It was just as Tony had said it would be: the newspapers next day
repeated his story. Very few clear details were given. The articles with
their spread-eagle headlines concerned themselves more--for a
wonder--with effect than cause. They told at length and dramatically how
El Paso had been aroused in the dead of night by bomblike explosions
which, many had taken for granted, came from the guns on the hill,
repelling or revenging a raid from the other side. They told how the
public had behaved, and described the relief felt when it had been
definitely learned on good authority that the alarm was due to an
accident with some ammunition. But about the accident itself there was
what struck me as a singular reticence, considering the wild conjectures
newspapers did not hesitate to print on other subjects. Their _pièce de
résistance_ was the magnificent courage and presence of mind displayed
by Major Sidney Vandyke of the --th Artillery, whose battery had been
concerned in the incident.
I sent for all the El Paso papers, which were brought to me before I was
up, very early in the morning; and I sat in bed studying, in one after
the other of them, the version of last night's strange affair. Somehow,
the general praise of Sidney Vandyke's exploit annoyed me intensely, as
one is annoyed when an undeserving person is ignorantly lauded to the
skies. I know that on the face of things I had no right to say that he
was "undeserving," in this case; but that instinctive rebellion in me
against Tony's story last night cried out against it now. "There's
something queer under it all," I kept telling myself. "I must find out
what it is, and I _must_ know about Eagle."
Concerning Captain March, the papers had very little to say. They
understood that he had been on the spot when the explosion had occurred,
and that he had received slight injuries which would prevent him from
carrying on his military duties for some time to come. All their
attention was bestowed upon Major Vandyke, who had made himself the hero
of what was called "El Paso's Big Night." Owing to the indisposition of
the colonel, who had been struck down in the morning by a touch of the
sun, Major Vandyke was temporarily in command. His private automobile,
which had followed him from Alvarado to El Paso, had brought him from
new Fort Bliss to old Fort Bliss on official business: and he was on his
way back when, hearing sounds which resembled gunfire, he had stopped
his chauffeur on the instant, and dashed on fast up the artillery hill,
near which he happened to be. Fearing that the Mexicans--already
restless, owing to the attitude of the United States at Vera Cruz and
other places, and to the arrival of reinforcements along the Rio
Grande--might misunderstand, and work some mad, irreparable mischief,
Major Vandyke and his orderly had made a dash across the river. In spite
of the white flag used to protect the car and its occupants, the
sentinels on guard upon the Mexican side had fired at the sight of men
in uniform, and the orderly had been shot. Otherwise, the errand so
bravely undertaken had been crowned with success. The Mexicans, thinking
they had been fired at, were about to discharge their own field guns,
placed in a position of offence, in answer to the menace of the United
States. Had Major Vandyke been five minutes later with his diplomatic
intervention the word would have been given to fire, and one or more of
El Paso's finest buildings might have been destroyed, perhaps with loss
of life terrible to think of even now when the danger was past.
The next thing I did, having absorbed all the news I could get from the
papers, was to write a letter to Eagle. I told him that I heard he had
been hurt, and begged him to send me a line--or a word if he couldn't
write--to say how he really was. I inquired if he were in hospital, and
if it would be possible for me to see him. When I had finished, I rang
and asked for a trustworthy messenger. By and by, a servant of the hotel
arrived to do my errand, and I told him as clearly as I could what I
wanted. He must go to the big camp near Fort Bliss and inquire for
Captain March. I couldn't say whether the officer would be in his own
tent or elsewhere, but, anyhow, he must be found. If he were too ill to
answer even by word of mouth, the messenger mustn't come back until at
least he had learned something about Captain March's condition.
"I'll pay you very well," I said, trying to give the effect of a budding
female millionaire.
As soon as the man had gone, I bathed and dressed quickly, in order to
be ready if he brought back word that I might be allowed to see Eagle. I
didn't care whether I had breakfast or not; but time dragged on, and
nothing happened. For the sake of making dull moments pass, I rang for
coffee and a roll. It was early still, and Mrs. Dalziel and Milly were
doubtless trying to make up for their disturbed night by taking an extra
rest.
