SANTA CRUZ 
 
 < 
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 Gift ol 
 
 Robert D. Farquhar , ^ 
 
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 m 
 
 SANTA CRUZ 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
"She, too, knew that this was the second 
 time their eyes had met" 
 
THE TWO 
 VANREVELS 
 
 BY 
 BOOTH TARKINGTON 
 
 GARDEN CITY NEW YORK 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1920 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1808, BY 
 
 DOUBLED AY. PAGE & COMPANY 
 
T? 
 
 TO 
 MY MOTHER 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. A CAT CAN Do MORE THAN LOOK AT 
 
 A KING . 3 
 
 II. SURVIVING EVILS OF THE REIGN OP 
 
 TERROR . 20 
 
 III. THE ROGUE'S GALLERY OF A FATHER 
 
 SHOULD BE EXHIBITED TO A DAUGH- 
 TER WITH PARTICULAR CARE . . 37 
 
 IV. "BUT SPARE YOUR COUNTRY'S FLAG" . 53 
 V. NERO NOT THE LAST VIOLINIST OF HIS 
 
 KIND . . . . , .... 71 
 VI. THE EVER UNPRACTICAL FEMININE . 85 
 
 VII. THE COMEDIAN 98 
 
 VIII. A TALE OF A POLITICAL DIFFERENCE . 115 
 
 IX. THE RULE OF THE REGENT . . .138 
 
 X. ECHOES OF A SERENADE . . . .152 
 
 XI. A VOICE IN A GARDEN . . . . . 170 
 
 XII. THE ROOM IN THE CUPOLA . . . 187 
 
 XIII. THE TOCSIN 205 
 
 XIV. THE FIRM OF GRAY AND VANREVEL . 220 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 XV. WHEN JUNE CAME 229 
 
 XVI. "THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG CHARMS*' 245 
 
 XVH. THE PRICE OF SILENCE 255 
 
 XVm. THE UNIFORM . . ..... 271 
 
 XIX. THE FLAG GOES MARCHING BY . . 288 
 
 XX. "GOOD-BY" . 306 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 A CAT CAN DO MORE THAN LOOK AT A KING 
 
 IT was long ago in the days when men sighed 
 when they fell in love; when people danced by 
 candle and lamp, and did dance, too, instead 
 of solemnly gliding about; in that mellow time so 
 long ago, when the young were romantic and summer 
 was roses and wine, old Carewe brought his lovely 
 daughter home from the convent to wreck the 
 hearts of the youth of Rouen. 
 
 That was not a far journey; only an afternoon's 
 drive through the woods and by the river, in an 
 April, long ago; Miss Betty's harp carefully strapped 
 behind the great lumbering carriage, her guitar on 
 the front seat, half-buried under a mound of bou- 
 quets and oddly shaped little bundles, farewell 
 gifts of her comrades and the good Sisters. In her 
 left hand she clutched a small lace handkerchief, 
 with which she now and then touched her eyes, 
 brimmed with the parting from Sister Cecilia, Sister 
 Mary Bazilede, the old stone steps and all the girls: 
 but for every time that she lifted the dainty ker- 
 
4 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 chief to brush away the edge of a tear, she took a 
 deep breath of the Western woodland air and smiled 
 at least twice; for the years of strict inclosure within 
 St. Mary's walls and still gardens were finished and 
 done with, and at last the many-colored world 
 flashed and danced in a mystery before her. This 
 mystery was brilliant to the convent-girl because it 
 contained men; she was eager to behold it. 
 
 They rumbled into town after sunset, in the fair 
 twilight, the dogs barking before them, and every- 
 one would have been surprised to know that Tom 
 Vanrevel, instead of Mr. Crailey Gray, was the 
 first to see her. By the merest accident, Tom was 
 strolling near the Care we place at the time; and 
 when the carriage swung into the gates, with rattle 
 and clink and clouds of dust at the finish, it was not 
 too soon lost behind the shrubbery and trees for 
 Tom to catch something more than a glimpse of a 
 gray skirt behind a mound of flowers, and of a 
 charming face with parted lips and dark eyes be- 
 neath the scuttle of an enormous bonnet. It hap- 
 pened perhaps it is more accurate to say that Tom 
 thought it happened that she was just clearing 
 away her veil when he turned to look. She blushed 
 suddenly, so much was not to be mistaken; and the 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 5 
 
 eyes that met his were remarkable for other reasons 
 than the sheer loveliness of them, in that, even in 
 the one flash of them he caught, they meant so many 
 things at one time. They were sparkling, yet mourn- 
 ful; and they were wistful, although undeniably 
 lively with the gayest comprehension of the re- 
 cipient of their glance, seeming to say, "Oh, it's 
 you, young man, is it!" And they were shy and 
 mysterious with youth, full of that wonder at the 
 world which has the appearance, sometimes, of wis- 
 dom gathered in the unknown out of which we 
 came. But, above all, these eyes were fully con- 
 scious of Tom Vanrevel. 
 
 Without realizing what he did, Mr. Vanrevel 
 stopped short. He had been swinging a walking- 
 stick, which, describing a brief arc, remained poised 
 half-way in its descent. There was only that one 
 glance between them; and the carriage disappeared, 
 leaving a scent of spring flowers in the air. 
 
 The young man was left standing on the wooden 
 pavement in the midst of a great loneliness, yet 
 enveloped in the afterglow, his soul roseate, his 
 being quavering, his expression, like his cane, in- 
 stantaneously arrested. With such promptitude and 
 finish was he disposed of, that, had Miss Carewe 
 
6 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 been aware of his name and the condition wrought 
 in him by the single stroke, she could have sought 
 only the terse Richard of England for a like execu- 
 tive ability, "Off with his head! So much for 
 Vanrevel !" 
 
 She had lifted a slender hand to the fluttering 
 veil, a hand in a white glove with a small lace 
 gauntlet at the wrist. This gesture was the final 
 divinity of the radiant vision which remained with 
 the dazed young man as he went down the street; 
 and it may have been three-quarters of an hour 
 later when the background of the picture became 
 vivid to him: a carefully dressed gentleman with 
 heavy brows and a handsome high nose, who sat 
 stiffly upright beside the girl, his very bright eyes 
 quite as conscious of the stricken pedestrian as were 
 hers, vastly different, however, in this: that they 
 glittered, nay, almost bristled, with hostility; while 
 every polished button of his blue coat seemed to 
 reflect their malignancy, and to dart little echoing 
 shafts of venom at Mr. Vanrevel. 
 
 Tom was dismayed by the acuteness of his per- 
 ception that a man who does not speak to you has 
 no right to have a daughter like the lady in the 
 carriage; and, the moment of this realization oc- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 7 
 
 curring as he sat making a poor pretence to eat 
 his evening meal at the "Rouen House," he dropped 
 his fork rattling upon his plate and leaned back, 
 staring at nothing, a proceeding of which his table- 
 mate, Mr. William Cummings, the editor of the 
 Rouen Journal, was too busy over his river bass to 
 take note. 
 
 "Have you heard what's new in town?" asked 
 Cummings presently, looking up. 
 
 "No," said Tom truthfully, for he had seen what 
 was new, but not heard it. 
 
 "Old Carewe's brought his daughter home. 
 Fanchon Bareaud was with her at St. Mary's until 
 last year; and Fanchon says she's not only a great 
 beauty but a great dear." 
 
 "Ah!" rejoined the other with masterly indif- 
 ference. "Dare say dare say." 
 
 "No wonder you're not interested," said Cum- 
 mings cheerfully, returning to the discussion of his 
 bass. "The old villain will take precious good care 
 you don't come near her." 
 
 Mr. Vanrevel already possessed a profound con- 
 viction to the same effect. Robert Meilhac Carewe 
 was known not only as the wealthiest citizen of 
 Rouen, but also as its heartiest and most steadfast 
 
8 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 hater; and, although there were only five or six 
 thousand inhabitants, neither was a small distinc- 
 tion. For Rouen was ranked, in those easy days, 
 as a wealthy town; even as it was called an old 
 town; proud of its age and its riches, and bitter 
 in its politics, of course. The French had built a 
 fort there, soon after LaSalle's last voyage, and, 
 as Crailey Gray said, had settled the place, and 
 had then been settled themselves by the pioneer 
 militia. After the Revolution, Carolinians and Vir- 
 ginians had come, by way of Tennessee and Ken- 
 tucky; while the adventurous countrymen from 
 Connecticut, travelling thither to sell, remained to 
 buy and then sell when the country was in its 
 teens. In course of time the little trading-post of 
 the Northwest Territory had grown to be the lead- 
 ing centre of elegance and culture in the Ohio Valley 
 at least they said so in Rouen; only a few people 
 in the country, such as Mr. Irving of Tarrytown, 
 for instance, questioning whether a centre could lead. 
 The pivotal figure, though perhaps not the heart, 
 of this centre, was unquestionably Mr. Carewe, and 
 about him the neat and tight aristocracy of the 
 place revolved; the old French remnant, having 
 liberally intermarried, forming the nucleus, to- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 9 
 
 gather with descendants of the Cavaliers (and those 
 who said they were) and the industrious Yankees, 
 by virtue (if not by the virtues) of all whom, the 
 town grew and prospered. Robert Care we was 
 Rouen's magnate, commercially and socially, and, 
 until an upstart young lawyer named Vanrevel 
 struck into his power with a broad-axe, politically. 
 The wharves were Carewe's; the warehouses that 
 stood by the river, and the line of packets which 
 plied upon it, were his; half the town was his, and 
 in Rouen this meant that he was possessed of the 
 Middle Justice, the High and the Low. His mother 
 was a Frenchwoman, and, in those days, when to 
 go abroad was a ponderous and venturesome under- 
 taking, the fact that he had spent most of his youth 
 in the French capital wrought a certain glamour 
 about him; for to the American, Paris was Europe, 
 and it lay shimmering on the far horizon of every 
 imagination, a golden city. Scarce a drawing-room 
 in Rouen lacked its fearsome engraving entitled 
 "Grand Ball at the Tuileries," nor was Godey's Maga- 
 zine ever more popular than when it contained ar- 
 ticles elaborate of similar scenes of festal light, 
 where brilliant uniforms mingled with shining jewels, 
 fair locks, and the white shoulders of magnificently 
 
10 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 dressed duchesses, countesses, and ladies. (Credit 
 for this description should be given entirely to the 
 above-mentioned periodical. Furthermore, a sojourn 
 in Paris was held to confer a "certain nameless and 
 indescribable polish" upon the manners of the vis- 
 itor; also, there was something called "an air of 
 foreign travel." 
 
 They talked a great deal about polish hi those 
 days; and some examples still extant do not deny 
 their justification; but in the case of Mr. Carewe, 
 there existed a citizen of Rouen, one already quoted, 
 who had the temerity to declare the polish to be in 
 truth quite nameless and indescribable for the rea- 
 son that one cannot paint a vacuum. However, 
 subscription to this opinion should not be over- 
 hasty, since Mr. Crailey Gray had been notoriously 
 a rival of Carewe's with every pretty woman in town, 
 both having the same eye in such matters, and also 
 because the slandered gentleman could assume a 
 manner when he chose to, whether or not he pos- 
 sessed it. At his own table he exhaled a hospitable 
 graciousness which, from a man of known evil 
 temper, carried the winsomeness of surprise. When 
 he wooed, it was with an air of stately devotion, 
 combined with that knowingness which sometimes 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 11 
 
 offsets for a widower the tendency a girl has to gig- 
 gle at him; and the combination has been, once or 
 twice, too much for even the alluring Crailey. 
 
 Mr. Carewe lived in an old-fashioned house on 
 the broad, quiet, shady street which bore his name. 
 There was a wide lawn in front, shadowy under elm 
 and locust trees, and bounded by thick shrubberies. 
 A long garden, fair with roses and holly-hocks, lay 
 jutside the library windows, an old-time garden, 
 with fine gravel paths and green arbors; drowsed 
 over in summer-time by the bees, while overhead 
 the locust rasped his rusty cadences the livelong 
 day; and a faraway sounding love-note from the 
 high branches brought to mind the line, like an old 
 refrain : 
 
 "The voice of the turtle was heard in the land." 
 
 Between the garden and the carriage gates there 
 was a fountain where a bronze boy with the dropsy 
 (but not minding it) lived in a perpetual bath from 
 a green goblet held over his head. Nearby, a stone 
 sun-dial gleamed against a clump of lilac bushes; 
 and it was upon this spot that the white kitten in- 
 troduced Thomas Vanrevel to Miss Carewe. 
 
