THE GIRL WITH THE HEART
Captain Stevenson left us soon after dinner, he being one of the
officers' committee on preparations for the ball, so that I spent a
little time alone at his quarters, Orme and Major Williams having gone
over to the Officers' Club at the conclusion of their call. I was
aroused from the brown study into which I had fallen by the sound of a
loud voice at the rear of Number 16, and presently heard also Kitty's
summons for me to come. I found her undertaking to remove from the hands
of Annie, her ponderous black cook, a musket which the latter was
attempting to rest over the window sill of the kitchen.
"Thar he goes now, the brack rascal!" cried Annie, down whose sable
countenance large tears were coursing. "Lemme get one good shot at him.
I can shore hit him that clost."
"Be silent! Annie," commanded Kitty, "and give me this gun. If I hear of
your shooting at Benjie any more I'll certainly discharge you.
"You see," explained Kitty to me, "Annie used to be married to Benjie
Martin, who works for Colonel Meriwether, at the house just beyond the
trees there."
"I'se married to him _yit_," said Annie, between sobs. "Heap more'n that
taller-faced yaller girl he done taken up with now."
"I think myself," said Kitty, judicially, "that Benjie might at least
bow to his former wife when he passes by."
"That'd be all I _wanted_," said Annie; "but I kaint stand them horty
ways. Why, I mended the very shirt he's got on his back right now; and I
_bought_ them shoes fer him."
"Annie's _such_ a poor shot!" explained Kitty. "She has taken a pot-shot
at Benjie I don't know how many times, but she always misses. Colonel
Meriwether sent a file down to see what was going on, the first time,
but when I explained it was my cook, he said it was all right, and that
if she missed Benjie it harmed no one, and if she happened to kill him
it would be only what he deserved. Annie's the best cook in the Army,
and the Colonel knows it. Aren't you, Annie?"
"Ef I could only shoot as good as I ken cook," remarked Annie, "it would
be a powerful sight o' res' to my soul. I shorely will git that nigger
yet."
"Of course you will," said Kitty. "Just wait till to-morrow morning,
Annie, and when he starts around in the yard, you take a rest over the
window sill. You see," she resumed to me, "we try to do everything in
the world to keep our servants happy and comfortable, Mr. Cowles.
"But now, as to you, sir, it is time you were getting ready for the
serious business of the evening. Go into Matt's room, there, and Johnson
will bring you your disguise."
So finally I got into Captain Stevenson's uniform, which I did not
dislike, although the coat was a trifle tight across the back. At the
domino mask they fetched I hesitated, for anything like mummery of this
sort was always repugnant to me. Not to comply with the order of the
day, however, would now have made me seem rather churlish, so presently,
although with mental reservations, I placed myself in the hands of my
hostess, who joined me in full ball costume, mask and all.
"You may know me," said Kitty, "by the pink flowers on my gown. They're
printed on the silk, I suspect. When Matt and I are a major, we'll have
them hand embroidered; but a captain's pay day doesn't come half often
enough for real hand embroidery."
"I should know you anywhere, Mrs. Kitty," I said. "But now as to this
Ellen? How shall I know _her_?"
"You will not know her at all."
"Couldn't you tell me something of how she will look?"
"No, I've not the slightest idea. Ellen doesn't repeat herself. There'll
be a row of a dozen beauties, the most dangerous girls in all St. Louis.
You shall meet them all, and have your guess as to which is Ellen."
"And shall I never know, in all the world?"
"Never in all the world. But grieve not. To-night joy is to be
unconfined, and there is no to-morrow."
"And one may make mad love to any?"
"To any whom one madly loves, of course; not to twelve at once. But we
must go. See, isn't it fine?"
Indeed the scene on Parade was now gayer than ever. Laughter and chatter
came from the crowded galleries all about the square, whose houses
seemed literally full to overflowing. Music mingled with the sound of
merry voices, and forsooth now and again we heard the faint popping of
corks along Officers' Row. The Army entertained.
