THE BREATH OF THE WAR GOD
The girls proved as good as their word and five minutes later tumbled
breathlessly on deck, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with triumph.
"Where's that pound of Huyler's?" Lucile demanded, with an "I told you
so" look at Archie.
"I'll pay it as soon as we get to shore," he promised. "It's worth ten
boxes of candies to see you so soon," he added, gallantly, and, catching
Lucile about the waist, he fox-trotted up the deck to the accompaniment
of his own merry whistle.
"Oh, we can do that, too," said Phil, not to be outdone in anything, and
soon they were all at it with a swing and a go that made their fond
parents, who had come up in the meantime and were watching them, marvel.
"I can give you something better than that to dance to," said Mrs.
Applegate, when they had stopped from sheer lack of breath. "There is a
phonograph below, and if you boys don't mind the trouble, you might bring
it on deck and start it going. Then you can dance to your hearts'
content."
Phil gave a whoop of joy and nearly fell down the companionway in his
eagerness to find the machine, and the other two boys followed closely on
his heels.
"There seems to be no lack of enthusiasm," remarked Mrs. Applegate, as
the ladies made themselves comfortable in the big chairs placed against
the rail. "They can't seem to get tired. I never knew there was so much
bottled-up energy."
The boys soon returned with the phonograph and they were having the time
of their lives teaching each other the newest steps when they were
interrupted by the arrival of some people from the boat club, who had
been invited to meet them.
There were three girls and three boys somewhere about their own age and
four of the club's most popular members and their wives.
"There sure is going to be a crowd," said Archie, as the newcomers began
to pour over the side, all talking at once. "I wish we could have
finished that dance," he added, regretfully.
"Oh, there will be plenty more," said Lucile, smiling roguishly in a way
that made him wish all these intruders--for so he regarded them--were at
least as far away as the North Pole.
Soon the introductions were over and the girls found themselves liking
the gay young strangers immensely. Their English accent and the way they
said, "Bah Jove!" and "Beastly hot weather, what?" fascinated the
uninitiated girls, and they were soon imitating their new-found friends
with surprising success.
"You were dancing when we arrived, weren't you?" asked Anita Derby, a
dashing, fair-haired girl, who made almost as many enemies as friends
with a rather sharp, unbridled tongue. "I thought I heard a phonograph.
What was it you were playing?"
"'Good-bye, Girls,' from 'Chin Chin,'" said Lucile. "It's a splendid fox
trot."
"Never heard of it," said Anita. "Peculiar name--'Chin Chin'--what?"
Lucile was about to reply when Mr. Applegate interrupted.
"There's a stiff breeze on the way," he said, casting his weather eye
aloft. "And, from the looks of things, it's more than possible that we
may run into a storm somewhere up the river. However, we'll have to take
a chance on that."
"Oh, I wonder if we will," cried Lucile.
"Don't worry," said Gordon Ridgley, whose gaze had not wandered from
Lucile's bright face, with its dancing eyes and mischievous mouth, always
quirked in a smile and showing the dimples in the corners of it--he
wondered how many dimples she had, anyway--since he had come on board.
"If you will come with me forward," he added, "I'll show you the
prettiest view of the river there is. B' Jove, it's incomparable!"
Lucile consented rather hesitatingly. To tell the truth, she would much
rather have stayed where she was. Nevertheless, they went off around the
corner of the cabin, while Archie watched them with a gloomy frown on his
face.
"Nervy beggar!" he muttered.
Evelyn squeezed Jessie's hand and whispered, delightedly. "Did you see
the look Archie gave that 'bally Henglishman'? There will be a regular
duel in Hyde Park yet."
"Shouldn't wonder. I don't know how Lucy ever does it."
Meanwhile, Lucile's cavalier, Gordon Ridgley, had helped her carefully
along the deck and established her in a corner from which he had declared
the view "incomparable."
"This is rippin' luck," he cried, seizing a couple of handy chairs and
dragging them to the rail. "The bally things knew we were coming!"
Lucile laughed happily. She liked being taken care of; it made her think
of Jack. Meanwhile, the breeze, which had been steadily rising, had grown
perceptibly stronger.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" breathed Lucile, leaning forward and drinking in
the beautiful scene. "I've wanted a chance to sail in a real motor boat
all my life."
"Well, does it meet with your expectations?"
"It's beginning to. You know, I was crazy about the river yesterday--it
was all so different from anything I had ever seen and a thousand times
more interesting; but now I can see that I had only begun to appreciate
it."
"Oh, it's not such a bad old river," he said, letting his gaze wander out
over the water. "I suppose it appeals more to strangers than it does to
us natives. For instance, I would much rather see your Hudson River than
this."