The tray appeared, and I ate and drank what the choking in my throat
would let me swallow, but there was no sign yet of the messenger. I
calculated how long it ought to take him to reach the camp on the
bicycle he had mentioned; how long to do the errand; how long to return;
and still there was nearly an hour unaccounted for. I was so restless
and miserable that I could have shrieked. I walked up and down the
little white-and-green room as if it were a cage, but soon all my
strength had gone from me. I sat on the window seat, staring out as I
had stared in the night, hoping now to catch sight of a man on a
bicycle.
At last, when I had begun to feel shut in, and only half alive, like the
Lady of Shalott, as though nothing could ever happen in my life again, I
jumped up at the sound of a knock on the door. It was the messenger. My
heart bounded when he took from his pocket a letter, but only to fall at
seeing a hotel envelope with my own handwriting on it.
"I'm sorry, miss," the man said, "but I couldn't get to Captain March. I
went everywhere and tried asking a lot of folks, but couldn't find out
nothing. They wouldn't let me into the camp, even, much less to the
gentleman's tent, so I can't tell you whether he's there or not. I did
my best, but the army's different from civil life. When they say 'no'
they mean 'no' and there ain't no goin' around it, or they prods you
with one of them bayonets."
"Surely you haven't come back without any news?" I cried. "You must have
heard _something_!"
"Not a thing at the camp, except what I've just told you, miss," the
messenger persisted. "I hung around, and whenever I seen some chap going
in, if I could get him to speak I asked questions till they begun to
take me for one of them newspaper guys. It was only when I seen the
stunt was no good I chucked it and come back with your letter. There's
just one thing I did hear, but not in camp. 'Twas outside the hotel, as
I stopped my wheel. I met an old soldier from the Fort I'd been
acquainted with a good long time--fact is, he's engaged to my sister. I
asked him if he'd heard about Captain March being wounded. And he
said--only I don't know as I ought to tell you what he said----"
"Tell me--every word," I panted.
"Well, then, if it's _every_ word you want, miss, he said it was all
damn nonsense about March being wounded, that something big was up, and
he's under arrest."
Under arrest! The words struck like bullets. Just for a second
everything swam before my eyes, and I was afraid that I was going to do
the most idiotic thing a woman can do--faint. You see, I had had no
sleep and wasn't quite at my best. But I pulled myself together, and in
my ears my voice sounded only a little sharp, as I asked the messenger
if his soldier friend had given him any further information.
"Not he! Shut up tight as a clam," was the answer. "I don't believe he
knowed anything else."
There was nothing more to be got from that quarter, so I paid the man
and let him go. Then I tried to think how I could hope to probe to the
bottom of the mystery, since mystery there certainly was. It seemed to
me that, since I wasn't able to reach Eagle by letter, my one chance lay
in Tony. His manner, and the admissions he had inadvertently dropped
last night, had told me that he had some knowledge of the truth, which
was to be hidden from the public. He had refused to be pumped, and I
respected him for his refusal; but I wasn't the public. Whatever the
secret might be, I would keep it. All I wanted to do was to help Captain
March if he could be helped; for I was sure all through to my soul that,
if he had been arrested, it was through some terrible mistake or cruel
injustice. It was wicked of me, perhaps, deliberately to make a tool of
poor Tony's love for me, but I tried to justify myself in deciding to do
so by saying that no harm could come to him through it, or evil to any
one.
"I'll wheedle the truth out of Tony," I thought again.
I dared not write and beg him to come and see me, for after our parting
last night he would suspect what I wanted and have time to steel himself
against me before we met. Nor could I go to the camp and try to find him
there, for I--a young girl--wouldn't be admitted alone even if I were
desperate enough to think of attempting such a wild adventure. If I
persuaded Mrs. Dalziel to take me, and we had the luck to see Tony, I
shouldn't have a moment with him alone, whereas the process of
"wheedling" might take many minutes.
The only thing to do was to wait, and that was the hardest task ever
given me. I shall not forget that day even if I live to be an old woman;
and looking back on it now over the months which have passed
since--months which seem longer than all the rest of my life put
together--I believe that my very character took on some change in those
hours, as metal is changed if you throw it on to the fire. I felt for
the first time that I was a woman, with all the childishness burnt out
of me; and I was glad, for I might have to do battle with those who were
older and wiser than I.
Mrs. Dalziel and Milly didn't appear till noon; but meanwhile I went
down and talked to a great many people in the hotel, people whom I
didn't know. After the excitement of the night, everybody chattered and
exchanged impressions with everybody else, without stopping to think or
care whether they had been introduced to each other. A few of the men
had a vague idea that something was being "hushed up," but none could
guess what it was, and nobody knew anything about Captain March.