 Upon the morning after her arrival, having fin- 
 ished her piano-forte practice, touched her harp 
 
12 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 twice, and arpeggioed the Spanish Fandango on her 
 guitar, Miss Betty read two paragraphs of "Gilbert'* 
 (for she was profoundly determined to pursue her 
 tasks with diligence), but the open windows dis- 
 closing a world all sunshine and green leaves, she 
 threw the book aside with a good conscience, and 
 danced out to the garden. There, coming upon a 
 fuzzy, white ball rolling into itself spirally on a lazy 
 pathway, she pounced at it, whereupon the thing 
 uncurled with lightning swiftness, and fled, more 
 like a streak than a kitten, down the drive, through 
 the open gates and into the street, Miss Betty in 
 full cry. 
 
 Across the way there chanced to be strolling a 
 young lady in blue, accompanied by a gentleman 
 whose leisurely gait gave no indication of the ma- 
 noeuvring he had done to hasten their walk into its 
 present direction. He was apparently thirty or 
 thirty-one, tall, very straight, dark, smooth-shaven, 
 his eyes keen, deep-set, and thoughtful, and his 
 high white hat, white satin cravat, and careful col- 
 lar, were evidence of an elaboration of toilet some- 
 what unusual in Rouen for the morning; also, he 
 was carrying a pair of white gloves in his hand and 
 dangled a slender ebony cane from his wrist. The 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 13 
 
 flying kitten headed toward the couple, when, with 
 a celerity only to be accounted for on the theory 
 that his eye had been fixed on the Carewe gateway 
 for some time previous to this sudden apparition, 
 the gentleman leaped in front of the fugitive. 
 
 The kitten attempted a dodge to pass; the gen- 
 tleman was there before it. The kitten feinted; 
 the gentleman was altogether too much on the spot. 
 Immediately and just as Miss Carewe, flushed and 
 glowing, ran into the street the small animal 
 doubled, evaded Miss Betty's frantic clutch, re- 
 entered the gateway, and attempted a disappear- 
 ance into the lilac bushes, instead of going round 
 them, only to find itself, for a fatal two seconds, in 
 difficulties with the close-set thicket of stems 
 
 In regard to the extraordinary agility of which 
 the pursuing gentleman was capable, it is enough 
 to say that he caught the cat. He emerged from 
 the lilacs holding it in one hand, his gloves and 
 white hat in the other, and presented himself before 
 Miss Betty with a breathlessness ' not entirely at- 
 tributable to his exertions. 
 
 For a moment, as she came running toward him 
 and he met her flashing look, bright with laughter 
 and recognition and haste, he stammered. A thrill 
 
14 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 nothing less than delirious sent the blood up behind 
 his brown cheeks, for he saw that she, too, knew 
 that this was the second time their eyes had met. 
 Naturally, at that time he could not know how 
 many other gentlemen were to feel that same thrill 
 (in their cases, also, delirious, no less) with the 
 same, accompanying, mysterious feeling, which came 
 just before Miss Betty's lashes fell, that one had 
 found, at last, a precious thing, lost long since in 
 childhood, or left, perhaps, upon some other planet 
 in a life ten thousand years ago. 
 
 He could not speak at once, but when he could. 
 "Permit me, madam,"' he said solemnly, offering the 
 captive, "to restore your kitten." 
 
 An agitated kitten should not be detained bj, 
 clasping its waist, and already the conqueror was 
 paying for his victory. There ensued a final, out- 
 rageous squirm of despair; two frantic claws, ex- 
 tended, drew one long red mark across the stranger's 
 wrist and another down the back of his hand to the 
 knuckles. They were good, hearty scratches, and 
 the blood followed the artist's lines rapidly; but of 
 this the young man took no note, for he knew that 
 he was about to hear Miss Carewe's voice for the 
 first time. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 15 
 
 "They say the best way to hold them," he ob- 
 served, "is by the scruff of the neck." 
 
 Beholding his wounds, suffered in her cause, she 
 gave a pitying cry that made his heart leap with 
 the richness and sweetness of it. Catching the 
 kitten from him, she dropped it to the ground in 
 such wise as to prove nature's foresight most kind 
 in cushioning the feet of cats. 
 
 "Ah! I didn't want it that much!" 
 
 "A cat in the hand is worth two nightingales in 
 the bush," he said boldly, and laughed. "I would 
 shed more blood than that!" 
 
 Miss Betty blushed like a southern dawn, and 
 started back from him. From the convent but yes- 
 terday and she had taken a man's hand in both 
 of hers! 
 
 It was to this tableau that the lady in blue en- 
 tered, following the hunt through the gates, where 
 she stopped with a discomposed countenance. At 
 once, however, she advanced, and with a cry of 
 greeting, enveloped Miss Betty in a brief embrace, 
 to the relief of the latter 's confusion. It was Fanchon 
 Bareaud, now two years emancipated from St. Mary's, 
 and far gone in taffeta. With her lustreful light hair, 
 absent blue eyes, and her gentle voice, as small and 
 
16 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 pretty as her face and figure, it was not too difficult 
 to justify Crailey Gray's characterization of her as 
 one of those winsome baggages who had made an 
 air of feminine helplessness the fashion of the day. 
 
 It is a wicked thing that some women should kiss 
 when a man is by; in the present instance the gen- 
 tleman became somewhat faint. 
 
 "I'm so glad glad !" exclaimed Betty. "You 
 were just coming to see me, weren't you? My 
 father is in the library. Let me 
 
 Miss Bareaud drew back. "No, no!" she inter- 
 rupted hastily and with evident perturbation. "I 
 we must be on our way immediately." She threw 
 a glance at the gentleman, which let him know that 
 she now comprehended his gloves, and why their 
 stroll had trended toward Care we Street. "Come at 
 once!" she commanded him quickly, in an under- 
 tone 
 
 "But now that you're here," said Miss Betty, 
 wondering very much why he was not presented to 
 her, "won't you wait and let me gather a nosegay 
 for you? Our pansies and violets 
 
 "I could help," the gentleman suggested, with the 
 look of a lame dog at Miss Bareaud. "I have been 
 considered useful about a garden." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 17 
 
 "Fool!" Betty did not hear the word that came 
 from Miss Bareaud's closed teeth, though she was 
 mightily surprised at the visible agitation of her 
 schoolmate, for the latter's face was pale and ex- 
 cited. And Miss Carewe's amazement was com- 
 plete when Fanchon, without more words, cavalierly 
 seized the gentleman's arm and moved toward the 
 street with him as rapidly as his perceptible reluc- 
 tance to leave permitted. But at the gate Miss 
 Bareaud turned and called back over her shoulder, 
 as if remembering the necessity of offering an ex- 
 cuse for so remarkable a proceeding: "I shall come 
 again very soon. Just now we are upon an errand of 
 great importance. Good-day!" 
 
 Miss Betty waved her hand, staring after them, 
 her eyes large with wonder. She compressed her 
 lips tightly: "Errand!" This was the friend of 
 childhood's happy hour, and they had not met in 
 two years! 
 
 "Errand!" She ran to the hedge, along the top 
 of which a high white hat was now seen perambulat- 
 ing; she pressed down a loose branch, and called in a 
 tender voice to the stranger whom Fanchon had 
 chosen should remain nameless: 
 
 "Be sure to put some salve on your hand!" 
 
18 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 He made a bow which just missed being too low, 
 but did miss it. 
 
 "It is there already," he said; and, losing his 
 courage after the bow, made his speech with so 
 palpable a gasp before the last word that the dullest 
 person in the world could have seen that he meant it. 
 
 Miss Betty disappeared 
 
 There was a rigidity of expression about the 
 gentle mouth of Fanchon Bareaud, which her com- 
 panion did not enjoy, as they went on their way, 
 each preserving an uneasy silence, until at her own 
 door, she turned sharply upon him. "Tom Van- 
 revel, I thought you were the steadiest and now 
 you've proved yourself the craziest soul in Rouen !'* 
 she burst out. "And I couldn't say worse!" 
 
 "Why didn't you present me to her?" asked 
 Vanrevel. 
 
 "Because I thought a man of your gallantry 
 might prefer not to face a shot-gun in the presence 
 of ladies!" 
 
 "Pooh!" 
 
 "Pooh!" mimicked Miss Bareaud. "You can 
 'pooh' as much as you like, but if he had seen us 
 from the window " She covered her face with 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 19 
 
 her hands for a moment, then dropped them and 
 smiled upon him. "I understand perfectly to what 
 I owe the pleasure of a stroll with you this morning, 
 and your casual insistence on the shadiness of 
 Carewe Street!" He laughed nervously, but her 
 smile vanished, and she continued, "Keep away, 
 Tom. She is beautiful, and at St. Mary's I always 
 thought she had spirit and wit, too. I only hope 
 Crailey won't see her before the wedding! But it 
 isn't safe for you. Go along, now, and ask Crailey 
 please to come at three this afternoon." 
 
 This message from Mr. Gray's betrothed was not 
 all the ill-starred Tom conveyed to his friend. Mr. 
 Vanrevel was ordinarily esteemed a person of great 
 reserve and discretion; nevertheless there was one 
 man to whom he told everything, and from whom 
 he had no secrets. He spent the noon hour in 
 feeble attempts to describe to Crailey Gray the 
 outward appearance of Miss Elizabeth Carewe; 
 how she ran like a young Diana; what one felt 
 upon hearing her voice; and he presented in him- 
 self an example exhibiting something of the cost of 
 looking in her eyes. His conversation was more or 
 less incoherent, but the effect of it was complete. 
 
CHAPTER H 
 
 SURVIVING EVILS OF THE REIGN OF TERROR 
 
 DOES there exist an incredulous, or jealous, 
 denizen of another portion of our country 
 who, knowing that the room in the wooden 
 cupola over Mr. Carewe's library was commonly 
 alluded to by Rouen as the * 'Tower Chamber," will 
 prove himself so sectionally prejudiced as to deny 
 that the town was a veritable hotbed of literary in- 
 terest, or that Sir Walter Scott was ill-appreciated 
 there? Some of the men looked sly, and others 
 grinned, at mention of this apartment; but the ro- 
 mantic were not lacking who spoke of it in whis- 
 pers: how the lights sometimes shone there all night 
 long, and the gentlemen drove away, white-faced, in 
 the dawn. The cupola, rising above the library, 
 overlooked the garden; and the house, save for that, 
 was of a single story, with a low veranda running the 
 length of its front. The windows of the library and 
 of a row of bedrooms one of which was Miss 
 Betty's lined the veranda, "steamboat fashion;" 
 
 the inner doors of these rooms all opening upon a 
 
 20 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 21 
 
 long hall which bisected the house. The stairway 
 leading to the room in the cupola rose in the library 
 itself, while the bisecting hall afforded the only 
 access to the library; hence, the gossips, well ac- 
 quainted with the geography of the place, conferred 
 seriously together upon what effect Miss Betty's 
 homecoming would have in this connection: for any- 
 one going to the stairway must needs pass her door; 
 and, what was more to the point, a party of gentle- 
 men descending late from the mysterious turret 
 might be not so quiet as they intended, and the 
 young lady sufficiently disturbed to inquire of her 
 father what entertainment he provided that should 
 keep his guests until four in the morning. 
 
 But at present it was with the opposite end of 
 the house that the town was occupied, for there, 
 workmen were hammering and sawing and painting 
 all day long, finishing the addition Mr. Carewe was 
 building for his daughter's debut. This hammering 
 disturbed Miss Betty, who had become almost as 
 busy with the French Revolution as with her 
 mantua-maker. For she had found in her father's 
 library many books not for convent-shelves; and 
 she had become a Girondin. 
 
 She found memoirs, histories, and tales of that de- 
 
22 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 lectable period, then not so dim with time but that 
 the figures of it were more than tragic shadows; 
 and for a week there was no meal in that house to 
 which she sat down earlier than half an hour late. 
 She had a rightful property-interest m the Revolu- 
 tion, her own great-uncle having been one of those 
 who "suffered;" not, however, under the guillo- 
 tine; for to Georges Neilhac appertained the rare 
 distinction of death by accident on the day when 
 the business-like young Bonaparte played upon the 
 mob with his cannon. 
 