"I suppose so," said Lucile, dreamily, and then added, almost as though
speaking to herself, "But the Hudson, though, of course, it is beautiful
and much larger than this, is in a new country, while the Thames--why,
the very name makes you think of those old times when there were noble
knights and beautiful ladies and jousts and all sorts of interesting
things. In those days the knights seemed to go around with a chip on
their shoulders all the time. If you happened to step on their foot or
any other little thing, they'd flare up, throw a glove or something in
your face--I should think it must have hurt sometimes, too--and command
you to joust for the honor of knight or lady----" She broke off with a
little laugh and added, demurely, "I don't know what you must think of
me--I'm not always like this, you know."
"I think you're----" he began, but just what he thought was never
expressed, for Mr. Payton and a friend, coming upon them unexpectedly,
uttered a surprised exclamation.
"Oh, here you are!" he said, amusement in the glance he gave them. "The
young folks are about to start the Victrola; don't you want to join
them?"
As if to give proof to his words, a merry one-step reached them from the
after deck and Lucile sprang to her feet, looking toward her escort
invitingly.
"We can't miss this," she said, with conviction.
Young Ridgely looked as if he could miss it with great pleasure, but he
followed her to the after deck, nevertheless.
"Will you go back again after the dance?" he pleaded, as they joined the
others. "We were having such a good talk."
"Perhaps," she half promised, with a tantalizing little laugh, and a
moment after was swept off into the dance by Archie, who had been
seriously considering organizing a search party.
"You were away a mighty long time," he reproached her. "What were you
doing all the time with that Ridgely guy?"
"I shouldn't call him a guy; he's a very nice fellow," said Lucile,
demurely. "Besides, we were only admiring the view."
"Huh!" grunted Archie, unconvinced. "I dare say he found the view very
interesting," he added, meaningly.
"Doubtless he did, since he wants to go back and look at it all over
again," she said, wickedly; then, to change the subject, "Doesn't Jessie
dance wonderfully? I never saw such an improvement in any one."
"Yes, she dances well, but she can't touch you; nobody can."
So the morning wore merrily on, the young folks stopping only long enough
to get their breath between dances. Then came the ever-welcome call to
lunch and they tumbled down to the roomy cabin, followed more sedately by
their elders, who had enjoyed the morning as much as their offspring,
though less riotously. It was a delicious luncheon and, with the added
flavor of romantic surroundings and congenial company, was altogether a
memorable affair.
When they reached the deck again, they were surprised to find that the
sun, which had been shining so brightly before, had gone under a cloud,
while the smooth surface of the water was stirred into ripples and eddies
by an ever-increasing wind.
"Looks mighty threatening," said Phil, anxiously. "I hope we don't have a
downpour."
The others viewed the sudden change with equal trepidation.
"Look at that bank of clouds over there, Lucile," said Archie, pointing
to a gigantic cloud formation, black and threatening, and moving swiftly
in their direction. "By the way, I take back all I said about your
prophecies this morning; it sure looks as if we were in for it now.
Wonder what Mr. Applegate thinks of it."
What Mr. Applegate thought of it proved to be certain confirmation of
their fears. He stood regarding the threatening sky-line with an anxious
frown on his forehead. A moment later a sudden gust of wind struck the
boat, heeling it so far to one side that they had to grip the rail and
each other to keep from falling, while the vivid flash of lightning,
followed by a low, ominous roll of thunder, made them draw closer
together.
The captain was roused to sudden action. Turning to his guests, he said,
"If you folks don't want to get wet, you had better make your way down
below. The storm is due to break any minute now."
Obediently, but reluctantly, they followed directions, descending into
the now almost twilight gloom of the cabin.
"Goodness! Whoever would have thought it would get dark so quickly?" said
Anita Derby, fearfully. "If there is one thing I detest it is a
thunderstorm."
"I think it's kind of exciting," said Lucile, snuggling into a corner of
the great leather-cushioned settee that ran around three sides of the
cabin and pushing aside a curtain that obstructed her view. "I've always
wanted to be on the water in a storm. Oh, look at that flash! Did you
ever see anything so vivid?" But her voice was drowned in the great crash
of thunder that followed it.
It struck the earth with terrific force; then retired, grumbling and
muttering like some tremendous monster robbed of its prey. Then the rain
began, pouring down in torrents, dashing itself upon the cabin roof and
windows with such violence it seemed solid wood and glass must give way
before it. It raged; it danced in frenzy; it hurled itself in stinging
dagger points upon the deck, while the wind shrieked a weirdly wild
accompaniment.
"It's a hurricane!" shouted Jessie above the wind, and some way in the
semi-darkness she found her way to Lucile's side, where Evelyn had come
before her. It was strange how the three friends clung together
instinctively.
"Oh, Lucy, do you suppose we could possibly be swamped?"
"Of course not," said Lucile, trying with difficulty to be reassuring, as
a sudden lurch of the boat sent her back against the cushions. "Didn't
you hear the captain say we were perfectly safe?"