At once, from somewhere on Parade, there came the clear note of a bugle,
which seemed to draw the attention of all. We could see, ascending the
great flagstaff at the end of its halyard, the broad folds of the flag.
Following this was hoisted a hoop or rim of torches, which paused in
such position that the folds of the flag were well illuminated. A
moment of silence came at that, and then a clapping of hands from all
about the Parade as the banner floated out, and the voices of men, deep
throated, greeting the flag. Again the bands broke into the strains of
the national anthem; but immediately they swung into a rollicking
cavalry air. As they played, all four of the bands marched toward the
center of the Parade, and halted at the dancing pavilion, where the
lighter instruments selected for the orchestra took their places at the
head of the floor.
The throngs at the galleries began to lessen, and from every available
roof of the Post there poured out incredible numbers of gayly-dressed
ladies and men in uniform or evening garb, each one masked, and all
given over fully to the spirit of the hour.
"To-night," said Kitty to me, "one may be faithless, and be shriven by
the morning sun. Isn't it funny how these things go? Such a lot of fuss
is made in the world by ignoring the great fact that man is by nature
both gregarious and polygamous. Believe me, there is much in this
doctrine of the Mormons, out there in the West!"
"Yes, look at Benjie, for instance," I answered. "It is the spell of new
faces."
"You see a face on the street, in the church, passing you, to be gone
the next instant forever," she mused. "Once I did myself. I was mad to
follow the man. I saw him again, and was yet madder. I saw him yet
again, and made love to him madly, and then--"
"You married him," said I, knowing perfectly well the devotion of these
two.
"Yes," said Mrs. Kitty, sighing contentedly, "it was Matt, of course.
There's something in that 'Whom God hath joined together.' But it ought
to be God, and not man, that does the joining."
"Suppose we talk philosophy rather than dance."
"Not I! We are here to-night to be young. After all, Jack, you are
young, and so is--"
"Ellen?"
"Yes, and so is Ellen."
The floor now was beginning to fill with dancers. There moved before us
a kaleidoscope of gay colors, over which breathed the fragrance of soft
music. A subtle charm emanated from these surroundings. Music, the sight
and odor of sweet flowers, the sound of pleasant waters, the presence of
things beautiful--these have ever had their effect on me. So now I felt
come upon me a sort of soft content, and I was no longer moved to talk
philosophy.
Sighing, I said to myself that I was young. I turned to speak to my
hostess, but she was gone on business of her own. So there I stood for
half an hour, biting my thumb. I had as yet seen nothing of the
mysterious Ellen, although many a score of eyes, in license of the
carnival, had flashed through their masks at me, and many others as
their owners passed by in the dance or promenade near where I stood.
Presently I felt a tug at my sleeve.
"Come with me," whispered a voice.
It was Kitty. We passed to the opposite side of the dancing floor, and
halted at the front of a wide marquee, whose flaps were spread to cover
a long row of seats.
"Count them," whispered Kitty hoarsely. "There are twelve!"
And so indeed there were, twelve beautiful young girls, as one might
pronounce, even though all were masked with half-face dominos. Half of
them were dressed in white and half in black, and thus they alternated
down the row. Twelve hands handled divers fans. Twelve pairs of eyes
looked out, eyes merry, or challenging, or mysterious, one could not
tell. About these young belles gathered the densest throng of all the
crowd. Some gentlemen appeared to know certain of the beauties, but
these had hard work to keep their places, for continually others came,
and one after another was introduced in turn, all down the line, as
presently it was to be my fortune to be.
"Is she here, Mrs. Kitty?" I whispered.
"You shall guess. Come." And so, as occasion offered, I was put through
this ordeal, by no means an easy one. At each fair charmer, as I bowed,
I looked with what directness I dared, to see if I might penetrate the
mask and so foil Kitty in her amiable intentions. This occupation caused
me promptly to forget most of the names which I heard, and which I doubt
not were all fictitious. As we passed out at the foot of the row I
recalled that I had not heard the name of Ellen.