Naturally I didn't tell what I had been told: that he was under arrest.
I trusted with all my heart that no one else had heard, or would hear,
the story. And I prayed that it might not be true. To Milly I would not
speak of him at all; for though she had apologized for yesterday, and
"made friends" with me again, I knew that there was a cruel streak in
her which would rejoice revengefully now, in any trouble that fell on
Eagle. She would feel that it was a direct punishment sent by Fate for
his indifference to her, and the way in which (for her own good) she had
forced him to show it.
We had been engaged for a short motor run with Tony in the afternoon,
but I was more disappointed than surprised when he sent a hurried note
to his mother saying that there was so much business to do he couldn't
get off. He might not even be able to dine. We were not to wait, but he
would turn up in time for dinner at seven-thirty if he could. In any
case, he would come in for a while later.
I had an evening dress Di had given me after she had tired of it, which
I had altered for myself, and Tony particularly liked it. I put it on
for dinner that night. Tony did manage to come, bearing an
offering--flowers for all three of us. I saw that he noticed the frock,
and with a little meaning smile at him, I tucked one of his roses down
into the neck. He flushed up at that, poor boy, all over his nice
Billiken face, and I felt like every cat in Christendom rolled into one.
But it was the first move in my game. I hoped that after so much
encouragement, he would make some excuse after dinner to get me to
himself.
Scarcely a word was said during the meal concerning Captain March. Mrs.
Dalziel inquired about him; Tony with his mouth full answered
indistinctly and hurriedly that he was "getting along all right"--as
well as anybody could expect; and Milly viperishly turned the subject to
Major Vandyke's exploit.
"He'll be a greater popular hero now than Captain March ever was," she
remarked with an elaborately impersonal air. "The first thing we know,
Peggy, we shall hear that Lady Di is engaged to him; don't you think?
She adores heroes. She once told me so."
"What a romance that would be!" beamed nice Mrs. Dalziel, who never saw
under the surface of anything. But I was grateful to her for breaking
in, and saving me the necessity of an answer to Milly's questions. If I
had replied truthfully, I should have had to say that it was exactly
what I _did_ think. Whatever the secret of the night might turn out to
be, I felt sure that Sidney Vandyke had made a desperate bid to win
Diana away from Eagle March. And with pangs of sharp remorse I
remembered those angry words of mine which had perhaps spurred him to
the effort.
Neither Mrs. Dalziel nor Milly appeared to have any suspicions that the
origin of the night alarm was not precisely what the newspapers
reported; that simplified things for Tony, as far as they were
concerned; and I was careful not to fling at him a single embarrassing
question. As dinner went on he lost the worried look he had brought with
him, a look that was a misfit for his merry personality. He glanced
often with a rather pathetic wistfulness at me, which I read very easily
and shamefacedly; and at last he broke out with information concerning a
torchlight procession that would set forth from one of the parks of El
Paso. Of course I knew what this remark was leading up to! He'd heard
people say, he went on, that there was going to be quite a good
impromptu show, celebrating the end of the "scare"; for it was generally
felt that Major Vandyke's diplomatic dash had cleared the air of danger;
and if there had ever been any real peril it was past now, once and for
all. Would we like to go out and see the sight?
Promptly Milly answered for her mother and herself. They would not like
to go out and see the sight. If there was anything worth the trouble of
looking at, probably it could be seen from the hotel windows.
"But what about _you_, Lady Peggy?" Tony asked.
"I'd love to go with you," I answered.
I put on a long cloak, the one I had worn to see "our" battery off at
Fort Alvarado railway station, and Tony and I sallied forth together. It
was not till we were safely in the street that he told me we were early
for the procession. "Never mind," said I. "It's lovely to be out in the
blue night. We'll just stroll through quiet streets, where there won't
be a crowd to bother us, until it's time to go and gaze at the torches."
"There's a nice little sort of park," he suggested, "not too far away.
How would you like to walk there?"
I said I would like it, and as our "little sort of" park wasn't the park
whence the procession would start, we had it practically to ourselves.
We found an empty seat and sat down side by side like a Tommy Atkins and
his "girl" in Kensington Gardens.
The first thing that Tony did when we were anchored together there was
to propose again, after an apology. I let him get it over, and then
played the next pawn in my game.