 There were some yellow letters of this great- 
 uncle's in a box which had belonged to her grand- 
 mother, a rich discovery for Miss Betty, who read 
 and re-read them with eager and excited eyes, living 
 more in Paris with Georges and his friends than 
 in Rouen with her father. Indeed, she had little 
 else to do. Mr. Carewe w^as no comrade for her, 
 by far the reverse. She seldom saw him, except at 
 the table, when he sat with averted eyes, and talked 
 to her very little; and, while making elaborate 
 preparation for her introduction to his friends 
 (such was his phrase) he treated her with a per- 
 functory civility which made her wonder if her ad- 
 vent was altogether welcome to him; but when she 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 23 
 
 noticed that his hair looked darker than usual about 
 every fourth day, she began to understand why he 
 appeared ungrateful to her for growing up. He 
 went out a great deal, though no visitors came to 
 the house; for it was known that Mr. Care we de- 
 sired to present his daughter to no one until he pre- 
 sented her to all. Fanchon Bareaud, indeed, made 
 one hurried and embarrassed call, evading Miss 
 Betty's reference to the chevalier of the kitten with 
 a dexterity too nimble to be thought unintentional. 
 Miss Carewe was forbidden to return her friend's 
 visit until after her debut; and Mr. Carewe ex- 
 plained that there was always some worthless young 
 men hanging about the Bareaud's, where (he did 
 not add) they interfered with a worthy old one who 
 desired to honor Fanchon's older sister, Virginia, 
 with his attentions. 
 
 This was no great hardship for Miss Betty, as, 
 since plunging into the Revolution with her great- 
 uncle, she had lost some curiosity concerning the 
 men of to-day, doubting that they would show forth 
 as heroic, as debonair, gay and tragic as he. He 
 was the legendary hero of her childhood; she re- 
 membered her mother's stories of him perhaps more 
 clearly than she rerpembsred her mother; and one 
 
24 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 of the older Sisters had known him in Paris and had 
 talked of him at length, giving the flavor of his 
 dandyism and his beauty at first hand to his young 
 relative. He had been one of those hardy young 
 men wearing unbelievable garments, who began to 
 appear in the garden of the Tuileries with knives 
 in their sleeves and cudgels in their hands, about 
 April, 1794, and whose dash and recklessness in 
 many matters were the first intimations that the 
 Citizen Tallien was about to cause the Citizen 
 Robespierre to shoot himself through the jaw. 
 
 In the library hung a small, full-length drawing 
 of Georges, done in color by Miss Betty's grand- 
 mother; and this she carried to her own room and 
 studied long and ardently, until sometimes the man 
 himself seemed to stand before her, in spite of the 
 fact that Mile. Meilhac had not a distinguished tal- 
 ent and M. Meilhac's features might have been any- 
 body's. It was to be seen, however, that he was 
 smiling. 
 
 Miss Betty had an impression that her grand- 
 mother's art of portraiture would have been more 
 successful with the profile than the "full-face." 
 Nevertheless, nothing could be more clearly indi- 
 cated than that the hair of M. Meilhac was very 
 
THE TWO VANEEVELS 25 
 
 yellow, and his short, huge-lapelled waistcoat white, 
 striped with scarlet. An enormous cravat covered 
 his chin; the heavy collar of his yellow coat rose 
 behind his ears, while its tails fell to his ankles; 
 and the tight trousers of white and yellow stripes 
 were tied with white ribbons about the middle of the 
 calf; he wore white stockings and gold-buckled 
 yellow shoes, and on the back of his head a jauntily 
 cocked black hat. Miss Betty innocently wondered 
 why his letters did not speak of P6tion, of Ver- 
 gniaud, or of Dumoriez, since in the historical 
 novels which she read, the hero's lot was inevitably 
 linked with that of everyone of importance in his 
 generation; yet Georges appeared to have been un- 
 acquainted with these personages, Robespierre being 
 the only name of consequence mentioned in his 
 letters; and then it appeared in much the same 
 fashion practised by her father in alluding to the 
 Governor of the State, who had the misfortune to be 
 unpopular with Mr. Carewe. But this did not dim 
 her great-uncle's lustre in Miss Betty's eyes, nor 
 lessen for her the pathetic romance of the smile he 
 wore. 
 
 Beholding this smile, one remembered the end to 
 which his light footsteps had led him; and it was 
 
26 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 unavoidable tx> picture him left lying in the empty 
 street behind the heels of the flying crowd, care- 
 fully forming that same smile on his lips, and taking 
 much pride in passing with some small, cynical 
 speech, murmured to himself, concerning the inu- 
 tility of a gentleman's getting shot by his friends 
 for merely being present to applaud them. So, 
 fancying him thus, with his yellow hair, his scarlet- 
 striped waistcoat, and his tragedy, the young girl 
 felt a share of family greatness, or, at least, of 
 picturesqueness, descend to her. And she smiled 
 sadly back upon the smile in the picture, and dreamed 
 about its original night after night. 
 
 Whether or no another figure, that of a dark young 
 man in a white hat, with a white kitten etching 
 his wrist in red, found any place in her dreams 
 at this period, it is impossible to determine. She 
 did not see him again. It is quite another thing, 
 hazardous to venture, to state that he did not see 
 her. At all events, it is certain that many people 
 who had never beheld her were talking of her; that 
 Rouen was full of contention concerning her beauty 
 and her gift of music, for a song can be heard through 
 an open window. And how did it happen that 
 Crailey Gray knew that it was Miss Carewe's habit 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 27 
 
 to stroll in her garden for half an hour or so, eack 
 evening before retiring, and that she went to mass 
 every morning soon after sunrise? Crailey Gray 
 never rose at, or near, sunrise in his life, though he 
 sometimes beheld it, from another point of view, 
 as the end of the evening. It appears that someone 
 must have told him. 
 
 One night when the moon lay white on the trees 
 and housetops, Miss Betty paused in her evening 
 promenade and seated herself upon a bench on the 
 borders of the garden, "touched," as the books of 
 the time would have put it, "by the sweet tran- 
 quility of the scene," and wrought upon by the 
 tender incentive to sighs and melancholy which 
 youth in loneliness finds in a loveliness of the earth. 
 The breeze bore the smells of the old-fashioned gar- 
 den, of violets and cherry blossoms, and a sound of 
 distant violins came on the air playing the new song 
 from the new opera. 
 
 "But I also dreamt, which pleased me most. 
 That you loved me just the 
 
 they sang; and with the lilt of them and the keen 
 beauty of the night, the inherited pain of the agei 
 rose from the depths of the young girFs heart, so 
 that she thought it must break; for what reason 
 
28 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 she could not have told, since she was without care 
 or sorrow that she knew, except the French Revo- 
 lution, yet tears shone upon the long lashes. She 
 shook them off and looked up with a sudden odd 
 consciousness. The next second she sprang to 
 her feet with a gasp and a choked outcry, her hands 
 pressed to her breast. 
 
 Ten paces in front of her, a gap in the shrubbery 
 where tall trees rose left a small radiant area of il- 
 lumination like that of a lime-light in a theatre, its 
 brilliancy intensified by the dark foliage behind. 
 It was open to view only from the bench by which 
 she stood, and appeared, indeed, like the ":age of 
 a little theatre, a stage occupied by a bi rre fig- 
 ure. For, in the centre of this shining patch, with 
 the light strong on his face, was standing a fair- 
 haired young man, dressed in a yellow coat, a scar- 
 let and white striped waistcoat, wearing a jauntily 
 cocked black hat on his head. And even to the 
 last detail, the ribbon laces above the ankle and the 
 gold-buckled shoes, he was the sketch of Georges 
 Meilhac sprung into life. 
 
 About this slender figure there hung a wan sweet- 
 ness like a fine mist, almost an ethereality in that 
 light; yet in the pale face lurked something reck- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 29 
 
 less, something of the actor, too; and though his 
 smile was gentle and wistful, there was a twinkle 
 behind it, not seen at first, something amused and 
 impish; a small surprise underneath, like a flea in 
 a rose- jar. 
 
 Fixed to the spot by this apparition, Miss Betty 
 stood wildly staring, her straining eyelids showing 
 the white above and below the large brown iris. Her 
 breath came faster and deeper, until, between her 
 parted lips it became vocal in a quick sound like a 
 sob. At that he spoke. 
 
 "Forgive me!" The voice was low, vibrant, and 
 so exceedingly musical that he might have been 
 accused of coolly selecting his best tone; and it be- 
 came only sweeter when, even more softly, in a 
 semi-whisper of almost crucial pleading, he said, 
 "Ah don't go away!" 
 
 In truth, she could not go; she had been too 
 vitally stirred; she began to tremble exces- 
 sively, and sank back upon the bench, motioning 
 him away with vague gestures of her shaking 
 hands. 
 
 This was more than the Incroyable had counted 
 upon, and far from his desires. He started forward 
 with an exclamation. 
 
30 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Don't come near me!" she gasped. "Who are 
 you? Go away!" 
 
 "Give me one second to explain," he began; but 
 with the instant reassurance of this beginning she 
 cut him off short, her fears dispelled by his com- 
 monplace. Nay, indignation displaced them so 
 quickly that she fairly flashed up before him to her 
 full height. 
 
 "You did not come in by the gate!" she cried. 
 "What do you mean by coming here in that dress? 
 What right have you in my garden?" 
 
 "Just one word," he begged quickly, but very 
 gently. <r You'd allow a street-beggar that much!" 
 
 She stood before him, panting, and, as he thought, 
 glorious, in her flush of youth and anger. Tom 
 Vanrevel had painted her incoherently, but richly, 
 in spite of that, his whole heart being in the portrait; 
 and Crailey Gray had smiled at what he deemed 
 the exaggeration of an ordinarily unimpressionable 
 man who had fallen in love "at first sight;" yet, in 
 the presence of the reality, the Incroyable decided 
 that Tom's colors had been gray and humble. It 
 was not that she was merely lovely, that her nose 
 was straight, and her chin dexterously wrought 
 between square and oval; that her dark hair lay 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 31 
 
 soft as a shadow on her white brow; not that the 
 trembling hand she held against her breast sprang 
 from a taper wrist and tapered again to the tips 
 of the long fingers; nor that she was of that slender- 
 ness as strong as it is delicate; not all the exquisite 
 regularity of line and mould, nor simplicity of color, 
 gave her that significance which made the Incroy- 
 able declare to himself that he stood for the first time 
 in the presence of Beauty, and that now he knew 
 the women he had been wont to call beautiful were 
 but pretty. And yet her beauty, he told himself, 
 was the least of her loveliness, for there was a glam- 
 our about her. It was not only the richness of her 
 youth; but there was an ineffable exhalation which 
 seemed to be made partly of light, partly of the very 
 spirit of her, and, oddly enough, partly of the scent 
 of the little fan that hung by a ribbon from her 
 waist. This was a woman like a wine, he felt, there 
 was a bouquet. 
 
 In regard to the bouquet of the young man him- 
 self, if he possessed one, it is pertinent to relate 
 that at this very instant the thought skipped across 
 his mind (like the hop of a flea in a rose- jar) that 
 some day he might find the moment when he could 
 tell her the truth about herself with a half -laugh 
 
32 THE TWO VANBEVELS 
 
 and say: "The angels sent their haloes in a sandal- 
 wood box to be made into a woman and it was 
 you!" 
 
 "If you have anything to say for yourself, say 
 it quickly!" said Miss Betty. 
 
 "You were singing a while ago," he answered, 
 somewhat huskily, "and I stopped on the street to 
 listen; then I came here to be nearer. The spell of 
 
 your voice " He broke off abruptly to change 
 
 the word. "The spell of the song came over me 
 it is my dearest favorite so that I stood afterward 
 in a sort of trance, only hearing again, in the silence, 
 'The stolen heart, like the gathered rose, will bloom 
 but for a day!' I did not see you until you came 
 to the bench. You must believe me: I would not 
 have frightened you for anything in the world." 
 
 <c Why are you wearing that dress?" 
 
 He laughed, and pointed to where, behind him on 
 the ground, lay a long gray cloak, upon which had 
 been tossed a white mask. "I'm on my way to the 
 masquerade," he answered, with an airy gesture in 
 the direction of the violins. "I'm an Incroyable, 
 you see; and I had the costume made from my recol- 
 lection of a sketch of your great-uncle. I saw it a 
 long time ago in your library." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 33 
 
 Miss Carewe's accustomed poise was quite recov- 
 ered; indeed, she was astonished to discover a dis- 
 tinct trace of disappointment that the brilliant ap- 
 parition must offer so tame an explanation. What 
 he said was palpably the truth; there was a masque- 
 rade that night, she knew, at the Madrillon's, a little 
 way up Carewe Street, and her father had gone, 
 an hour earlier, a blue domino over his arm. 
 
