MORAL COURAGE
The Battery was wonderful, wonderful, and out of all whooping. The moon
was high up over the water, having made her debut sooner than Professor
Green had calculated. The tide was coming in, or rather rolling in, and
every wave seemed to rise up to catch a little kiss from the moon. The
palmettos were, as is their way, rustling and waving their leaves like
ladies of olden times in swishing silks using their fans as practiced
flirts. The live-oaks did very well as cavaliers bending gallantly to
catch the tender nothings of the coquettes. The Spanish moss on one
particularly twisted oak hung like a great beard from the chin of some
ancient, and as the slender palmetto swayed in the breeze and waved her
tresses provokingly near, the gray beard mingled with them for a moment.
"The old rip!" exclaimed Zebedee to me.
"Why, I was just thinking that! It does look just like an old man."
Mr. Tucker and I, as no doubt I have remarked before, often came out
with exactly the same thought almost as though we were able to read each
other's minds.
"Of course she should not have led him on if she did not want to be
kissed. She certainly came very near chucking him under the chin. A girl
can't expect a man to withstand temptation forever. Just because a man
is looked upon as a gray-bearded loon is no sign he feels like one."
The others had gone on ahead and were standing under the monument of
Sergeant Jasper, who was still patiently pointing to Fort Moultrie.
"Do you think it is a girl's fault always if a man kisses her?"
"Well, no, not exactly. I certainly don't think it is a girl's fault for
being kissable--but it seems to me her instinct might tell her when she
is getting too kissable and she might--wear a veil--or do something to
protect the poor man a little."
"Why should he not put on smoked glasses or look the other way? I can't
see that it is up to the poor palmetto."
"Perhaps you are right," he said, more soberly, it seemed to me, than
the conversation warranted. "I am going to Columbia tomorrow," rather
sullenly.
"Are you, really? Tweedles and I are going to miss you terribly. We do
wish you didn't have to go."
"'We'! Can't you ever say I? Do you have to lump yourself with Dum and
Dee about everything?"
What a funny, cross Zebedee this was! I looked at him in amazement. He
was quite wild-eyed, with a look on his face that was new to me. If I
had not known that he was a teetotaler, or almost one, I might have
thought he had been drinking. I must have presented a startled
appearance, for in a moment he pulled himself together.
"Excuse me, Page! I think the moon must have gone to my head. The full
moon makes me act queer sometimes, anyhow. You have heard of persons
like that, haven't you? That's where lunatic got its name--Luna, the
moon, you know," he rattled on at a most astonishing pace. "How old do
you reckon Mrs. Green is? She looks very young. Do you think Professor
Green is as old as I am?"
"Older, I should think; but then he is so--so--high-foreheaded it makes
him look older."
"He was her teacher at college, so they tell me. She must have been
quite young when he first knew her."
"Yes, she was only sixteen when she entered Wellington, I believe."
"They seem very happy," with a deep sigh that made me feel so sorry for
him.
"He must be thinking of his little Virginia," I thought. She had lived
only a year after her marriage and had been only nineteen when she
died--he only a year or so older. "I suspect the moonlight reminds him
of her. I know he did not mean to pick me up so sharply, and I am just
not going to notice it."
Dee, who was biding her time hoping to get the crowd settled somewhere
so we could slip off to the custard-colored hotel, now called to us to
see the bust of William Gilmore Simms, and to tell her father about the
nice, aristocratic old policeman who had so enthralled us by reciting
the "Grape-Vine Swing" that morning.
Finally, with much maneuvering on her part, everyone was seated on some
benches looking out over the water, with a clump of palmettos protecting
them from the wind and at the same time hiding the road to the old house
on the corner. Professor Green and Zebedee had entered into an amicable
discussion of the political situation, and Mrs. Green was in the midst
of an anecdote about her friend and sister-in-law, Judy Kean, now Mrs.
Kent Brown, an anecdote told especially for Dum's benefit, since it was
of art and artists.
"Now's the time! Hurry!" whispered Dee.
In a moment we had slipped away and were sprinting along the walk to the
custard-colored house. It was not much of a run, about two city blocks,
I fancy, and we did it in an incredibly short time.
The old house looked very peaceful and still from without, but as we
entered the door we found that, as was its habit, a wind was imprisoned
in its walls and was whistling dolorously. The moonlight flooded the
hall and stairs, making it quite light. Dee clutched my hand, and we
went up those steps very quietly and quickly, through the bridal chamber
and on into the corridor beyond, on which the numbered doors opened.
No. 13 was open! We paused for a moment as we approached it. Hark!
Certainly there was someone in the room. It seemed to me as though I
weighed a million pounds and had only the strength of a kitten.
