CHAPTER I

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DIANE OF THE GREEN VAN

by

LEONA DALRYMPLE

Illustrations by Reginald Birch

Chicago

The Reilly & Britton Co.

Third printing

1914

"_In Arcadie, the Land of Hearte's Desire,

Lette us linger whiles with Luveres fond;

A sparklynge Comedie they playe--with Fire--

Unwyttynge Fate stands waytynge with hir Wande._"

Diane of the Green Van was awarded the $10,000.00 prize in a novel

contest in which over five hundred manuscripts were submitted.

[Frontispiece: "Excellency, as a gentleman who is not a coward, it

behooves you to explain!"]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I Of a Great White Bird Upon a Lake

II An Indoor Tempest

III A Whim

IV The Voice of the Open Country

V The Phantom that Rose from the Bottle

VI Baron Tregar

VII Themar

VIII After Sunset

IX In a Storm-Haunted Wood

X On the Ridge Road

XI In the Camp of the Gypsy Lady

XII A Bullet in Arcadia

XIII A Woodland Guest

XIV By the Backwater Pool

XV Jokai of Vienna

XVI The Young Man of the Sea

XVII In Which the Baron Pays

XVIII Nomads

XIX A Nomadic Minstrel

XX The Romance of Minstrelsy

XXI At the Gray of Dawn

XXII Sylvan Suitors

XXIII Letters

XXIV The Lonely Camper

XXV A December Snowstorm

XXVI An Accounting

XXVII The Song of the Pine-Wood Sparrow

XXVIII The Nomad of the Fire-Wheel

XXIX The Black Palmer

XXX The Unmasking

XXXI The Reckoning

XXXII Forest Friends

XXXIII By the Winding Creek

XXXIV The Moon Above the Marsh

XXXV The Wind of the Okeechobee

XXXVI Under the Live Oaks

XXXVII In the Glades

XXXVIII In Philip's Wigwam

XXXIX Under the Wild March Moon

XL The Victory

XLI In Mic-co's Lodge

XLII The Rain Upon the Wigwam

XLIII The Rival Campers

XLIV The Tale of a Candlestick

XLV The Gypsy Blood

XLVI In the Forest

XLVII "The Marshes of Glynn"

XLVIII On the Lake Shore

XLIX Mr. Dorrigan

L The Other Candlestick

LI In the Adirondacks

LII Extracts from the Letters of Norman Westfall

LIII By Mic-co's Pool

LIV On the Westfall Lake

ILLUSTRATIONS

"Excellency, as a gentleman who is not a coward it behooves you to

explain." . . . _Frontispiece_

Diane swung lightly up the forest path

White girl and Indian maid then clasped hands

"No, I may not take your hand."

CHAPTER I

OF A GREAT WHITE BIRD UPON A LAKE

Spring was stealing lightly over the Connecticut hills, a shy, tender

thing of delicate green winging its way with witch-rod over the wooded

ridges and the sylvan paths of Diane Westfall's farm. And with the

spring had come a great hammering by the sheepfold and the stables

where a smiling horde of metropolitan workmen, sheltered by night in

the rambling old farmhouse, built an ingenious house upon wheels and

flirted with the house-maids.

Radiantly the spring swept from delicate shyness into a bolder glow of

leaf and flower. Dogwood snowed along the ridges, Solomon's seal

flowered thickly in the bogs, and following the path to the lake one

morning with Rex, a favorite St. Bernard, at her heels, Diane felt with

a thrill that the summer itself had come in the night with a

wind-flutter of wild flower and the fluting of nesting birds.

The woodland was deliciously green and cool and alive with the piping

of robins. Over the lake which glimmered faintly through the trees

ahead came the whir and hum of a giant bird which skimmed the lake with

snowy wing and came to rest like a truant gull. Of the habits of this

extraordinary bird Rex, barking, frankly disapproved, but finding his

mistress's attention held unduly by a chirping, bright-winged caucus of

birds of inferior size and interest, he barked and galloped off ahead.

When presently Diane emerged from the lake path and halted on the

shore, he was greatly excited.

There was an aeroplane upon the water and in the aeroplane a tall young

man with considerable length of sinewy limb, lazily rolling a

cigarette. Diane unconsciously approved the clear bronze of his lean,

burned face and his eyes, blue, steady, calm as the waters of the lake

he rode.

The aviator met her astonished glance with one of laughing deference

even as she marveled at his genial air of staunch philosophy.

"I beg your pardon," stammered Diane, "but--but are you by any chance

waiting--to be rescued?"

"Why--I--I believe I am!" exclaimed the young man readily, apparently

greatly pleased at her common sense. "At your convenience, of course!"

"Are you--er--sinking or merely there?"

"Merely here!" nodded the young man with a charming smile of

reassurance. "This contraption is a--er--I--I think Dick calls it an

hydro-aeroplane. It has pontoons and things growing all over it for

duck stunts and if the water wasn't so infernally still, I'd be

floating and smoking and likely in time I'd make shore. That's a

delightful pastime for you now," he added with a lazy smile of the

utmost good humor, "to float and smoke on a summer day and grab at the

shore."

"I was under the impression," commented Diane critically, "that in an

hydro-aeroplane one could rise from the water like a bird. I've read

so recently."