 The Incroyable was a person of almost magical 
 perceptiveness; he felt the let-down immediately 
 and feared a failure. This would not do; the atti- 
 tude of tension between them must be renewed at 
 once. "You'll forgive me?" he began, in a quickly 
 impassioned tone. "It was only after you sang, 
 a dream possessed me, and " 
 
 "I cannot stay to talk with you," Miss Betty 
 interrupted, and added, with a straightforwardness 
 which made him afraid she would prove lamentably 
 direct: "I do not know you." 
 
 Perhaps she remembered that already one young 
 man had been presented to her by no better spon- 
 sor than a white cat, and had no desire to carry her 
 unconventionality farther than that. In the present 
 instance there was not even a kitten. 
 
 She turned toward the house, whereupon he gave 
 
34 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 a little pathetic exclamation of. pleading in a voice 
 that was masterly, being as sincere as it was musi- 
 cal, and he took a few leaning steps toward her, 
 both hands outstretched. 
 
 "One moment more!" he cried, as ike turned 
 again to him. "It may be the one chance of my 
 life to speak with you; don't deny me this. All 
 the rest will meet you when the happy evening 
 comes, will dance with you, talk with you, see you 
 when they like, listen to you sing. I, alone, must 
 hover about the gates, or steal like a thief into your 
 garden to hear you from a distance. Listen to me 
 just this once for a moment?" 
 
 "I cannot listen," she said firmly; and stood quite 
 still. She was now in deep shadow. 
 
 "I will not believe you merciless! You would 
 not condemn the meanest criminal unheard!" Re- 
 membering that she was so lately from the convent, 
 he ventured this speech in a deep, thrilling voice, 
 only to receive a distinct shock for his pains, for 
 she greeted it with an irrepressible, most unex- 
 pected peal of contralto laughter, and his lips parted 
 slightly with the surprise of it. 
 
 They parted much farther in the next instant 
 in good truth, it may be stated of the gentleman 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 35 
 
 that he was left with his mouth open for, sud- 
 denly leaning toward him out of the shadow into 
 the light, her face shining as a cast of tragedy, she 
 cried in a hoarse whisper: 
 
 "A re you a murderer?' 9 
 
 And with that and a whisk of her skirts, and a 
 footfall on the gravel path, she was gone. He 
 stood dumbfounded, poor comedian, having come 
 to play the chief role, but to find the scene taken 
 out of his hands. Then catching the flutter of her 
 wrap, as she disappeared into the darkness of the 
 veranda, he cried in a loud, manly voice: 
 
 "You are a dear!" 
 
 As he came out into the street through a gap in 
 the hedge, he paused, drawing his cloak about him, 
 and lifted his face to the eastern moon. It was a 
 strange face: the modelling most like what is called 
 "Greek," save for the nose, which was a trifle too 
 short for that, and the features showed a happy 
 purity of outline almost childlike; the blue eyes, 
 clear, fleckless, serenely irresponsible, with more 
 the look of refusing responsibility than being un- 
 conscious of it; eyes without care, without prudence, 
 and without evil. A stranger might have said 
 he was about twenty-five and had never a thought 
 
36 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 in his life. There were some blossoms on the hedge, 
 and he touched one lightly, as though he chucked 
 it under the chin; he smiled upon it then, but not 
 as he had smiled upon Miss Betty, for this was his 
 own, the smile that came when he was alone; and, 
 when it came, the face was no longer joyous as it 
 had been in repose; there was an infinite patience 
 and worn tolerance possibly for himself. This 
 incongruous and melancholy smile was astonishing: 
 one looked for the laughter of a boy and found, in- 
 stead, a gentle, worldly, old prelate. 
 
 Standing there, all alone in the moonlight, by 
 the hedge, he lifted both hands high and waved 
 them toward the house, as children wave to each 
 other across lawns at twilight. After that he made 
 a fantastic bow to his corrugated shadow on the 
 board sidewalk. 
 
 "Again, you rogue!" he exclaimed aloud. Then, 
 as he faced about and began to walk in the direction 
 of the beckoning violins: "I wonder if Tom's 
 kitten was better, after all!" 
 
CHAPTER HI 
 
 THE ROGUE'S GALLERY OF A FATHER SHOULD 
 
 BE EXHIBITED TO A DAUGHTER WITH 
 
 PARTICULAR CARE 
 
 THOSE angels appointed to be guardians 
 of the merry people of Rouen, poising one 
 night, between earth and stars, discovered 
 a single brilliant and resonant spot, set in the midst 
 of the dark, quiet town like a jewelled music-box on 
 a black cloth. Sounds of revelry and the dance 
 from the luminous spot came up through the sum- 
 mer stillness to the weary guardians all night long, 
 until, at last, when a red glow stole into the east, 
 and the dance still continued, nay, grew faster than 
 ever, the celestial watchers found the work too 
 heavy for their strength, and forthwith departed, 
 leaving the dancers to their own devices; for, as 
 everyone knows, when a dance lasts till daylight, 
 guardian angels flee. 
 
 All night long the fiddles had been swinging 
 away at their best; all night long the candles had 
 
 shone in thin rows of bright orange through the 
 
 37 
 
38 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 slits of the window-blinds; but now, as the day 
 broke over the maples, the shutters were flung open 
 by laughing young men, and the drivers of the car- 
 riages, waiting in the dusty street, pressed up closer 
 to the hedge, or came within and stretched them- 
 selves upon the lawn, to see the people waltzing in 
 the daylight. The horses, having no such desires, 
 stood with loosened check-reins, slightly twitching 
 their upper lips, wistful of the tall grass which bor- 
 dered the wooden sidewalk, though now and then 
 one would lift his head high, sniffing the morning 
 air and bending an earnest gaze not upon the dan- 
 cers but upon the florid east. 
 
 Over the unwearied plaint of French-horn, vio- 
 lin, and bassoon, rose a silvery confusion of voices 
 and laughter and the sound of a hundred footfalls 
 in unison, while, from the open windows there is- 
 sued a warm breath, heavily laden with the smell 
 of scented fans, of rich fabrics, of dying roses, to 
 mingle with the spicy perfume of a wild crab-tree 
 in fullest blossom, which stood near enough to peer 
 into the ball-room, and, like a brocaded belle her- 
 self, challenge the richest to show raiment as fine, 
 the loveliest to look as fair and joyful in the 
 dawn. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 39 
 
 "Believe me, if all those endearing young charms. 
 
 Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
 Were to fade by to-morrow and fleet from my arms, 
 Like fairy gifts fading away " 
 
 So ran the violins in waltz time, so bassoon and 
 horn to those dulcet measures; and then, with one 
 accord, a hundred voices joined them in the old, 
 sweet melody: 
 
 "Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art. 
 
 Let thy loveliness fade as it will; 
 And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart 
 Would entwine itself verdantly still.'' 
 
 And the jealous crab-tree found but one to over- 
 match itself in beauty: a lady who was the focus of 
 the singing; for, by the time the shutters were flung 
 open, there was not a young man in the room, 
 lacked he never so greatly in music or in voice, who 
 did not heartily desire to sing to Miss Betty Ca- 
 rewe, and who did not now (craning neck over part- 
 ner's shoulder) seek to fix her with his glittering 
 eye, while he sang "Oh, believe me" most directly 
 and conspicuously at her. For that night was the 
 beginning of Miss Betty's famous career as the 
 belle of Rouen, and was the date from which 
 strangers were to hear of her as "the beautiful 
 
40 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Miss Carewe," until "beautiful" was left off, vis- 
 itors to the town being supposed to have heard at 
 least that much before they came. 
 
 There had been much discussion of her, though 
 only one or two had caught glimpses of her; but 
 most of the gallants appeared to agree with Crailey 
 Gray, who aired his opinion in an exceedingly 
 casual way at the little club on Main Street. Mr. 
 Gray held that when the daughter of a man as rich 
 as Bob Carewe was heralded as a beauty the chances 
 were that she would prove disappointing, and, for 
 his part, he was not even interested enough to at- 
 tend and investigate. So he was going down the 
 river in a canoe and preferred the shyness of bass 
 to that of a girl of eighteen just from the convent, 
 he said. Tom Vanrevel was not present on the 
 occasion of these remarks, and the general con- 
 currence with Crailey may be suspected as a purely 
 verbal one, since, when the evening came, two of 
 the most enthusiastic dancers and love-makers of 
 the town, the handsome Tappinghani Marsh and 
 that doughty ex-dragoon and Indian fighter, stout 
 old General Trumble, were upon the field before 
 the enemy appeared; that is to say, they were in 
 the new ball-room before their host; indeed, the 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 41 
 
 musicians had not arrived, and Nelson, an aged 
 negro servitor, was engaged in lighting the house. 
 
 The crafty pair had planned this early descent 
 with a view to monopoly by right of priority, in 
 case the game proved worth the candle, and they 
 were leaning effectively against the little railing 
 about the musicians' platform when Mr. Carewe 
 entered the room with his daughter on his arm. 
 
 She was in white, touched with countless small 
 lavender flowers; there were rows and rows of won- 
 derful silk and lace flounces on her skirt, and her 
 fan hung from a rope of great pearls. Ah, hid- 
 eous, blue, rough cloth of the convent, unforgotten, 
 but laid aside forever, what a chrysalis you were! 
 
 Tappingham twitched his companion's sleeve, 
 but the General was already posing; and neither 
 heard the words of presentation, because Miss 
 Betty gave each of them a quick look, then smiled 
 upon them as they bowed; the slayers were pros- 
 trated before their prey. Never were lady-killers 
 more instantaneously tamed and subjugated by the 
 power of the feminine eye. Will Cummings came 
 in soon, and, almost upon his heels, Eugene Ma- 
 drillon and young Frank Chenoweth. No others 
 appeared for half an hour, and the five gentlemen 
 
42 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 looked at one another aside, each divining his own 
 diplomacy in his fellow's eye, and each laboriously 
 explaining to the others his own mistake in regard 
 to the hour designated upon Mr. Carewe's cards of 
 invitation. This small embarrassment, however, 
 did not prevent General Trumble and young Mr. 
 Chenoweth from coming to high words over Miss 
 Carewe's little, gilt-filigree "programme" of dances. 
 It may be not untimely to remark, also, of these 
 five redoubtable beaux, that, during the evening, 
 it occurred to every one of them to be glad that 
 Crailey Gray was betrothed to Fanchon Bareaud, 
 and that he was down on the Rouen River with a 
 canoe, a rod and a tent. Nay, without more words, 
 to declare the truth in regard to Crailey, they felt 
 greater security in his absence from the field than 
 in his betrothal. As Mr. Chenoweth, a youth as 
 open as out-of-doors, both in countenance and 
 mind, observed plaintively to Tappingham Marsh 
 in a corner, while they watched Miss Betty's laven- 
 der flowers miraculously swirling through a quad- 
 rille: "Crailey, you know, well, Crailey's been en- 
 gaged before!" It was not Mr. Chenoweth's habit 
 to disguise his apprehensions, and Crailey Gray 
 would not fish for bass forever. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 43 
 
 The same Chenoweth was he, who, maddened by 
 the General's triumphantly familiar way of toying 
 with Miss Betty's fan between two dances, at- 
 tempted to propose to her during the sunrise waltz. 
 Having sung "Oh, believe me" in her ear as loudly 
 as he could, he expressed the wish quite as loudly 
 "That this waltz might last for always!" 
 
 That was the seventh time it had been said to 
 Betty during the night, and though Mr. Cheno- 
 weth 's predecessors had revealed their desires in a 
 guise lacking this prodigious artlessness, she al- 
 ready possessed no novel acquaintance with the 
 exclamation. But she made no comment; her part- 
 ner's style was not a stimulant to repartee. "It 
 would be heaven," he amplified earnestly, "it would 
 be heaven to dance with you forever on a desert 
 isle where the others couldn't come!" he finished 
 with sudden acerbity as his eye caught the General's. 
 
