"Everything goes away," said the Dryad: "goes away as the clouds
go, never to return."
--HANS ANDERSEN.
That was the last long talk they had together. A brief walk next
morning before eight o'clock; another--ah, how short--to the brow of
the hill where they had met that first day; and then Magnus pulled his
cap over his eyes and strode away to his hidden nook, and the mother
went quietly sobbing down the hill. Alas! how fast the minutes flew now
that had seemed so loitering when she came.
As for Magnus, he watched the ferryboat every foot of the way over;
waved his cap frantically to the cluster of dark spots that went up the
sloping path to the station; then listened for the roar of the coming
train with an intensity that made him start when he heard it. With
a great pang he saw the pliant black line wind out from between the
cloven rocks and swing along to the station, almost holding his breath
in the minute's hush that came next. Hardly a minute; then puffs of
black smoke curled up into the air, the engine gave its usual snort at
such trifles as love and life and parting, and the train glided on into
the tunnel, flew out across the bay, and past the Island; the trail of
smoke fainted and faded away on the sweet summer air, and Cadet Kindred
shook his fist at the whole thing.
What right had that black engine to carry his mother off before his
very eyes? And what business had he to be lingering there behind her?
If it could have been done suddenly and quietly, I believe Magnus
would have resigned on the spot, and taken the next train home.
But red tape has its use. What letters and papers and statements such
a step would involve; what answering of official questions; and Cadet
Charlemagne Kindred did not feel prepared to state publicly that
he, who had survived to be a yearling corporal, must now resign for
homesickness. A drum-call in the distance also lent its persuasions.
The usual is generally, after all, the easiest thing to do, so Magnus
put his cap in position, and set his face towards camp and duty. But
taking off the cap again, he first bowed very low towards the steadfast
old hills through whose cuts and chasms his mother had just vanished,
kissing his hand to her in mute farewell; then resolutely walked away.
There was a pleb drill that afternoon, and with the way one has of
being good by proxy, Mr. Kindred kept his little set of men to their
work most unflinchingly, with small allowance for mistakes, and none at
all for inattention. Such zeal bestowed upon himself would have wrought
wonders. To hear him, you would have thought a mathematical line the
only easy position, and any sort of twist or bend that might be ordered
merely a pleasing variety of the same. "Brace up"--the poor, distracted
fourth classmen felt sure he must have done it in his cradle.
Miss Dangleum came by and paused to look--and Magnus was sublimely
unconscious of her presence; the Kitten held out a box of bonbons--and
he went by at the double-quick. Then Miss Saucy joined the group, with
Miss Bessie Beguile, and finally, that young lady's mother came slowly
on the scene.
"What's the matter here?" said the panting chaperon. "How you girls
do run! What are you looking at? Who's fainted? These drills are
positively barbarous!"
"Oh, don't you just wish he _would_ faint?" cried the Kitten. "Such
fun! Then we'd all rush in with our smelling-bottles, while Mrs.
Beguile ran for water!"
"While I--ran--for water!" quoth Mrs. Beguile, with a thought of her
rather stout proportions.
"But you'd be the only one, you know, mamma," said Miss Bessie sweetly.
"Because _we_ couldn't invade the guard tents alone."
"Nor in company, either," said Miss Saucy. "Nobody's going to faint,
Mrs. Beguile, unless it's me, because we can't get Mr. Kindred to look
at us."
"My dear!" said Mrs. Beguile. "I am surprised! _Never_ show such
special interest. Why, you will turn the young man's head."
"Just what we're after," said the Kitten. "And what we'll do, too. I'll
_make_ him look at me--I vow I will!"
The words were spoken half aloud, but the young lady got not a glimpse
of the eyes in question. Corporal Kindred's words of command rang out
minus let or hinderance; and if the girls put themselves in the way, he
led his men straight on, and they had to get out of it.
"I don't mind," said Miss Saucy, after one of these raids. "It's fun.
And he can't _help_ seeing us!"
"It's ravishing to hear anything in such a voice," said Miss Beguile.
"If I were going to be shot, I should like to have him give the order."
"It wouldn't be exactly what you call going off the stage to slow
music," said Miss Saucy, as a sharp and imperative "Halt!" came from
the young corporal's lips. The girls refreshed themselves with a
prolonged titter, the weary plebs dropped down upon the grass. Magnus
walked slowly down the road.
"I wonder if one might venture to address his High Mightiness, in these
his moments of comparative leisure?" said Miss Dangleum. "They are so
pernickity about drills. Mr. Kindred!" (softly and experimentally).
Magnus turned within a yard of the young lady and paced back.
"Oh, Mr. Kindred! If there was a snake here, could you come and kill
it? Wouldn't a rattlesnake be against regulations?"
And now there was a smothered laugh among the plebs. But the corporal
turned and took his way past the ladies again, and gave no sign.
"Mr. Kindred!" (very pleadingly) while one pretty hand held out a box
of brown chocolates and another a red-cheeked peach. In apparently deep
abstraction Mr. Kindred once more paced down the road.