Fascinated, we crept closer, although I do not see how the kitten in me
lifted the great weight I felt myself to have. There was a dim light in
the room from a small kerosene lantern. Louis Gaillard was there,
standing tiptoe upon the pile of bricks. Was he trying to fit that awful
noose around his neck again? I felt like screaming as Dee had in the
morning, but no sound would come from my dry throat.
Louis' face, that could be seen in the light of the lantern, did not
look like the face of one who meant to make away with himself. There was
purpose in it, but it was the purpose of high resolve. Grasping the rope
as high up as he could with one hand, with the other he gave it a sharp
cut with a knife. Dee and I leaned against each other for support. The
rope was down, and now the thing for us to do was get out of that
building as fast as we could. Louis must never know we had been there.
We blessed the wind, which made such a noise rattling the shutters and
streamers of hanging wall paper that the boy remained absolutely
unconscious of our presence. He had begun to destroy the pile of bricks
as we crept away, taking them carefully back to the hearth where he had
found them.
We sailed down the steps of that old hotel as hungry boarders might have
done in days gone by "when they heard the dinner bell." We were out on
the sea-wall and racing back to our friends before Louis had finished
with the bricks, I am sure.
"Page," panted Dee, "don't you think Louis had lots of moral courage to
go back there where he had so nearly come to grief and take down that
rope and unpile those bricks?"
"Courage! I should say he had! I was nearly scared to death when I saw
him there, weren't you?"
"I have never gone through such a moment in my life. It was worse than
this morning, because this morning I did not know what to expect, while
tonight I almost knew what was coming--the worst. When I saw the lantern
and realized Louis was there, I could almost see him with the noose
around his neck!"
Dee shivered and drew her coat more closely around her. Her face looked
pale and pinched in the moonlight, while I was all in a glow from our
race along the sea-wall.
"Dee, I believe you are all in."
"Oh, I'm all right--just a bit cold."
"All right, much! You are having a chill this very minute--you are,
Dee--a nervous chill, and no wonder!"
We had been gone such a short time that no one seemed to have missed us.
Professor Green was still on the subject of initiative and referendum,
and Mrs. Green had just finished a thrilling tale of art students' life
in Paris when we sank on the bench beside them. Dee was shaking like an
aspen, although she still insisted there was nothing the matter.
"Zebedee, Dee must go home immediately. She is sick, I believe."
"Dee sick?" and he sprang to his feet. "What's the matter with you,
honey? Where do you feel sick? What hurts you?"
"Nothing! Oh, nothing!" and poor Dee's overwrought nerves snapped and
she went off into as nice a fit of hysterics as one could find outside
of a big boarding-school for girls.
"Dee, Dee, please tell me what is the matter!" begged her frantic
father.
"She can't talk, but I can! She must go home and be put to bed. She has
had too much excitement for one day."
"Where have you and she just been?" rather sternly, while Dee sobbed on
with occasional giggles, Mrs. Brown and Dum taking turns patting her.
"We have been back to the custard-colored house," I faltered.
"Oh, you little geese! What did you want there, please?"
"Dee could not sleep until she knew the rope was cut from the
chandelier. We went back to cut it down."
"Oh, I see. Did you cut it down?"
"No; Louis was there cutting it down when we got there. We didn't let
him see us. But at first when we saw him we thought--we
thought--maybe--he--he----" I could go no further. I could not voice our
apprehensions before the Greens, who knew nothing of our experience of
the morning.
"You poor babies! Why didn't you ask me to attend to it?"
"I wanted to, but Dee said you might think it was silly of us; and then
she did not want you to think that maybe Louis was not trustworthy. She
felt he needed all the friends he had--not to lose any."
"Loyal old Dee! Now, honey baby, you put your arm around me and I'll put
my arm around you, and we will get over to the King Street car and be
back to the hotel in a jiffy. The rest of you can walk, if you want to."
None of us wanted to, as we felt some uneasiness about Dee, although she
had calmed down to an occasional sob that might pass for a hiccough. We
piled on the trolley and were back at the hotel in short order.
The good breeding of the Greens was very marked during this little
mix-up. Never once by word or look did they show the slightest curiosity
as to what we were talking about. They were kind and courteous and
anxious to help Dee have her chill and get over the hysterics, but that
was all.
"Hadn't I better get a doctor for Dee?" poor Zebedee inquired, almost
distracted, as he always was when one of his girls had anything the
matter.
"I really do not think so," said Mrs. Green. "If you will let me take
Dee in charge, I am sure I can pull her through. Doctor McLean, at
Wellington, complains that I have lessened his practice by taking charge
of so many cases where a doctor is not really needed."