"Now then, which one is she?" I queried of my hostess.
"Silly, do you want me to put your hand in hers? You are now on your own
resources. Play the game." And the next moment she again was gone.
I had opportunity, without rudeness, the crowd so pressing in behind me,
to glance once more up the line. I saw, or thought I saw, just a chance
glance toward where I stood, near the foot of the Row of Mystery, as
they called it. I looked a second time, and then all doubt whatever
vanished.
If this girl in the black laces, with the gold comb in her hair, and the
gold-shot little shoes just showing at the edge of her gown, and the
red rose at her hair, held down by the comb--half hidden by the pile of
locks caught up by the ribbon of the mask--if this girl were not the
mysterious Ellen, then indeed must Ellen look well to her laurels, for
here, indeed, was a rival for her!
I began to edge through the ranks of young men who gathered there,
laughing, beseeching, imploring, claiming. The sparkle of the scene was
in my veins. The breath of the human herd assembled, sex and sex, each
challenging the other, gregarious, polygamous.
I did not walk; the music carried me before her. And so I bowed and
murmured, "I have waited hours for my hostess to present me to Miss
Ellen." (I mumbled the rest of some imaginary name, since I had heard
none.)
The girl pressed the tip of her fan against her teeth and looked at me
meditatively.
"And ours, of course, is _this_ dance," I went on.
"If I could only remember all the names--" she began hesitatingly.
"I was introduced as Jack C., of Virginia."
"Yes? And in what arm?"
"Cavalry," I replied promptly. "Do you not see the yellow?" I gestured
toward the facings. "You who belong to the Army ought to know."
"Why do you think I belong to the Army?" she asked, in a voice whose low
sweetness was enough to impel any man to catch the mask from her face
and throw it down the nearest well.
"You belong to the Army, and to Virginia," I said, "because you asked me
what is my arm of the service; and because your voice could come from
nowhere but Virginia. Now since I have come so far to see you and have
found you out so soon, why do you not confess that you are Miss Ellen?
Tell me your name, so that I may not be awkward!"
"We have no names to-night," she answered. "But I was just thinking;
there is no Jack C. in the _Gazette_ who comes from Virginia and who
wears a captain's straps. I do not know who you are."
"At least the game then is fair," said I, disappointed. "But I promise
you that some time I shall see you face to face, and without masks.
To-morrow--"
"Tut, tut!" she reproved. "There is no to-morrow!"
I looked down on her as I stood, and a certain madness of youth seized
hold upon me. I knew that when she rose she would be just tall enough;
that she would be round, full, perfect woman in every line of her
figure; that her hair would be some sort of dark brown in the daylight;
that her eyes would also be of some sort of darkness, I knew not what,
for I could not see them fully through the domino. I could see the hair
piled back from the nape of as lovely a neck as ever caught a kiss. I
could see at the edge of the mask that her ear was small and close to
the head; could see that her nose must be straight, and that it sprang
from the brow strongly, with no weak indentation. The sweep of a strong,
clean chin was not to be disguised, and at the edge of the mask I caught
now and then the gleam of white, even teeth, and the mocking smile of
red, strongly curved lips, hid by her fan at the very moment when I was
about to fix them in my memory, so that I might see them again and know.
I suspect she hid a smile, but her eyes looked up at me grandly and
darkly. Nineteen, perhaps twenty, I considered her age to be; gentle,
and yet strong, with character and yet with tenderness, I made estimate
that she must be; and that she had more brains than to be merely a lay
figure I held sure, because there was something, that indefinable
magnetism, what you like to call it, which is not to be denied, which
assured me that here indeed was a woman not lightly to accept, nor
lightly to be forgotten. Ah, now I was seized and swept on in a swift
madness. Still the music sang on.
"My hostess said it would be a lottery to-night in this Row of Mystery,"
I went on, "but I do not find it so."
"All life is lottery," she said in answer.
