he gazed
into her beautiful eyes, the more fervently he must have thought that if
it depended upon him he would never leave her, never, never again. And
she, as she gazed into his handsome features, thrilling with the emotion
he could not hide, must have known what was passing in his heart. It did
not even need the words he soon spoke to make her understand she was the
one thing in the world he loved, and that, in spite of sickness and
obstacles of all sorts, he had come that day to tell her so. And when
they had sat together for hours, and at last he was obliged to go, and
they stood together, his impassioned eyes looking down into her orbs of
heavenly blue, you know what must have happened, miss, now, don't you,
really? And isn't this the true, true end of the story?"
The eyes of the Daughter of the House were sparkling; a little flush had
come upon her cheeks, and a smile upon her lips.
"I do really believe that is the true ending, John," said she; "but how
did you ever come to know so much about such things?"
"I can't tell you that, miss," said the gardener; "but sometimes I
notice things I cannot see, as when I look upon a flower bud not yet
open and know exactly what is inside of it."
With the smile still on her lips and the flush still on her cheeks, the
Daughter of the House walked away through the garden. She had determined
to make her story end sadly, but John Gayther had known her heart better
than she knew it herself.
THIS STORY IS TOLD BY
JOHN GAYTHER
AND IS CALLED
THE LADY IN THE BOX
III
THE LADY IN THE BOX
John Gayther was busy putting the finishing touches to a bed in which he
intended to sow his latest planting of bush-beans, or string-beans, or
snaps, as they are called in different parts of the country. These were
very choice seeds which had been sent to him by a friend abroad, and,
consequently, John wanted to get them into the ground as soon as
possible. But when he saw entering the garden not only the Daughter of
the House but also her mother, the Mistress of the House, a sudden
conviction shot through him that there would be no beans planted that
morning.
The elder of these two ladies was not very elderly, and she was
handsomer than her daughter. She was pleasant to look upon and pleasant
to talk to, but she had a mind of her own; John Gayther had found that
out long before. She was very fond of flowers, and there were many beds
of them which were planted and treated according to her directions and
fancies. These beds did not, in fact, form part of the gardener's
garden; they belonged to her, and nobody else had anything to say about
them. Many things grew there which were not often found in gardens:
weeds, for instance, from foreign countries, and some from near-by
regions, which the Mistress of the House thought might be made to grow
into comely blossoms if they were given the chance. Here she picked and
planted, and put in and pulled out, according to her own will; and her
pulling out was often done after a fashion which would have discouraged
any other gardener but John Gayther, who had long since learned that
the Mistress of the House knew what she wanted, and that it would be
entirely useless for him to trouble himself about her methods.
The gardener was not altogether happy when he saw these two ladies
coming toward him. He felt sure that they were coming for a story, for
when the elder lady came to the garden it was not her habit to bring
her daughter with her; and neither of them was likely, on ordinary
occasions, to walk along in a straightforward way, loitering neither
here nor there. Their manner and their pace denoted a purpose.