THE CROSS.
Never had Augusta looked so well as she did that night. She danced
quite beautifully, and was really a brilliant young mistress of the
ceremonies. Many were the admiring glances cast at her, and loud the
admiration she evoked. For the time being Augusta was unselfish. She
thought of the comfort and pleasure of her guests. She managed to make
the awkward ones feel at ease, and the shy ones feel at home; at the
same time she kept the too forward children in order—in short, she
was invaluable.
Uncle Peter was especially struck both by her conduct and her
appearance.
“She really is a fine girl,” he said to himself. “There is something
wonderfully taking about her to-night; and how good she is, and
self-forgetful! I shall have more pleasure than I had the least idea
of a few hours ago in presenting her with the Royal Cross.”
As these thoughts came to him, he observed that Augusta was standing
where the full draught of the open door blew upon her thin
evening-dress. She shivered, and sank down on the nearest chair.
Captain Richmond immediately went to her side.
“Augusta,” he said, “have you a dance to spare for me? You haven’t
given me one yet.”
“I can give you the present one,” she replied at once, “if you will
sit it out with me.”
“With pleasure! Where shall we go? You are in a fearful draught just
here, and you look positively cold.”
“I am shivering,” replied Augusta. “Let us go to the conservatory.”
They went there. The conservatory was too hot for many people on this
summer’s night, and was comparatively empty. Augusta sank down on a
seat.
“I will get you a wrap,” said the Captain. “You ought not to feel cold
on a night like this.”
“Oh, I am quite all right,” she answered. “Don’t leave me; let us sit
down and talk. You are very fond of Nancy, are you not?”
“Of course; we all are,” he replied.
“I should like to say——” stammered Augusta.
“What, my dear?”
She paused and looked full at her questioner.
“This,” she said: “you know I am not an especially nice girl, but I
can admire goodness when I see it in others. Now, no one was ever half
so good as Nancy; and even if appearances seem to have been against
her, she was far and away the best of us all.—Oh, what am I saying?
What utter nonsense am I talking? Will you take me back to the
ballroom, please? I would not miss the next waltz for anything.”
“I will take you back when you have explained your last words.”
“There is nothing to explain—nothing at all. I spoke quite at random.
Dear little Nancy! I am as fond of her as you are.”
“Listen, Augusta,” said the Captain. “I didn’t mean to confide in you,
but I will. You know of the little ceremony which is to take place
to-night when the dance is over. We are to go into the inner
drawing-room, and there it will be decided, from what I shall read
aloud out of the orderly-book, which of you four girls is to receive
the Royal Cross.”
“Of course; I know that,” answered Augusta.
“Yes; but listen. There is an entry in the orderly-book against
Nancy’s name which puts her out of the running.”
“Puts her out of the running!” whispered Augusta. Her very lips were
white.
Captain Richmond’s eyes seemed like gimlets piercing into her soul.
“There is a charge against Nancy which, made against any child, would
condemn her—condemn her so utterly that one could not think of her as
a winner of that great prize which means nobleness of conduct, valour,
and all the rest. Augusta, you will all know soon, but it does not
matter my telling you an hour or so before the others. Nancy
Esterleigh is charged with _cruelty_. Can you, Gussie, help me to
throw light upon, in her case, such an unnatural accusation?”
There was a wild beating in Augusta’s ears; her head ached so terribly
that she was almost giddy, and a cold chill ran down her back. She
turned aside and plucked a geranium blossom from a great flowering
bush near by.
“Can you?” said the Captain again.
“No. How is it possible? The accusation has astonished me.”
“There is also that curious thing which happened with regard to her
bird. Can you throw any light upon that?”
“No—no; a thousand times no. What do you take me for? Do you think I
would let little Nancy suffer _if_ I could help her?”
“Of course not,” said the Captain coldly. “I think the dance has come
to an end. May I take you back to the ballroom?”
For the rest of that evening Augusta was not still for a single
moment. When she was not dancing she was walking about. Her laugh
could be heard gay, almost shrill. Her cheeks wore pink with the flush
of fever, which those who saw her mistook for health. She was far and
away the most successful girl at the dance. Even Nancy, beautiful
little girl as she was, and lovely as she looked in the new frock, was
not to be compared with her.
But all good things, as well as bad things, come to an end, and
by-and-by the ball was over. The party broke up; the young folk put on
their wraps, said good-bye to their hosts, and left Fairleigh. The
last sound of the last carriage-wheel died away. The four girls, Miss
Roy, and Captain Richmond faced each other. It was on the stroke of
midnight.
“How tired you all look!” said Miss Roy. “Shall we defer the further
ceremony until to-morrow?”
“No,” said Captain Richmond; “this is the appointed day. Come at once,
all of you.”
The servants were rushing about, locking up and putting things in
order. Captain Richmond conducted his party to the front drawing-room,
and turned the key in the lock. The electric light made the room
bright as day. The windows looking on to the lawn were wide open. When
they all entered the room, Captain Richmond opened the drawer, the
lock of which had been injured by Augusta, and took the orderly-book
out. At the same moment he put his hand in his pocket and produced a
small morocco case, which he laid on the table.