 He proceeded, and only the cessation of the 
 music aided Miss Carewe in stopping the declara- 
 tion before it was altogether out; and at that point 
 Frank's own father came to her rescue, though in 
 a fashion little saving of her confusion. The elder 
 Chenoweth was one of the gallant and kindly South- 
 colony that made it natural for Rouen always 
 
44 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 to speak of Miss Carewe as "Miss Betty." He 
 was a handsome old fellow, whose hair, long mous- 
 tache and imperial were as white as he was proud 
 of them, a Virginian with the admirable Southern 
 fearlessness of being thought sentimental. Mount- 
 ing a chair with complete dignity, he lifted a glass 
 of wine high in the air, and, when all the other 
 glasses had been filled, proposed the health of his 
 young hostess. He made a speech of some length, 
 pronouncing himself quite as hopelessly in love 
 with his old friend's daughter as all could see his 
 own son was; and wishing her long life and pros- 
 perity, with many allusions to fragrant bowers and 
 the Muses. 
 
 It made Miss Betty happy, but it was rather 
 trying, too, for she could only stand with down- 
 cast eyes before them all, trembling a little, and 
 receiving a mixed impression of Mr. Chenoweth's 
 remarks, catching fragments here and there: "And 
 may the blush upon that gentle cheek, lovelier 
 than the radiant clouds at set of sun," and "Yet 
 the sands of the hour-glass must fall, and in the 
 calm and beauteous old age some day to be her lot, 
 when fond mem'ry leads her back to view again the 
 brilliant scene about her now, where stand 'fair 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 45 
 
 women and brave men,' wine-cup in hand to do her 
 honor, oh, may she wipe the silent tear," and the 
 like. As the old gentleman finished, and before 
 the toast was drunk, Fanchon Bareaud, kissing her 
 hand to Betty, took up the song again; and they 
 all joined in, lifting their glasses to the blushing 
 and happy girl clinging to her father's arm: 
 
 "Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art, 
 
 Let thy loveliness fade as it will; 
 And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart 
 Would entwine itself verdantly still" 
 
 They were happy people who had not learned 
 to be self-conscious enough to fear doing a pretty 
 thing openly without mocking themselves for it; 
 and it was a brave circle they made about Betty 
 Carewe, the charming faces of the women and their 
 fine furbelows, handsome men and tall, all so gay, 
 so cheerily smiling, and yet so earnest in their wel- 
 come to her. No one was afraid to "let out" his 
 voice; their song went full and strong over the 
 waking town, and when it was finished the ball was 
 over, too. 
 
 The veranda and the path to the gate became like 
 tropic gardens, the fair colors of the women's dresses, 
 ballooning in the early breeze, making the place 
 
46 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 seein strewn with giant blossoms. They all went 
 away at the same time, those in carriages calling 
 farewells to each other and to the little proces- 
 sions departing on foot in different directions to 
 homes near by. The sound of the voices and laugh- 
 ter drew away, slowly died out altogether, and the 
 silence of the street was strange and unfamiliar to 
 Betty. She went to the hedge and watched the 
 musicians, who were the last to go, until they passed 
 from sight: little black toilsome figures, carrying 
 grotesque black boxes. TVhile she could still see 
 them, it seemed to her that her ball was not quite 
 over, and she wished to hold the least speck of it as 
 long as she could; but when they had disappeared, 
 she faced the truth with a deep sigh: the long- 
 glorious night was finished indeed. 
 
 What she needed now was another girl: the two 
 would have gone to Betty's room and danced it all 
 over again until noon; but she had only her father. 
 She found him smoking a Principe cigar upon the 
 veranda, so she seated herself timidly, nevertheless 
 with a hopeful glance at him, on the steps at his 
 feet; and, as she did so, he looked down upon her 
 with something more akin to geniality than any- 
 thing she had ever seen in his eye before. It was 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 47 
 
 not geniality itself, but might be third cousin to it. 
 Indeed, in his way, he was almost proud of her, 
 though he had no wish to show it. Since one was 
 compelled to display the fact that one possessed 
 a grown daughter, it was well that she be like this 
 one. 
 
 They did not know each other very well, and she 
 often doubted that they would ever become inti- 
 mate. There was no sense of companionship for 
 either in the other; she had been unable to break 
 through his perfunctory, almost formal, manner 
 with her; therefore, because he encouraged no af- 
 fection in her, she felt none, and wondered why, 
 since he was her father. She was more curious 
 about him than interested, and, though she did 
 not know it, she was prepared to judge him should 
 occasion arise precisely as she would judge any 
 other mere acquaintance. This morning, for the 
 first time, she was conscious of a sense of warmth 
 and gratitude toward him: the elaborate fashion in 
 which he had introduced her to his friends made it 
 appear possible that he liked her, for he had for- 
 gotten nothing, and to remember everything in this 
 case was to be lavish, which has often the appear- 
 ance of generosity. 
 
48 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 And yet there had been a lack: some small thing 
 she had missed, though she was not entirely sure 
 that she identified it; but the lack had not been 
 in her father or in anything he had done. Then, 
 too, there was something so unexpectedly human 
 and pleasant in his not going to bed at once, but 
 remaining to smoke on the veranda at this hour, 
 that she gave him credit for a little of her own ex- 
 citement, innocently fancying that he, also, might, 
 feel the need of a companion with whom to talk 
 over the brilliant passages of the night. And a 
 moment ensued when she debated taking his hand. 
 She was too soon glad that her intuition forbade 
 the demonstration. 
 
 "It was all so beautiful, papa," she said, timidly. 
 "I have no way to tell you how I thank you." 
 
 "You may do that," he replied, evenly, with no 
 unkindness, with no kindness, either, in the level of 
 his tone, "by never dancing again more than twice 
 with one man in one evening." 
 
 "I think I should much prefer not, myself," she 
 returned, lifting her head to face him gravely. "I 
 believe if I cared to dance more than once with 
 one, I should like to dance all of them with him." 
 
 Mr. Carewe frowned. "I trust that you discov- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 49 
 
 ered none last night whom you wished to honor 
 with your entire programme?" 
 
 "No," she laughed, "not last night." 
 
 Her father tossed away his cigar abruptly. "Is 
 it too much to hope," he inquired, "that when you 
 discover a gentleman with whom you desire to waltz 
 all night, you will omit to mention the fact to him?" 
 
 There was a brief flash of her eye as she recalled 
 her impulse to take his hand, but she immediately 
 looked at him with such complete seriousness that 
 he feared his irony had been thrown away. 
 
 "I'll remember not to mention it," she answered. 
 'Til tell him you told me not to." 
 
 "I think you may retire now," said Mr. Care we, 
 sharply. 
 
 She rose from the steps, went to the door, then 
 turned at the threshold. "Were all your friends 
 here, papa?" 
 
 "Do you think that every ninny who gabbled hi 
 my house last night was my friend?" he said, an- 
 grily. "There was one friend of mine, Mrs. Tan- 
 berry, who wasn't here, because she is out of town; 
 but I do not imagine that you are inquiring about 
 women. You mean: Was every unmarried male 
 idiot who could afford a swallow-tailed coat and a 
 
50 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 clean pair of gloves cavorting about the place? 
 Yes, miss, they were all here except two, and one 
 of those is a fool, the other a knave." 
 
 "Can't I know the fool?" she asked, eagerly. 
 
 "I rejoice to find them so rare in your experience!" 
 he retorted. "This one is out of town, though I 
 have no doubt you will see him sufficiently often 
 when he returns. His name is Crailey Gray, and 
 he is to marry Fanchon Bereaud if he remembers !" 
 
 "And the knave?" 
 
 "Is one!" Carewe shut his teeth with a veno- 
 mous snap, and his whole face reddened suddenly. 
 "I'll mention this fellow once now," he said, 
 speaking each word with emphasis. "His name is 
 Vanrevel. You see that gate; you see the line of 
 my property there: the man himself, as well as 
 every other person in the town, remembers well that 
 the last time I spoke to him, it was to tell him that 
 if he ever set foot on ground of mine I'd shoot him 
 down, and he knows, and they all know, I shall keep 
 my word! Elsewhere, I told him that for the sake 
 of public peace, I should ignore him. I do. You 
 will see him everywhere; but it will not be difficult; 
 no one will have the hardihood to present him to 
 my daughter. The quarrel between us " Mr. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 51 
 
 Care we broke off for a moment, his hands clinch- 
 ing the arms of his chair, while he swallowed with 
 difficulty, as though he choked upon some acrid 
 bolus, and he was so strongly agitated by his own 
 mention of his enemy that he controlled himself by 
 a painful effort of his will. "The quarrel between 
 us is political and personal. You will remember." 
 
 "I shall remember," she answered in a rather 
 frightened voice. 
 
 . . . It was long before she fell asleep. "I 
 alone must hover about the gates or steal into 
 your garden like a thief," the Incroyable had said. 
 "The last time I spoke to him it was to tell him that 
 if he ever set foot on ground of mine, I'd shoot him 
 down!" had been her father's declaration. And 
 Mr. Carewe had spoken with the most undeniable 
 air of meaning what he said. Yet she knew that 
 the Incroyable would come again. 
 
 Also, with hot cheeks pressed into her pillow, 
 Miss Betty had identified the young man in the 
 white hat, that dark person whose hand she had far 
 too impetuously seized in both of hers. Aha! It 
 was this gentleman who looked into people's eyes 
 and stammered so sincerely over a pretty speech 
 that you almost believed him, it was he who was to 
 
52 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 marry Fanchon Bareaud "if he remembers!" No 
 wonder Fanchon had been in such a hurry to get him 
 away. . . . "If he remembers!' 9 Such was that 
 young man's character, was it? Miss Care we 
 laughed aloud to her pillow: for, was one to guess 
 the reason, also, of his not having come to her ball? 
 Had the poor man been commanded to be "out of 
 town?" 
 
 Then, remembering the piquant and generous 
 face of Fanchon, Betty clinched her fingers tightly 
 and crushed the imp who had suggested the un- 
 worthy thought, crushed him to a wretched pulp 
 and threw him out of the open window. He im- 
 mediately sneaked in by the back wa#, for, in spite 
 of her victory, she still felt a little sorry for poor 
 Fanchon. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 "BUT SPAKE YOUR COUNTRY'S FLAG" 
 
 IF it be true that love is the great incentive to 
 the useless arts, the number of gentlemen who 
 became poets for the sake of Miss Betty Ca- 
 rewe need not be considered extraordinary. Of all 
 that was written of her dancing, Tom Vanrevel's 
 lines, "I Danced with Her beneath the Lights" 
 (which he certainly had not done when he wrote 
 them) were, perhaps, next to Crailey Gray's in 
 merit, though Tom burned his rhymes after read- 
 ing them to Crailey. Other troubadours were not 
 so modest, and the Rouen Journal found no lack 
 of tuneful offering, that spring, generously print- 
 ing all of it, even at the period when it became 
 epidemic. The public had little difficulty in recog- 
 nizing the work of Mr. Francis Chenoweth in an 
 anonymous "Sonnet" (of twenty- three lines) which 
 appeared in the issue following Miss Carewe's debut. 
 Mr. Chenoweth wrote that while dancing the 
 mazotirka with a Lovely Being, the sweetest feel- 
 ings of his soul, in a celestial stream, bore him away 
 
 53 
 
54 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 beyond control, in a seraphic dream; and lie un- 
 truthfully stated that at the same time he saw her 
 wipe the silent tear, omitting, however, to venture 
 any explanation of the cause of her emotion. Old 
 General Trumble boldly signed his poem in full. 
 It was called "An Ode upon Miss C 's Waltzing," 
 and it began: 
 
 "When Bettina found fair Rouen 8 shore, 
 And her aged father to us bore 
 
 Her from the cloister neat, 
 She waltzed upon the ball-room floor, 
 
 And lightly twirled upon her feet." 
 
 Mr. Carewe was rightfully indignant, and re- 
 fused to acknowledge the General's salutation at 
 their next meeting: Trumble was fifteen years 
 older than he. 
 
 As Crailey Gray never danced with Miss Carewe, 
 it is somewhat singular that she should have been 
 the inspiration of his swinging verses in waltz 
 measure, "Heart-strings on a Violin," the sense of 
 which was that when a violin had played for her 
 dancing, the instrument should be shattered as 
 wine-glasses are after a great toast. However, no 
 one, except the author himself, knew that Betty 
 was the subject; for Crailey certainly did not men- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 55 
 
 tion it to Miss Bareaud, nor to his best friend, 
 Vanrevel. 
 