"I'll throw it at him! I vow I will," said Miss Saucy. "If I could
knock his cap off, I should die radiant."
And she did her best. But some puff of adverse wind, some swerve in the
fair hand, spoiled all; the corporal's cap maintained its position; the
peach fell harmlessly at his feet.
"Attention!"
The plebs started, and so did the girls.
"I'll go home after that," said Miss Saucy. "The only thought left to
make life bearable is, that he'll come back after drill and pick it
up." But he did not.
Parade followed drill, and supper came after parade; and then in the
cool evening light people began to gather for band concert. What
pleasure Magnus had had there with his mother, night after night! This
time he did not want to see anybody or hear anything. Yet the evening's
witchery kept him out of his tent, and the unearthly sweetness from
some of the brass instruments drew him, little by little, into the
group around the band. Pretty soon Rig touched him on the shoulder.
"Say, Kin, Miss Dangleum wants you."
"What for?"
"Wants to show you how she's done her back hair."
"Don't get off any grinds on me to-night," said Magnus, "I'm not in the
mood."
"What shall I tell her?"
"What you like!"
"All right. I'll go back and report that you are out of town, and have
left a bear to keep house."
Which apparently he did, to judge by the shout of laughter that went up.
"Oh, do bring him!" cried a pretty voice. "I do so dote upon bears. Oh,
I think they're dear! Which one is Mr. Kindred?"
"You'll know by his eyes, when he turns round," said Miss Saucy.
"But that's the only way I can ever tell cadets apart--by their eyes,"
said Miss Midget. "Is that the reason they order 'Eyes front' so
much?--so that the officers can know which one to report?"
Another laugh followed.
"You'd better believe old Towser would know, if they hadn't any eyes at
all," said Randolph, "or if he hadn't!"
"Well, he hasn't, much," said Miss Saucy.
"Stands to reason," said Rig, "because he's got 'em all over--diffused.
In the back of his head, and on his shoulder-straps, and the white
stripe down his trousers, and the point of his nose."
"That's awfully funny!" said Miss Beguile. "Must make it awfully lively
for all of you."
"Just does. The only enjoyment he has in life is skinning cadets. So
it's 'Skin 'em! Skin 'em!' all the day long. Too much shirt-collar at
breakfast, and too little coat above belt at drill."
"And too much hair," said Mr. Carr. "I declare, when Towser comes
rubbing up and down the back of my head, I feel as if I was a baby
getting washed and dressed."
The girls clapped their hands in applause.
"Such pretty hair, too," said the Kitten, "or would be, I'm sure, if
one could see it." Mr. Carr made a profound reverence.
"Thank you so much," he said. "Awfully good of you. Wish you'd give
Towser a hint."
"Wherever did the poor man get such a name?" said Miss Beguile.
"Simple and descriptive," said Mr. Carr.
"Look here, D. T.," said Rig, "I wouldn't be as funny as I could, not
every time, don't you know. You might get the blues for disrespect.
He's sure to be round."
"And why do you call _him_ 'D. T.'?" demanded another girl.
"Doubletimes it every day," said Rig. "Gets a late in the morning, and
a cold absence at night."
"But what _can_ we do to rouse Mr. Kindred from this awful
abstraction?" said Miss Dangleum.
"Let's give him homeopathic treatment," said the Kitten. "D. T.,
double-time it over to the band and bid them play 'Love Not.'"
"I'll go," said Rig. "He won't get there till the drum beats. 'Love
Not'--I never heard of such a tune in my life."
"You will--first time you make love to the wrong girl," said Miss
Saucy. "Now go!"
"They won't do it for him," said Carr; "they _can't_--unless the Com.
or the officer in charge says so. You'll have to go yourself. Towser's
in charge."
"Send the Kitten," said Miss Dangleum. "That will just fit. Here, Puss,
draw in your claws and stretch out your paws, and go get an order for
the band to play 'Love Not.'"
So the écru dress flitted away, and the others watched with deep
interest.
"He won't do it," said Randolph.
"Yes, he will," said Miss Dangleum. "Puss is a match for the whole
canine contingent."
And so it proved. The band finished the fantasia they had in hand, took
their short rest, and struck off into the old, time-worn air.
And now everybody stopped to listen; some because they remembered it so
long ago, and some because it was so old that it was new.
Magnus Kindred knew it well. The flood of new music had spread but
slowly over his own little home region, and this air had always been
a favourite with his mother. In the old childish days, before sorrows
came, he had many a time heard her sing it. And now, amid the sweet
rendering of the band, he seemed to hear her dear voice still, and the
old words kept sounding in his ears:
"Love not! Love not!
The thing you love may change."
"Never!" Magnus said to himself. Not one of those four beloved people
at home could ever swerve from him. What stuff those song makers did
write!
He followed the band through the variations and interlude. Then began
the simple air again; and the words would come:
"Love not! Love not!
The thing you love may die."
A great pang shot through the boy's heart. _Could_ such things happen
to him? How had his mother looked? Magnus turned away from the band and
hid himself in the dark recesses of his tent.