"One can," smiled the shipwrecked philosopher readily, "provided his

motor isn't deaf and dumb and insanely indifferent to suggestion. When

it grows shy and silent, one swims eventually and drips home, unless a

dog barks and a rescuer emerges from the trees equipped with sympathy

and common sense. I've a mechanician back there," he added sociably.

"He--he's in a tree, I think. I--er--mislaid him in a very dangerous

air current."

"Are you aware," inquired the girl, biting her lip, "that you're

trespassing?"

"Lord, no!" exclaimed the aviator. "You don't mean it. Have you by

any chance a reputable rope anywhere about you?"

"No," said Diane maliciously, "I haven't. As a rule, I do go about

equipped with ropes and hooks and things to--rescue trespassing

hydroaviators, but--" she regarded him thoughtfully. "Do you like to

float about and smoke?"

The sun-browned skin of the young aviator reddened a trifle, but his

eyes laughed.

"I'm an incurable optimist," he lightly countered, "or I wouldn't have

tried to fly over a private lake in a borrowed aeroplane."

"I believe," said Diane disapprovingly, "that you were cutting giddy

circles over the water and dipping and skimming, weren't you?"

"I did cut a monkeyshine or two," admitted the young man. "I was

having a devil of a time until you--until the--er--catastrophe

occurred."

"And Miss Westfall, the owner," murmured Diane with sympathy, "is

addicted to firearms. Hadn't you heard? She _hunts_! The Westfalls

are all very erratic and quick-tempered. Didn't you know she was at

the farm?"

The young man looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Great guns, no!" he exclaimed. "I presumed she was safe in New

York. . . . And this is her lake and her water and her waves, when

there are any, and no matter how I engineer it, I've got to poach some

of her property. Some of it," he added conversationally, "is in my

shoe. Lord, I am in a pickle! Are you a guest of hers?"

"Yes," said Diane calmly.

"I'm staying over yonder on the hill there with Dick Sherrill," offered

the young man cordially. "They are opening their place with a party of

men, some crack amateur aviators--and myself. Do you know the

Sherrills?"

"Perhaps I do," said Diane discouragingly. "Why didn't you float about

and smoke on Mr. Sherrill's lake?" she added curiously. "It's ever so

much bigger than this."

"Circumstances," began the young man with dignity, and lighted another

cigarette. "My mechanician," he added volubly, after an uncomfortable

interval of silence, "is an exceedingly bold young man. He'll fly over

anything, even a cow. Isn't really mine either; he's borrowed, too.

Dick keeps a few extra mechanicians on hand, like extra cigars. It's

Dick's fault I'm out alone. He lent my mechanician to another chap and

nobody else would come with me."

"I thought," flashed Diane pointedly, "I thought your mechanician was

somewhere in a tree."

The aviator coughed and reddened uncomfortably.

"Doubtless he is," he said lamely. "He--he most always is. Do you

know, he spends a large part of his spare time in trees--and

swamps--and once, I believe, he was discovered in a chimney. I--I'd

like to tell you more about him," he went on affably. "Once--"

"Thank you," said Diane politely, "but you've really entertained me

more now than one could expect from a gentleman in your distressing

plight. Come, Rex." She turned back again at the hemlocks which

flanked the forest path. "I'll ask Miss Westfall to send some men,"

she added and halted.

For Diane had surprised a look of such keen regret in the young

aviator's face that they both colored hotly.

"Beastly luck!" stammered the young man lamely. "I _am_ disappointed.

I--I don't seem to have another match."

"Your cigarette is burning splendidly," hinted Diane coolly, "and

you've a match in your hand."

For a tense, magnetic instant the keen blue eyes flashed a curious

message of pleading and apology, then the aviator fell to whistling

softly, struck the match and finding no immediate function for it,

dropped it in the water.

"I don't in the least mind floating about," he stammered, his eyes

sparkling with silent laughter, "and possibly I'll make shore directly;

but Lord love us! don't send the sharp-shooteress--please! Better

abandon me to my fate."

Slim and straight as the silver birches by the water, Diane hurried

away up the lake-path.

"The young man," she flashed with a stamp of her foot, "is a very great

fool."

"Johnny," she said a little later to a little, bewhiskered man with

cheeks like hard red winter apples, "there's a sociable, happy-go-lucky

young man perched on an aeroplane in the middle of our lake. Better

take a rope and rescue him. I don't think he knows enough about

aeroplanes to be flying so promiscuously about the country."

Johnny Jutes collected a band of enthusiasts and departed.

"Nobody there, Miss Diane," reported young Allan Carmody upon

returning; "leastwise nobody that couldn't take care of himself. Only

a chap buzzin' almighty swift over the trees. Swooped down like a hawk

when he saw us an' waved his hand, laughin' fit to kill himself, an'

dropped Johnny a fiver an' gee! Miss Diane, but he could drive some!

Swift and cool-headed as a bird. He's whizzin' off like mad toward the

Sherrill place, with his motor a-hummin' an' a-purrin' like a cat.

Leanish, sunburnt chap with eyes that 'pear to be laughin' a lot."

Diane's eyes flashed resentfully and as she walked away to the house

her expression was distinctly thoughtful.

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