"You had better trust her, Tucker; she has healing in her wings."
(Professor Green and Zebedee had sealed their rapidly growing friendship
by calling each other Green and Tucker.) Tweedles always said that no
one ever called their father Mr. Tucker longer than twenty-four hours
unless he got to acting Mr. Tuckerish.
So Mrs. Green came to our room and had Dee in bed after a good hot bath
and a dose of aromatic spirits of ammonia. She brought her own hot-water
bag and put it to her feet, and then, tucking her in, gave her a
motherly kiss. As she was certainly not very much older than we were, I
might have said big-sisterly, but there is a difference, and that kiss
was motherly. I know it was because I got one, too, and it seemed to me
to be the female gender of the kind father gives to me, only on rare
occasions, however, as we are not a very kissy family.
"Now, dear, you must go to sleep and not dream even pleasant dreams.
Don't dream at all."
And our kind friend prepared to leave us.
"Well, I feel fine now--but--but--I can't go to sleep until I tell you
all about Louis and what happened today."
"But, my dear, you need not tell me. I think you must be quiet now. You
see, I told your father I would be the doctor, and I must not let you do
things to excite you. Talking about a trying experience would be the
worst thing in the world for you."
"But I have been thinking it all over and I feel that you and Professor
Green would be the ones of all others to take an interest in Louis and
advise what to do about him."
"All right--in the morning!"
"No! Tonight. I want you to talk it over with your husband tonight."
"If you feel that way about it, just shut your eyes and go to sleep; Dum
and I will do the telling without your assistance," I said; and Dee, who
was in the last stages of exhaustion, gave in and was asleep almost
before we got the light off.
Dum and I followed Mrs. Green to her room, where we told her the whole
frightful business. She was all interest and solicitude.
"The poor boy! I just know Edwin will think of something to do for him.
Although Edwin has taught girls always, he does understand boys
thoroughly. If we can get board with the Laurens ladies we will be quite
near Louis and his sister, and as we get to know them we can find out
how to help the boy without hurting his pride. I think all of you girls
have shown the 'mettle of the pasture' in the way you have grappled with
this very trying occasion."
"'Twas Dee! She thought of asking Louis to lunch and everything. Dee has
so much heart, I wonder she is not lop-sided," said Dum, who was as
upset as Zebedee over Dee's going to pieces. "You see, Dee and I have
lots of fusses, but it is almost always my fault, because I am so mean.
Dee is the most wonderfullest person in the world."
Mrs. Green smiled and hugged the enthusiastic Dum.
"Yes, I know what a sister can be. My sister, Mildred, is not my twin in
reality, but the Siamese twins cannot be closer than we are in spirit. I
hardly ever see her now, either, as she lives in the northwest and I am
at Wellington all winter and in Kentucky in the summer. Fortunately,
love can work by wireless at any distance, so absence does not affect
our affection for each other."
We told our lovely lady good night, and then it was she gave us the
selfsame kind of kiss she had given Dee.
"Doesn't it seem ridiculous that we have known her only since this
afternoon? I feel as though I had known her all my life. If I go to New
York to study at the League, she is going to have me meet her
sister-in-law, Mrs. Kent Brown. She is the one Miss Ball told us about
who got in such funny scrapes at college--you remember, Judy Kean, who
dyed her hair black?"
Dum and I were in the elevator, on our way downstairs to hunt up Zebedee
to tell him how Dee was faring. We found him in the lobby, still talking
to Professor Green. He was greatly relieved that Dee was herself again,
and I assured him that by morning she would be better than herself.
"I have been telling Green all about that poor Louis Gaillard," he
confessed. "I did not feel it to be a breach of confidence, after the
way Dee had flopped, letting the cat out of the bag half-way, anyhow;
besides, I want him to talk the matter over with his wife. I feel that
perhaps they will know how to help the boy."
"Molly will, I feel sure. She always sees some way to help."
Dum and I burst out laughing at Professor Green's words.
"That is just what she said about you," I laughed. "Dee wanted us to
tell her all about Louis so she could talk it over with you, thinking
there might be something you could suggest about helping him, and she
said: 'Edwin will think of something to do for him. He understands boys
thoroughly, if he does teach girls.'"
And so ended our first day in Charleston. What a day it had been! Rain
and sunshine, wind and moonlight, poetry and prose, fiction and fact! A
young life saved, and friendship born! Dee going off in hysterics, and
Dum and I so tired at last that we could hardly crawl back into the
elevator to be borne to our room!
We found Dee sleeping like a baby, and in five minutes we were sleeping
like two more babies. I wonder if Louis Gaillard slept.