 It was to some degree a strange comradeship 
 between these two young men; their tastes led them 
 so often in opposite directions. They had rooms to- 
 gether over their offices in the "Madrillon Block" 
 on Main Street, and the lights shone late from 
 their windows every night in the year. Sometimes 
 that would mean only that the two friends were 
 talking, for they never reached a silent intimacy, 
 but, even after several years of companionship, 
 were rarely seen together when not in interested, 
 often eager, conversation, so that people wondered 
 what hi the world they still found to say to each 
 other. But many a night the late-shining lamp 
 meant that Tom sat alone, with a brief or a book, 
 or wooed the lorn hours with his magical guitar. 
 For he never went to bed until the other came home. 
 And if daylight came without Crailey, Vanrevel 
 would go out, yawning mightily, to look for him; 
 and when there was no finding him, Tom would 
 come back, sleepless, to the day's work. 
 
 Crailey was called "peculiar:" and he explained, 
 with a kind of jovial helplessness, that he was al- 
 ways prepared for the unexpected in himself, nor 
 
56 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 did such a view detract from his picturesqueness 
 to his own perusal of himself; though it was not 
 only to himself that he was interesting. To the 
 vision of the lookers-on in Rouen, quiet souls who 
 hovered along the walls at merry-makings and 
 cheerfully counted themselves spectators at the 
 play, Crailey Gray held the centre of the stage 
 and was the chief comedian of the place. Wit, 
 poet, and scapegrace, the small society sometimes 
 seemed the mere background set for his perform- 
 ances, spectacles which he, also, enjoyed, and from 
 the best seat in the house; for he was not content 
 as the actor, but must be the Prince in the box 
 as well. 
 
 His friendship for Tom Vanrevel was, in a meas- 
 ure, that of the vine for the oak. He was full of 
 levities at Tom's expense, which the other bore with 
 a grin of sympathetic comprehension, or, at long 
 intervals, returned upon Crailey with devastating 
 effect. Vanrevel was the one steadying thing in his 
 life, and, at the same time, the only one of the 
 young men upon whom he did not have an almost 
 mesmeric influence. In good truth, Crailey was the 
 ringleader in all the deviltries of the town. Many 
 a youth swore to avoid the roisterer's company for 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 57 
 
 all time, and, within two hours of the vow, found 
 himself, flagron in hand, engaged in a bout that 
 would last the night, with Mr. Gray out-bumpering 
 the hardiest, at the head of the table. And, the 
 next morning, the fevered, scarlet-eyed perjurer 
 might creep shaking to his wretched tasks, only 
 to behold the cause of his folly and headache trip- 
 ping merrily along the street, smiling, clean-shaven, 
 and fresh as a dew-born primrose, with, perchance s 
 two of the prettiest girls in town at his elbow to 
 greet his sallies with approving laughter. 
 
 Crailey had been so long in the habit of follow- 
 ing every impulse, no matter how mad, that he en- 
 joyed an almost perfect immunity from condemna- 
 tion, and, whatever his deeds, Rouen had learned to 
 say, with a chuckle, that it was "only Crailey Gray 
 again." But his followers were not so privileged. 
 Thus, when Mr. Gray, who in his libations some- 
 times developed the humor of an urchin, went to the 
 Pound at three in the morning of New Year's Day, 
 hung sleigh-bells about the necks of the cattle and 
 drove them up and down the streets, himself hide- 
 ously blowing a bass horn from the back of a big 
 brown steer, those roused from slumber ceased to 
 rage, and accepted the exploit as a rare joke, on 
 
58 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 learning that it was "only Crailey Gray;" but the 
 unfortunate young Chenoweth was heavily frowned 
 upon and properly upbraided because he had fol- 
 lowed in the wake of the bovine procession, mildly 
 attempting to play upon a flageolet. 
 
 Crailey never denied a folly nor defended an es- 
 capade. The latter was always done for him, be- 
 cause he talked of his "graceless misdoings" (so 
 he was wont, smilingly, to call the) over cups of 
 tea in the afternoons with old ladies, lamenting, in 
 his musical voice, the lack of female relatives to 
 guide him. He was charmingly attentive to the 
 elderly women, not from policy, but because his 
 manner was uncontrollably chivalrous; and, ever 
 a gallant listener, were the speaker young, old, 
 great or humble, he never forgot to catch the last 
 words of a sentence, and seldom suffered for a 
 reply, even when he had drowsed through a ques- 
 tion. Moreover, no one ever heard him speak a 
 sullen word, nor saw him wear a brow of depres- 
 sion. The single creed to which he was constant 
 was that of good cheer; he was the very apostle 
 of gayety, preaching it in parlor and bar; and made 
 merry friends with battered tramps and homeless 
 dogs in the streets at night. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 59 
 
 Now and then he would spend several days in 
 the offices of Gray & Vanrevel, Attorneys and 
 Counsellors-at-Law, wearing an air of unassailable 
 virtue; though he did not far overstate the case 
 when he said, "Tom does all the work and gives 
 me all the money not to bother him when he's get- 
 ting up a case." 
 
 The working member of the firm got up cases 
 to notable effect, and few lawyers in the State en- 
 joyed having Tom Vanrevel on the other side. 
 There was nothing about him of the floridity prev- 
 alent at that time; he withered "oratory" before 
 the court; he was the foe of jury pathos; and, de- 
 spising noise and the habitual voice-dip at the end 
 of a sentence, was, nevertheless, at times an almost 
 fearfully effective orator. So, by degrees the firm 
 of Gray & Vanrevel, young as it was, and in spite 
 of the idle apprentice, had grown to be the most 
 prosperous in the district. For this eminence Crai- 
 ley was never accused of assuming the credit. Nor 
 did he ever miss an opportunity of making known 
 how much he owed to his partner. What he owed, 
 in brief, was everything. How well Vanrevel worked 
 was demonstrated every day, but how hard he 
 worked, only Crailey knew. The latter had grown 
 
60 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 to depend upon him for even his political beliefs, 
 and lightly followed his partner into Abolitionism; 
 though that was to risk unpopularity, bitter hatred, 
 and worse. Fortunately, on certain occasions, Van- 
 revel had made himself (if not his creed) respected, 
 at least so far that there was no longer danger of 
 mob- violence for an Abolitionist in Rouen. He was 
 a cool-headed young man ordinarily, and possessed 
 of an elusive forcefulness not to be trifled with, 
 though he was a quiet man, and had what they called 
 a "fine manner." And, not in the latter, but in his 
 dress, there was an echo of the Beau, which afforded 
 Mr. Gray a point of attack for sallies of wit; there 
 was a touch of the dandy about Vanrevel; he had a 
 large and versatile wardrobe, and his clothes always 
 fit him not only in line but in color; even women 
 saw how nobly they were fashioned. 
 
 These two young men were members of a cheer- 
 ful band, who feasted, laughed, wrangled over poli- 
 tics, danced, made love, and sang terrible chords on 
 summer evenings, together, as young men will. 
 Will Cummings, editor of the Rouen Journal, was 
 one of these; a tall, sallow man, very thin, very 
 awkward and very gentle. Mr. Cummings proved 
 himself always ready with a loud and friendly 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 61 
 
 laugh for the poorest joke in the world, his counte- 
 nance shining with such kindness that no one ever 
 had the heart to reproach him with the evils of his 
 journalistic performances, or for the things he broke 
 when he danced. Another was Tappingham Marsh, 
 an exceedingly handsome person, somewhat languid 
 in appearance, dainty in manner with women, off- 
 hand with men; almost as reckless as Crailey, and 
 often the latter's companion and assistant in dis- 
 sipation. Young Francis Chenoweth never failed 
 to follow both into whatever they planned; he was 
 short and pink, and the uptilt of his nose was co- 
 herent with the appealing earnestness which was 
 habitual with him. Eugene Madrillon was the 
 sixth of these intimates; a dark man, whose Latin 
 eyes and color advertised his French ancestry as 
 plainly as his emotionless mouth and lack of gesture 
 betrayed the mingling of another strain. 
 
 All these, and others of the town, were wont to 
 "talk politics" a great deal at the little club on 
 Main Street, and all were apt to fall foul of Tom 
 Vanrevel or Crailey Gray before the end of any dis- 
 cussion. For those were the days when they twisted 
 the Lion's tail in vehement and bitter earnest; when 
 the eagle screamed in mixed figures; when few men 
 
62 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 knew how to talk, and many orated; when party 
 strife was savagely personal; when intolerance was 
 called the "pure fire of patriotism;" when criticism 
 of the existing order of things surely incurred fiery 
 anathema and black invective; and brave was he, 
 indeed, who dared to hint that his country, as a 
 whole and politically, did lack some two or three 
 particular virtues, and that the first step toward 
 obtaining them would be to help it to realize their 
 absence. 
 
 This latter point-of-view was that of the firm 
 of Gray & Vanrevel, which was a unit in such 
 matters. Crailey did most of the talking quite 
 beautifully, too and both had to stand against 
 odds in many a sour argument, for they were not 
 only Abolitionists, but opposed the attitude of their 
 country in its difficulty with Mexico; and, in com- 
 mon with other men of the time who took their 
 stand, they had to grow accustomed to being called 
 Disloyal Traitors, Foreign Toadies, Malignants, and 
 Traducers of the Flag. Tom had long been used to 
 epithets of this sort, suffering their sting in quiet, 
 and was glad when he could keep Crailey out of 
 worse employment than standing firm for an un- 
 popular belief. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 63 
 
 There was one place to which Vanrevel, seeking 
 his friend and partner, when the latter did not come 
 home at night, could not go; this was the Tower 
 Chamber, and it was in that mysterious apartment 
 of the Carewe cupola that Crailey was apt to be 
 deeply occupied when he remained away until day- 
 light. Strange as it appears, Mr. Gray maintained 
 peculiar relations of intimacy with Robert Carewe, 
 in spite of the feud between Carewe and his own 
 best friend. This intimacy, which did not neces- 
 sarily imply any mutual fondness (though Crailey 
 seemed to dislike nobody), was betokened by a 
 furtive understanding, of a sort, between them. 
 They held brief, earnest conversations on the street, 
 or in corners when they met at other people's houses, 
 always speaking in voices too low to be overheard; 
 and they exercised a mysterious symbolism, some- 
 what in the manner of fellow-members of a secret 
 society: they had been observed to communicate 
 across crowded rooms, by lifted eyebrows, nod of 
 head, or a surreptitious turn of the wrist: so that 
 those who observed them knew that a question had 
 been asked and answered. 
 
 It was noticed, also, that there were five other 
 initiates to this masonry: Eugene Madrillon, the 
 
64 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 elder Chenoweth, General Trumble, Tappingham 
 Marsh, and Jefferson Bereaud. Thus, on the after- 
 noon following Miss Betty's introduction to Rouen's 
 favorite sons and daughters, Mr. Carewe, driving 
 down Main Street, held up one forefinger to Ma- 
 drillon as he saw the young man turning hi at the 
 club. Eugene nodded gravely, and, as he went in, 
 discovering Marsh, the General, and others, listening 
 to Mr. Gray's explanation of his return from the 
 river with no fish, stealthily held up one finger in 
 his turn. Trumble replied with a wink. Tapping- 
 ham nodded, but Crailey slightly shook his head. 
 Marsh and the General started with surprise, and 
 stared incredulously. That Crailey should shake his 
 head! If the signal had been for a church-meeting 
 they might have understood. 
 
 Mr. Gray's conduct was surprising two other 
 people at about the same time: Tom Vanrevel and 
 Fanchon Bareaud; the former by his sudden de- 
 votion to the law; the latter by his sudden devotion 
 to herself. In a breath, he became almost a domes- 
 tic character. No more did he spend his afternoons 
 between the club and the Rouen House bar, nor 
 was his bay mare so often seen stamping down the 
 ground about Mrs. McDougal's hitching-post while 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 65 
 
 McDougal was out on the prairie with his engineer- 
 ing squad. The idle apprentice was at his desk, and 
 in the daytime he displayed an aversion for the 
 streets, which was more than his partner did, for 
 the industrious Tom, undergoing quite as remark- 
 able an alteration of habit, became, all at once, 
 little better than a corner-loafer. His favorite 
 lounging-place was a small drug-store where Carewe 
 Street debouched upon Main; nevertheless, so ad- 
 hesive is a reputation once fastened, his air of being 
 there upon business deceived everyone except Mr. 
 Gray. 
 
 Miss Bareau was even happier than she was as- 
 tonished (and she was mightily astonished) to find 
 her betrothed developing a taste for her society 
 alone. Formerly, she had counted upon the gay- 
 eties of her home to keep Crailey near her; now, 
 however, he told her tenderly he wished to have her 
 all to himself. This was not like him, but Fanchon 
 did not question; and it was very sweet to her that 
 he began to make it his custom to come in by a side 
 gate and meet her under an apple-tree in the dusk, 
 where they would sit quietly together through the 
 evening, listening to the noise and laughter from 
 the lighted house. 
 