“Now, my little soldiers,” he said, “the crucial moment of our
campaign has arrived. You have been under my command, and have also
been disciplined by my good ally, Sergeant Roy, for the last few
months; and, on the whole, I trust you feel better, morally and
physically, for the soldier’s life.”
“Oh yes, indeed!” cried Nora. “We like it awfully. I hope we are not
going to cease to be soldiers to-night, Uncle Pete.”
“Certainly not, Nora. In one sense you must always be soldiers, but
whether you remain in my battalion will depend a great deal on
yourselves. But now to business; you are tired, and we must not
linger. This book gives, in a condensed form, the history of your
lives from the moment you enlisted under my banner. Now then, soldiers
of the True Blue, we will see what it says about you.”
Here Captain Richmond opened the book. He looked quickly down the
pages which related to Nora’s life.
“An excellent report on the whole, Nora,” he said when he had
finished, “but conduct not immaculate—a few errors, dear, in the form
of untidy rooms, lost property, and forgotten duties. Nothing exactly
serious, but”——
The Captain’s “but” was emphatic. Nora turned from pink to white.
“I knew it,” she said to her sister. “I never, never expected”——
“Hush!” said Kitty, “Uncle Pete is speaking again.”
“Kitty, on the whole you have done better than Nora. Your industry has
been unparalleled, and, in short, I think you are deserving of a
prize. If you hadn’t been so inveterately careless, my little girl,
there might have been a chance of my giving you _the_ prize. But
see here, Kit—here, and here, and here.” The Captain laid his finger
against certain marks in Kitty’s record.
Kitty coloured and stepped back.
“I deserve them all,” she said.
“Well, that is something worth hearing,” he answered with heartiness,
“for when we know our faults, then is the time when we begin to mend
them.—Now then, Nancy.”
Nancy was standing by an open window. Her face looked serene and
quiet. She did not for a moment think that she would win the Royal
Cross; but, at the same time, she did not think there could be any
grave charge chronicled against her name.
“Nancy, I have something sad to say to you,” said the Captain, going
forward and taking her hand in his as he spoke. “Even still I think
there must be some explanation.”
“What—what,” cried Nancy—“what do you mean?”
“Don’t tremble so, Nancy. Listen. Your conduct has been
irreproachable, and your struggle to maintain a high level in morals
and intellect very great; but, alas! on one occasion you fell—a good
deep fall, Nancy—you fell from a high ladder.”
“I fell from a height! Oh, what do you mean?”
She looked wildly at Augusta, who glanced at Miss Roy. Miss Roy turned
aside; Augusta’s bold eyes were fixed upon her face.
“I have fallen from a height! When? Where? How?”
“Here,” said the Captain; “see for yourself. Every one need not know,
but you must know; read for yourself.”
Dizzily the little girl bent her head. For a moment she could see
nothing. Then she read, as though they were written in letters of
fire, the dreadful words, “Guilty of cruelty.”
She read this aloud and flung back her head.
“_That_ I have never been guilty of. It is a _lie_; it is a
black lie. I have never been cruel in all my life.”
The Captain sighed.
“It is in Aunt Jessie’s own handwriting. I am afraid there is no
refuge from this storm. You had better not add to”——
“Oh! don’t say any more; I cannot—cannot stand it,” said the child.
She was about to rush through the open window, when Augusta stepped
forward and held her hand.
“Be quiet,” she said—“for my sake.”
Again the extraordinary influence which Augusta had over the little
girl made itself felt. Nancy stood still, allowing Augusta to hold her
hand within her own hot clasp; she partly turned her back upon the
others.
“There is no bad mark against your name, Augusta,” said the Captain
after a pause, his voice slightly shaking. “All through these months
of training and discipline your conduct has been admirable. You have
been industrious; you have been courteous; you have been kind. You
have, I doubt not, been also unselfish; therefore I proclaim you the
happy possessor of the Royal Cross. Come here and let me fasten it
round your neck.”
Augusta came totteringly forward. All eyes were fixed upon her;
Nancy’s, no longer gentle, but fierce and defiant, were raised to
watch her face, but Augusta would not now look at Nancy.
The Royal Cross was made of deep-blue enamel, inlaid in rich silver.
It was in the shape of an Irish cross, and was very beautiful. On it
were engraved the words, _For valour in the fight_. The cross was
attached to a narrow silver chain. Captain Richmond slipped the chain
round Augusta’s throat, and the deep-blue cross shone on her bare
white neck.
Just then, before any one could speak, there came on the air the sound
of a tolling bell. It was distinctly audible. It tolled three times
and then stopped, three times again and then stopped, and then three
times once more.
“Some woman has died, poor thing!” said the Captain.
Then the solemn notes rang out again. They sounded sixteen times.
Augusta uttered a cry.
“It is Connie!” she said. “Oh, what shall I do?”
The next instant the wretched girl had fallen in a dead faint on the
floor.