"And lotteries are lawful when one wins the capital prize. One stretches
out his hand in the dark. But some one must win. I win now. The game of
masks is a fine one. I am vastly pleased with it. Some day I shall see
you without any mask. Come. We must dance. I could talk better if we
were more alone."
As I live, she rose and put her hand upon my arm with no further
argument; why, I cannot say, perhaps because I had allowed no other man
to stand thus near her.
We stepped out upon the crowded floor. I was swept away by it all, by
the waltz, by the stars above, by the moon, by the breath of women and
the scent of their hair, and the perfume of roses, by the passion of
living, by youth, youth! Ah, God! ah, God!--I say to you, it was sweet.
Whatever life brings to us of age and sorrow, let us remember our youth,
and say it was worth the while. Had I never lived but that one night, it
had been worth while.
She danced as she stood, with the grace of a perfect young creature, and
the ease of a perfect culture as well. I was of no mind to look further.
If this was not Ellen, then there was no Ellen there for me!
Around and around we passed, borne on the limpid shining stream of the
waltz music, as melancholy as it was joyous; music that was young; for
youth is ever full of melancholy and wonder and mystery. We danced. Now
and again I saw her little feet peep out. I felt her weight rest light
against my arm. I caught the indescribable fragrance of her hair. A gem
in the gold comb now and then flashed out; and now and again I saw her
eyes half raised, less often now, as though the music made her dream.
But yet I could have sworn I saw a dimple in her cheek through the mask,
and a smile of mockery on her lips.
I have said that her gown was dark, black laces draping over a close
fitted under bodice; and there was no relief to this somberness
excepting that in the front of the bodice were many folds of lacy lawn,
falling in many sheer pleats, edge to edge, gathered at the waist by a
girdle confined by a simple buckle of gold. Now as I danced, myself
absorbed so fully that I sought little analysis of impressions so
pleasing, I became conscious dimly of a faint outline of some figure in
color, deep in these folds of lacy lawn, an evanescent spot or blur of
red, which, to my imagination, assumed the outline of a veritable heart,
as though indeed the girl's heart quite shone through! If this were a
trick I could not say, but for a long time I resisted it. Meantime, as
chance offered in the dance--to which she resigned herself utterly--I
went on with such foolish words as men employ.
"Ah, nonsense!" she flashed back at me at last. "Discover something new.
If men but knew how utterly transparent they are! I say that to-night we
girls are but spirits, to be forgot to-morrow. Do not teach us to forget
before to-morrow comes."
"I shall not forget," I insisted.
"Then so much the worse."
"I cannot."
"But you must."
"I will not. I shall not allow--"
"How obstinate a brute a man can be," she remonstrated.
"If you are not nice I shall go at once."
"I dreamed I saw a red heart," said I. "But that cannot have been, for I
see you have no heart."
"No," she laughed. "It was only a dream."
"To-night, then, we only dream."
She was silent at this. "I knew you from the very first," I reiterated.
"What, has Kitty talked?"
It was my turn to laugh. "Ah, ha!" I said. "I thought no names were to
be mentioned! At least, if Kitty has talked, I shall not betray her. But
I knew you directly, as the most beautiful girl in all the city. Kitty
said that much."
"Oh, thank thee, kind sir!"
"Then you knew I was a Quaker? Kitty has talked again? I had forgotten
it to-night, and indeed forgotten that Quakers do not dance. I said I
ought not to come here to-night, but now I see Fate said I must. I would
not have lived all my life otherwise. To-night I hardly know who I am."
"Officer and gentleman," she smiled.
The chance compliment came to me like a blow. I was not an officer. I
was masking, mumming, I, John Cowles, who had no right. Once more,
whither was my folly carrying me? Suddenly I felt saddened.
"I shall call you The Sorrowful Knight," chided my fair companion."
"Quite as well as any name, my very good friend."
"I am not your friend."
"No, and indeed, perhaps, never may be."
Her spirit caught the chill of this, and at once she motioned the edge
of the floor.
"Now I must go," she said. "There are very many to whom I am promised."