66 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 That house was the most hospitable in Rouen. 
 Always cheerfully "full of company," as they said, 
 it was the sort of house where a carpet-dance could 
 be arranged in half an hour; a house with a side- 
 board like the widow's cruse; the young men always 
 found more. Mrs. Bareaud, a Southerner, loving to 
 persuade the visitor that her home was his, not 
 hers, lived only for her art, which was that of the 
 table. Evil cooks, taking service with her, became 
 virtuous, dealt with nectar and ambrosia, and grew 
 fit to pander to Olympus, learning of their mistress 
 secrets to make the ill-disposed as genial gods ere 
 they departed. Mr. Bareaud at fifty had lived so 
 well that he gave up walking, which did not trouble 
 him; but at sixty he gave up dancing, which did 
 trouble him. His only hope, he declared, was in 
 Crailey Gray's promise to invent for him a concave 
 partner 
 
 There was a thin, quizzing shank of a son, Jef- 
 ferson, who lived upon quinine, ague and deviltry; 
 and there were the two daughters, Fanchon and 
 Virginia. The latter was three years older than 
 Fanchon, as dark as Fanchon was fair, though not 
 nearly so pretty: a small, good-natured, romping 
 sprite of a girl, who had handed down the heart 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 67 
 
 and hand of Crailey Gray to her sister with the 
 best grace in the world. For she had been the 
 heroine of one of Mr. Gray's half-dozen or so most 
 serious affairs, and, after a furious rivalry with Mr. 
 Carewe, the victory was generally conceded to 
 Crailey. His triumph had been of about a fort- 
 night's duration when Fanchon returned from St. 
 Mary's; and, with the advent of the younger sister, 
 the elder, who had decided that Crailey was the 
 incomparable she had dreamed of since infancy, was 
 generously allowed to discover that he was not that 
 vision that she had fallen in love with her own 
 idea of him; whereas Fanchon cared only that he 
 be Crailey Gray, whatever kind of vision that was. 
 And Fanchon discovered that it was a great many 
 kinds. 
 
 The transfer was made comfortably, with nice 
 judgment of a respectable interregnum, and to the 
 greater happiness of each of the three young peo 
 pie; no objection ensuing from the easy-going par- 
 ents, who were devotedly fond of Crailey, while 
 the town laughed and said it was only that absurd 
 Crailey Gray again. He and Virginia were the best 
 of friends, and accepted their new relation with a 
 preposterous lack of embarrassment. 
 
68 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 To be in love with Crailey became Fanchon's vo- 
 cation; she spent all her time at it, and produced 
 a blurred effect upon strangers. The only man 
 with whom she seemed quite alive was Vanrevel: a 
 little because Tom talked of Crailey, and a great 
 deal because she could talk of Crailey to Tom; 
 could tell him freely, as she could tell no one else, 
 how wonderful Crailey was, and explain to him her 
 lover's vagaries on the ground that it was a neces- 
 sity of geniuses to be unlike the less gifted. Nor 
 was she alone in suspecting Mr. Gray of genius: 
 in the first place, he was so odd; in the second, his 
 poems were "already attracting more than local 
 attention," as the Journal remarked, generously, for 
 Crailey had ceased to present his rhymes to that 
 valuable paper. Ay! Boston, no less, was his mart. 
 
 He was rather radical in his literary preferences, 
 and hurt the elder Chenoweth's feelings by laugh- 
 ing heartily at some poems of the late Lord Byron; 
 offended many people by disliking the style of Sir 
 Edward Bulwer, and even refused to admit that 
 James Fenimore Cooper was the greatest novelist 
 that ever lived. But these things were as nothing 
 compared with his unpatriotic defence of Charles 
 Dickens. Many Americans had fallen into a great 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 69 
 
 rage over the vivacious assault upon the United 
 States in "Martin Chuzzlewit"; nevertheless, Crailey 
 still boldly hailed him (as everyone had heretofore 
 agreed) the most dexterous writer of his day and the 
 most notable humorist of any day. Of course the 
 Englishman had not visited and thoroughly studied 
 such a city as Rouen, Crailey confessed, twinklingly; 
 but, after all, wasn't there some truth in "Martin 
 Chuzzlewit?" Mr. Dickens might have been far 
 from a clear understanding of our people; but didn't 
 it argue a pretty ticklish vanity in ourselves that we 
 were so fiercely resentful of satire; and was not this 
 very heat over "Martin Chuzzlewit" a confirmation 
 of one of the points the book had presented against 
 us? General Trumble replied to this suggestion with 
 a personal one to the effect that a man capable of 
 saying a good word for so monstrous a slander, that 
 a man, sir, capable of declaring his native country to 
 be vain or sensitive ought to be horsewhipped, and 
 at this Crailey laughed consumedly. 
 
 Trumble retorted with the names of Benedict 
 Arnold and Aaron Burr. "And if it comes to a 
 war with these Greasers," he spluttered apoplecti- 
 cally, "and it is coming, mighty soon, we'll find 
 Mr. Gray down in Mexico, throwing mud on the 
 
70 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Stars and Stripes and cheering for that one-legged 
 horse- thief, Santa Anna! Anything to seek out 
 something foolish amongst your own people!" 
 
 "Don't have to seek far, sometimes, General," 
 murmured Crailey, from the depths of the best 
 chair in the club, whereupon Truinble, not trusting 
 himself to answer, went out to the street. 
 
 And yet, before that same evening was over, the 
 General had shed honest tears of admiration and 
 pity for Crailey Gray; and Miss Betty saw her In- 
 croyable again, for that night (the second after the 
 Carewe dance) Rouen beheld the great warehouse 
 fire. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 NERO NOT THE LAST VIOLINIST OF HIS KIND 
 
 MISS CAREWE was at her desk, writing 
 to Sister Cecilia, whom she most loved of 
 all the world, when the bells startled her 
 with their sudden clangor. The quill dropped 
 from her hand; she started to her feet, wide-eyed, 
 not understanding; while the whole town, drows- 
 ing peacefully a moment ago, resounded immedi- 
 ately with a loud confusion. She ran to the front 
 door and looked out, her heart beating wildly. 
 
 The western sky was touched with a soft rose- 
 color, which quickly became a warm glow, fluc- 
 tuated, and, in the instant, shot up like the coming 
 of a full Aurora. Then through the broken foliage 
 of the tree-tops could be seen the orange curls of 
 flames, three-quarters of a mile away though they 
 were. 
 
 People, calling loudly that "it was Carewe's 
 warehouses," were running down the street. From 
 the stable, old Nelson, on her father's best horse, 
 
 came galloping, and seeing the white figure in the 
 
 71 
 
72 THE TWO VANHEVELS 
 
 doorway, cried out in a quavering voice, without 
 checking his steed: 
 
 "I goin' tell yo* pa, Miss Betty; he in de kentry 
 on Ian' bus'ness. Go back in de house, Missy!" 
 
 The other servants, like ragged sketches in the 
 night, flitted by, with excited ejaculations, to join 
 the runners, and Miss Betty followed them across 
 the dew-strewn turf in her light slippers, but at 
 the gate she stopped. 
 
 From up the street came the sound of a bell 
 smaller than those of the churches and court-house, 
 yet one that outdid all others in the madness of its 
 appeal to clear the way. It was borne along by wha^ 
 seemed at first an indefinite black mass, but which 
 as the Aurora grew keener, producing even here a 
 faint, yellow twilight resolved itself into a mob of 
 hoarsely-shouting men and boys, who were running 
 and tugging at ropes, which drew along three 
 extraordinary vehicles. They came rapidly down 
 the street and passed Miss Betty with a hubbub and 
 din beyond all understanding; one line of men, 
 most of them in red shirts and oil-cloth helmets, at 
 a dead run with the hose-cart; a second line with the 
 hand-engine; the third dragging the ladder- wagon. 
 One man was riding, a tall, straight gentleman in 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 73 
 
 evening clothes and without a hat, who stood pre- 
 cariously in the hose-cart, calling in an annoyed 
 tone through a brazen trumpet. Miss Betty recog- 
 nized him at once; it was he who caught her kitten; 
 and she thought that if she had been Fanchon 
 Bareaud she must have screamed a warning, for his 
 balance appeared a thing of mere luck, and, if he 
 fell, he would be trampled under foot and probably 
 run over by the engine. But, happily (she remem- 
 bered), she was not Fanchon Bareaud! 
 
 Before, behind, and beside the Department, raced 
 a throng of boys, wild with the joy experienced by 
 their species when property is being handsomely 
 destroyed; after them came panting women, hold- 
 ing their side and gasping with the effort to keep 
 up with the flying procession. 
 
 Miss Betty trembled, for she had never seen the 
 like in her life; she stood close to the hedge and 
 let them go by; then she turned in after them and 
 ran like a fleet young deer. She was going to the 
 fire. 
 
 Over all the uproar could be heard the angry 
 voice through the trumpet, calling the turns of the 
 streets to the men in the van, upbraiding them and 
 those of the other two companies impartially; and 
 
74 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 few of his hearers denied the chief his right to 
 express some chagrin; since the Department (organ- 
 ized a half-year, hard -drilled, and this its first fire 
 worth the name) was late on account of the refusal 
 of the members to move until they had donned their 
 new uniforms; for the uniforms had arrived from 
 Philadelphia two months ago, and to-night offered 
 the first opportunity to display them in public 
 
 "Hail Vanrevel!" panted Tappingham Marsh to 
 Eugene Madrillon, as the two, running in the van 
 of the "Hose Company," splattered through a mud- 
 puddle. "You'd think he was Carewe's only son 
 and heir instead of his worst enemy. Hark to 
 the man !" 
 
 "I'd let it burn, if I were he," returned the other. 
 
 "It was all Crailey's fault," said Tappingham, 
 swinging an arm free to wipe the spattered mud 
 from his face. "He swore he wouldn't budge 
 without his uniform, and the rest only backed him 
 up; that was all. Crailey said Carewe could better 
 afford to lose his shanties than the overworked 
 Department its first chance to look beautiful and 
 earnest. Tom asked him why he didn't send for 
 a fiddle," Marsh finished with a chuckle. 
 
 "Carewe might afford to lose a little, even a 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 75 
 
 warehouse or two, if only out of what he's taken 
 from Crailey and the rest of us, these three years!" 
 
 "Taken from Vanrevel, you mean. Who doesn't 
 know where Crailey 's Here's Main Street; look 
 out for the turn !" 
 
 They swung out of the thick shadows of Carewe 
 Street into full view of the fire, and their faces 
 were illuminated as by sunrise. 
 
 The warehouses stood on the river-bank, at the 
 foot of the street, just south of the new "covered 
 bridge." There were four of them, huge, bare- 
 sided buildings; the two nearer the bridge of brick, 
 the others of wood, and all of them rich with stores 
 of every kind of river-merchandise and costly 
 freight: furniture that had voyaged from New 
 England down the long coast, across the Mexican 
 Gulf, through the flat Delta, and had made the 
 winding journey up the great river a thousand 
 miles, and almost a thousand more, following the 
 greater and lesser tributaries; cloth jfrom Connecti- 
 cut that had been sold in Philadelphia, then carried 
 over mountains and through forests by steam, by 
 canal, *by stage, and six-mule freight-wagons, to 
 Pittsburg, down the Ohio, and thence up to Rouen 
 on the packet; Tennessee cotton, on its way to 
 
76 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Massachusetts and Rhode Island spindles, lay there 
 beside huge mounds of raw wool from Illinois, ready 
 to be fed to the Rouen mill; dates and nuts from 
 the Caribbean Sea; lemons from groves of the far- 
 away tropics; cigars from the Antilles; tobacco 
 from Virginia and Kentucky; most precious of all, 
 the great granary of the farmers' wheat from the 
 level fields at home; and all the rich stores and the 
 houses that held them, as well as the whanres upon 
 which they had been landed, and the steamers that 
 brought them up the Rouen River, belonged to 
 Robert Carewe. 
 
