The first darkening shadows of an August night crept over the lawns of
Oaklands, and settled about the turrets of the house like a mist.
Inside, in the music-room, a pale American officer was telling some
story--a story that kept his listeners silent and made the distant cry
of a hawk sound strangely eerie and loud. He had three auditors--an
elderly man, who had an unlit cigarette in his fingers; a woman, with
gray locks, who sat, motionless, with folded hands; and a young woman,
whose brown hair was like gold, and in whose deep-blue eyes there was a
mingled look of pain and love.
"We knew when dawn broke," went on the American, "that we were
outflanked, and we tried to get the guns away; but the Huns saw our
move, and came at us with bayonets. We formed a line in front of the
guns, Scots and Englishmen, and the few of our fellows who were left,
and we did our best to give the gunners a chance, but they were on us
too soon. Everything looked over, when we heard the cavalry coming.
God! how our men shouted as they saw the squadron--that is all there
were--bear down on the Germans! Their officer seemed to bear a charmed
life, for he thrust and cut like a demon, while his commands rang out
above the whole shock and crash of the fight. The Germans fell back,
and this officer wheeled about, shouting instructions for the guns and
rallying his men. For the first time I saw his face as he rode up to
me. It was your boy."
There was a deathly silence for a moment, unbroken by a sound from his
hearers, though a solitary tear fell slowly on the older woman's cheek.
"We contrived to get the guns started back, and we retreated to a
sunken road which gave us protection. It was on the way there that I
was shot in the knee, but managed to keep up, when a shell lit between
two guns and killed some of the horses. We had to leave them, and went
on; but a few minutes later we heard a shout. The Germans were surging
about the guns, and the little group of cavalry had turned and charged
right into the center of them. I was hit again, and dropped; but
Simpson, one of our officers from Colorado, led our men back to their
assistance, and they fought till only Simpson and eight others were
left. Then he fell dead beside the body of your lad who had led the
cavalry."
There was a long silence, broken finally by the voice of the older
woman. "I am glad that Douglas died bravely," she said, and her voice
was low and calm, "and I am proud that he lies in France beside a very
gallant American gentleman."
As if by mutual consent, every one rose, and the two women left the
room together.
The old nobleman stood by the fireplace and gazed at the undulating
lawns that showed from the windows in the deepening shroud of night.
"It was good of you to tell us that," he said; "it will make my wife's
sorrow more easy to bear." He walked slowly to a window and passed his
hand wearily over his brow. "Sometime," he went on gently, "I must show
you his room. We are keeping it just as it was."
Craighouse said nothing, but in his heart was a great understanding.
The first silver rays of the moon were dancing on the grass, when the
earl spoke again. "It is hard for my wife," he said; "but she will be
proud to know that she gave everything she had for--for England."