I looked at her and could very well believe the truth of that. Many
things revolved in my mind. I wondered whether if after all Kitty had
had her way; wondered if this was the mysterious Ellen, and if after all
she had also had her way! Ah, I had fallen easily!
"Sir Sorrowful," she said, "take me back." She extended a little hand
and a round arm, whose beauty I could fully catch. The long
mousquetaires of later days were then not known, but her hands stood
perfectly the trying test of white kids that ended short at the wrist.
Reluctantly I moved away with her from the merry throng upon the
pavilion floor. At the edge of the better lighted circle she paused for
a moment, standing straight and drawing a full, deep breath. If that
were coquetry it was perfect. I swear that now I caught the full outline
of a red, red heart upon her corsage!
"Mademoiselle," I said, as I left her, "you are Ellen, and you have a
heart! At half past ten I shall come again. Some day I shall take away
your mask and your heart."
"Oh, thank thee!" she mocked again.
At half past ten I had kept my word, and I stood once more at the Row of
Mystery. The chairs were vacant, for the blue coats had wrought havoc
there! A little apart sat a blonde beauty of petite figure, who talked
in a deep contralto voice, astonishing for one so slight, with a young
lieutenant who leaned close to her. I selected her for Tudie Devlin of
Kentucky. She whom I fancied to be the "Evans girl from up North," was
just promenading away with a young man in evening dress. A brunette whom
I imagined to be Sadie Galloway of the Ninth was leaning on the back of
a chair and conversing with a man whom I could not see, hidden in the
shade of a tent fold. I looked behind me and saw a row of disgruntled
gentlemen, nervously pacing up and down. At least there were others
disappointed!
I searched the dancing floor and presently wished I had not done so. I
saw her once more--dancing with a tall, slender man in uniform. At least
he offered no disguise to me. In my heart I resented seeing him wear the
blue of our government. And certainly it gave me some pang to which I
was not entitled, which I did not stop to analyze, some feeling of
wretchedness, to see this girl dancing with none less than Gordon Orme,
minister of the Gospel, captain of the English Army, and what other
inconsistent things I knew not!
"Buck up, Jack," I heard a voice at my side. "Did she run away from
you?"
I feigned ignorance to Kitty. "They are all alike," said I,
indifferently. "All dressed alike--"
"And I doubt not all acted alike."
"I saw but one," I admitted, "the one with a red heart on her corsage."
Kitty laughed a merry peal. "There were twelve red hearts," she said.
"All there, and all offered to any who might take them. Silly, silly!
Now, I wonder if indeed you did meet Ellen? Come, I'll introduce you to
a hundred more, the nicest girls you ever saw."
"Then it was Ellen?"
"How should I know? I did not see you. I was too busy flirting with my
husband--for after awhile I found that it was Matt, of course! It seems
some sort of fate that I never see a handsome man who doesn't turn out
to be Matt."
"I must have one more dance," I said.
"Then select some other partner. It is too late to find Ellen now, or to
get a word with her if we did. The last I saw of her she was simply
persecuted by Larry Belknap of the Ninth Dragoons--all the Army knows
that he's awfully gone over Ellen."
"But we'll find her somewhere--"
"No, Jack, you'd better banish Ellen, and all the rest. Take my advice
and run over home and go to bed. You forget you've the match on for
to-morrow; and I must say, not wanting to disturb you in the least, I
believe you're going to need all your nerve. There's Scotch on the
sideboard, but don't drink champagne."
The scene had lost interest to me. The lights had paled, the music was
less sweet.
Presently I strolled over to Number 16 and got Johnson to show me my
little room. But I did very little at the business of sleeping; and when
at last I slept I saw a long row of figures in alternate black and
white; and of these one wore a red rose and a gold comb with a jewel in
it, and her hair was very fragrant. I did not see Grace Sheraton in my
dreams. Clearly I reasoned it out to myself as I lay awake, that if I
had seen Ellen once, then indeed it were best for me I should never see
Ellen again!