"How's this for a storm, eh?" yelled Phil, balancing with difficulty. "If
it wasn't for Mother, I'd go on deck and watch."
"And get struck by lightning," said Lucile. "Oh-h!" as another flash rent
the darkness, followed by a terrific crash of thunder. "This can't last
long."
"Don't be alarmed, any one." It was Mr. Applegate's voice, and though
they couldn't locate him in the gloom, it was a comfort just to hear him
speak. "It's only a hard shower and an unusually strong wind. It will
blow itself out in ten minutes."
The captain was right, and in less time than he allowed the storm began
to abate; the flashes of lightning became less frequent, the thunder less
and less fierce, and the gloom began to lighten so they could distinguish
each other. Slowly and reluctantly the wind died away until only the
rolling of the boat remained to testify to its violence.
As soon as Mr. Applegate thought it wise to venture on deck the whole
party very willingly repaired there. The sky was still a dull, leaden
color, but around the spot where the sun was hiding behind the banked-up
clouds shone a misty radiance, sure prophecy of brightness to come.
They were still finding it rather hard to recover their former hilarious
spirits when, fifteen minutes later the sky opened as if by magic,
letting forth a burst of golden sunshine that flooded the river and
danced on the water so gladly and joyously that the girls and boys
shouted with delight.
"You wonderful old sun!" cried Lucile. "Why, it makes the world a
different place to live in!"
"It is all the difference between night and day," said Major Ridgely,
Gordon's father, a tall, well-built man with a mass of iron-gray hair
framing a strong-featured face--the face of a scholar and a gentleman.
"And it's like the difference," he continued, slowly and with emphasis,
"it's like the difference between peace and--war."
There was silence for a full moment while the young folks regarded him
with astonishment and interest, for they sensed a deeper meaning behind
his words.
"You mean," it was Mr. Payton that spoke, "you mean, Major, that you
think there is any immediate danger of--war?"
"War--is--imminent." The Major spoke slowly, pronouncing each word with
exaggerated distinctness. "I am no prophet, sir, but, unless I am very
much mistaken, the month of August will see part of this continent
plunged in the bloodiest war the world has ever known."
"War! War!" The word ran from one to the other, as the Major continued:
"It has been coming for years. For years the interests and ambitions of
at least two great nations--Germany and Russia--have been antagonistic.
For years the countries of Europe have been looking forward to the time
when the slender strand of national amity would be snapped like a thread
and the nations plunged into deadly conflict. And now, it seems to me,
the time is ripe!"
The young folks had been drinking in the conversation eagerly. War! Why,
they had read of war, of course, in their history books; but war, in
their time, in their generation, under their very noses, as it were! Why,
it was impossible!
But the Major was speaking again. "For years the sole aim and goal of the
German house of Hohenzollern has been the perfection to a marvelous
degree of her policy of militarism. Why, there is not a man in the whole
German Empire, who, at the command of his country, could not take his
place, a trained soldier, in the tremendous, perfected military machine
that is the German army."
"Why, Dad, does that mean that we may have to fight?" fairly shouted
Phil, who could not restrain himself a moment longer. "Now, right
away----"
"We won't son," said his father, kindly. "Thank Heaven, we will have the
broad Atlantic between us and the horrors of war!"
"War? Who talks of war?" cried little Mrs. Applegate, coming breezily up
to them from the depths, where she had probably been giving some very
important instructions for dinner. "I won't have the ugly word spoken on
board my ship. Why, everybody looks as if they had seen a ghost. What
have you been talking about?"
"Why, you heard, my dear," said her husband, kindly. "We were simply
discussing the possibility of----"
"Stop!" shrieked the little woman, clapping her hands to her ears. "I
won't have it! Somebody start the phonograph--do!"
Gordon laughingly obeyed and soon they were all dancing merrily as if the
great cloud of war were not hanging over all Europe. When the young folks
were tired of dancing they settled themselves comfortably on the deck,
talking, laughing, singing college songs, and otherwise enjoying
themselves.
It was not till evening, when they had bidden their hosts good-night,
after thanking them heartily for "the most glorious day they had ever
spent," that the topic of the afternoon was again referred to.
"Do you think there is really any possibility of war?" Lucile asked of
Archie, as they were nearing the hotel.
"There's no telling," he answered, seriously. "It looks rather like it
now. You and I needn't worry, anyhow; we won't get any of it. Unless," he
added, whimsically, "unless you should decide to go as a Red Cross nurse.
Then I might even desert the Red, White and Blue and volunteer my
services in the war."
And so they parted, with an almost imperceptible cloud shadowing their
gayety. Little did Archie think, when he declared so confidently that
"they wouldn't get any of it," that before the summer was over, they
would experience to some infinitesimal extent the cruel, relentless,
crushing power of that tremendous grinding machine men term--WAR!