 That it was her father's property which was 
 imperilled attested to the justification of Miss Betty 
 in running to a fire; and, as she followed the crowd 
 into Main Street, she felt a not unpleasant proprie- 
 tary interest in the spectacle. Very opposite sen- 
 sations animated the breast of the man with the 
 trumpet, who was more acutely conscious than any 
 other that these were Robert Carewe's possessions 
 which were burning so handsomely. Nor was he 
 the only one among the firemen who ground his 
 teeth over the folly of the uniforms; for no*w they 
 could plainly see the ruin being wrought, the devas- 
 tation threatened. The two upper stories of the 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 77 
 
 southernmost warehouse had swathed themselves in 
 one great flame; the building next on the north, 
 also of frame, was smoking heavily; and there was 
 a wind from the southwest, which, continuing with 
 the fire unchecked, threatened the town itself. 
 There was work for the Volunteer Brigade that 
 night. 
 
 They came down Main Street with a rush, the 
 figure of their chief swaying over them on his high 
 perch, while their shouting was drowned in the 
 louder roar of greeting from the crowd, into which 
 they plunged as a diver into the water, swirls and 
 eddies of people marking the wake. A moment 
 later a section of the roof of the burning warehouse 
 fell in, with a sonorous and reverberating crash. 
 
 The "Engine Company" ran the force-pump out 
 to the end of one of the lower wharves; two lines 
 of pipe were attached; two rows of men mounted 
 the planks for the pumpers, and, at the word of 
 command, began the up-and-down of the hand- 
 machine with admirable vim. Nothing happened; 
 the water did not come; something appeared to 
 be wrong with the mechanism. As everyone felt 
 the crucial need of haste, nothing could have been 
 more natural than that all the members of the 
 
78 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Engine Company" should simultaneously endeavor 
 to repair the defect; therefore ensued upon the spot 
 a species of riot which put the engine out of its 
 sphere of usefulness. 
 
 In the meantime, fifty or sixty men and boys 
 who ran with the machines, but who had no place 
 in their operation, being the Bucket Brigade, had 
 formed a line and were throwing large pails of water 
 in the general direction of the southernmost ware- 
 house, which it was now impossible to save; while 
 the gentlemen of the "Hook-and-Ladder Company," 
 abandoning their wagons, and armed with axes, 
 heroically assaulted the big door of the granary, the 
 second building, whence they were driven by the 
 exasperated chief, who informed them that the only 
 way to save the wheat was to save the building. 
 Crailey Gray, one of the berated axemen, remained 
 by the shattered door after the others had gone, and, 
 struck by a sudden thought, set his hand upon the 
 iron latch and opened the door by this simple process. 
 It was not locked. Crailey leaned against the case- 
 ment and laughed with his whole soul and body. 
 
 Meanwhile, by dint of shouting in men's ears 
 when near them, through the trumpet when distant, 
 tearing axes from their hands, imperiously gesticu- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 79 
 
 lating to subordinate commanders, and lingering in 
 no one spot for more than a second, Mr. Vanrevel 
 reduced his forces to a semblance of order in a 
 remarkably short time, considering the confusion 
 into which they had fallen. 
 
 The space between the burning warehouse and 
 that next it was not more than fifty feet in width, 
 but fifty feet so hot no one took thought of entering 
 there; an area as discomfiting in appearance as it 
 was beautiful with the thick rain of sparks and 
 firebrands that fell upon it. But the chief had 
 decided that this space must be occupied, and more? 
 must be held, since it was the only point of defence 
 for the second warehouse. The roof of this build- 
 ing would burn, which would mean the destruction 
 of the warehouse, unless it could be mounted, 
 because the streams of water could not play upon 
 it from the ground, nor, from the ladders, do much 
 more than wet the projecting eaves. It was a gable 
 roof, the eaves twenty feet lower on the south side 
 than on the north, where the ladders could not 
 hope to reach them. Vanrevel swung his line of 
 bucketeers round to throw water, not upon the 
 flames, but upon the ladder-men. 
 
 Miss Carewe stood in the crowd upon the opposite 
 
80 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 side of the broad street. Even there her cheeks 
 were uncomfortably hot, and sometimes she had to 
 brush a spark from her shoulder, though she was 
 too much excited to mind this. She was watching the 
 beautiful fiery furnace between the north wall of the 
 burning warehouse and the south wall of its neighbor, 
 the fifty feet brilliant and misty with vaporous rose- 
 color, dotted with the myriad red stars, her eyes 
 shining with the reflection of their fierce beauty. 
 She saw how the vapors moved there, like men 
 walking in fire, and she was vaguely recalling Shad- 
 rach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, when, over the 
 silhouetted heads of the crowd before her, a long 
 black ladder rose, wobbled, tilted crazily, then lamely 
 advanced and ranged itself against the south wall 
 of the second warehouse, its top rung striking ten 
 feet short of the eaves. She hoped that no one had 
 any notion of mounting that ladder. 
 
 A figure appeared upon it immediately, that of 
 a gentleman, bareheaded and in evening dress, with 
 a brass trumpet swinging from a cord about his 
 shoulders; the noise grew less; the shouting died 
 away, and the crowd became almost silent, as the 
 figure, climbing slowly, drew up above their heads. 
 Two or three rungs beneath, came a second a man 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 81 
 
 in helmet and uniform. The clothes of both men, 
 drenched by the bucketeers, clung to them, steaming. 
 As the second figure mounted, a third appeared; 
 but this was the last, for the ladder was frail, and 
 sagged toward the smoking wall with the weight of 
 the three. 
 
 The chief, three-fourths of the way to the top, 
 shouted down a stifled command, and a short grap- 
 pling-ladder, fitted at one end with a pair of spiked 
 iron hooks, was passed to him. Then he toiled 
 upward until his feet rested on the third rung from 
 the top; here he turned, setting his back to the wall, 
 lifted the grappling-ladder high over his head so 
 that it rested against the eaves above him, and 
 brought it down sharply, fastening the spiked hooks 
 in the roof. As the eaves projected fully three feet, 
 this left the grappling-ladder hanging that distance 
 out from the wall, its lowest rung a little above the 
 level of the chief's shoulders. 
 
 Miss Betty drew in her breath with a little choked 
 cry. There was a small terraced hill of piled-up 
 packing-boxes near her, possession of which had 
 been taken by a company of raggamuffinish boys, 
 and she found herself standing on the highest box 
 and sharing the summit with these questionable 
 
82 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 youths, almost without noting her action in mount- 
 ing thither, so strained was the concentration of 
 her attention upon the figure high up in the rose- 
 glow against the warehouse wall. The man, surely, 
 surely, was not going to trust himself to that bit 
 of wooden web hanging from the roof! Where was 
 Miss Bareaud that she permitted it? Ah, if Betty 
 had been Fanchon, and madwoman enough to have 
 accepted this madman, she would have compelled 
 him to come down at once, and thereafter would 
 lock him up in the house whenever the bells rang! 
 But the roof was to be mounted or Robert Carewe's 
 property lost. Already little flames were dancing up 
 from the shingles, where firebrands had fallen, their 
 number increasing with each second. So Vanrevel 
 raised his arms, took a hard grip upon the lowest 
 rung of the grappling-ladder and tried it with his 
 weight; the iron hooks bit deeper into the roof; they 
 held. He swung himself out into the air with nothing 
 beneath him, caught the rung under his knee, and 
 for a moment hung there, while the crowd withheld 
 from breathing; then a cloud of smoke, swirling that 
 way, made him the mere ghostly nucleus of itself, 
 blotted him out altogether, and, as it rose slowly 
 upward, showed the ladder free and empty, so that 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 83 
 
 at first there was an instant when they thought 
 that he had fallen. But, as the srnoke cleared, there 
 was the tall figure on the roof. 
 
 It was an agile and a daring thing to do, and the 
 man who did it was mightily applauded. The 
 cheering bothered him, however, for he was trying 
 to make them understand, below, what would hap- 
 pen to the "Engine Company" in case the water was 
 not sent through the lines directly; and what he 
 said should be done to the engineers included things 
 that would have blanched the cheek of the most 
 inventive Spanish Inquisitor that ever lived. 
 
 Miss Betty made a gesture as if to a person 
 within whispering distance. "Your coat is on 
 fire," she said in an ordinary conversational tone, 
 without knowing she had spoken aloud, and Mr. 
 Vanrevel, more than one hundred feet away, seemed 
 particularly conscious of the pertinence of her 
 remark. He removed the garment with alacrity, 
 and, for the lack of the tardy water, began to use 
 it as a flail upon the firebrands and little flames 
 about him; the sheer desperate best of a man in a 
 rage, doing what he could when others failed him. 
 Showers of sparks fell upon him; the smoke was 
 rising everywhere from the roof and the walls 
 
84 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 below; and, growing denser and denser, shrouded 
 him in heavy veils, so that, as he ran hither and 
 thither, now visible, now unseen, stamping and 
 beating and sweeping away the brands that fell, 
 he seemed but the red and ghostly caricature of a 
 Xerxes, ineffectually lashing the sea. They were 
 calling to him imploringly to come down, in heaven's 
 name to come down! 
 
 The second man had followed to the top of the 
 ladder against the wall, and there he paused, wait- 
 ing to pass up the line of hose when the word should 
 come that the force-pump had been repaired; but 
 the people thought that he waited because he was 
 afraid to trust himself to the grappling-ladder. 
 He was afraid, exceedingly afraid; though that 
 was not why he waited; and he was still chuckling 
 over the assault of the axes. 
 
 His situation had not much the advantage of 
 that of the chief: his red shirt might have been 
 set with orange jewels, so studded it was with the 
 flying sparks; and, a large brand dropping upon 
 his helmet, he threw up his hand to dislodge it and 
 lost the helmet. The great light fell upon his fair 
 hair and smiling face, and it was then that Miss 
 Betty recognized the Incroyable of her garden. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE EVER UNPRACTICAL FEMININE 
 
 IT was an investigating negro child of tender 
 years, who, possessed of a petty sense of cause 
 and effect, brought an illuminative simplicity 
 to bear upon the problem of the force-pump; and a 
 multitudinous agitation greeted his discovery that 
 the engineers had forgotten to connect their pipes 
 with the river. 
 
 This naive omission was fatal to the second ware- 
 house; the wall burst into flame below Crailey Gray, 
 who clung to the top of the ladder, choking, stifled, 
 and dizzily fighting the sparks that covered him, 
 yet still clutching the nozzle of the hose-line they 
 had passed to him. When the stream at last leaped 
 forth, making the nozzle fight in his grasp, he sent 
 it straight up into the air and let the cataract fall 
 back upon himself and upon the two men beneath 
 him on the ladder. 
 
 There came a moment of blessed relief; and he 
 looked out over the broad rosy blur of faces in the 
 
 street, where no one wondered more than he how 
 
 85 
 
86 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 the water was to reach the roof. Suddenly he started, 
 wiped his eyes with his wet sleeve, and peered intently 
 down from under the shading arm. His roving lance 
 crossed the smoke and flame to rest upon a tall, 
 white figure that stood, full-length above the heads 
 of the people, upon a pedestal wrought with the 
 grotesque images of boys: a girl's figure, still as 
 noon, enrapt, like the statue of some young goddess 
 for whom were made these sacrificial pyres. Mr. 
 Gray recognized his opportunity. 
 
 A blackened and unrecognizable face peered down 
 from the eaves, and the voice belonging to it said, 
 angrily: 
 
 "Why didn't they send up that line before they 
 put the water through it?" 
 
 "Never mind, Tom," answered Crailey cheer- 
 fully, "I'll bring it up." 
 
 "You can't; I'll come down for it. Don't be 
 every kind of a fool !" 
 
 "You want a monopoly, do you?" And Crailey, 
 calling to Tappingham Marsh, next below him, to 
 come higher, left the writhing nozzle in the latter's 
 possession, swung himself out upon the grappling- 
 ladder, imitating the chief's gymnastics, and immedi- 
 ately, one hand grasping the second rung, one knee 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 87 
 
 crooked over the lowest, leaned head down and took 
 the nozzle from Marsh. It was a heavy weight, and 
 though Marsh supported the line beneath it, the 
 great stream hurtling forth made it a difficult thing 
 to manage, for it wriggled, recoiled and struggled 
 as if it had been alive. Crailey made three attempts 
 to draw himself up; but the strain was too much 
 for his grip, and on the third attempt his fingers 
 melted from the rung, and he swung down fear- 
 fully, hanging by his knee, but still clinging to the 
 nozzle. 
 
 "Give it up, Crailey; it isn't worth it," Vanrevel 
 called from overhead, not daring the weight of both 
 on the light grappling-ladder. 
 
 But though Crailey cared no more for the saving 
 of Robert Carewe's property than for a butterfly's 
 wing in China, he could not give up now, any more 
 than as a lad he could have forborne to turn somer- 
 saults when the prettiest little girl looked out of 
 the school-house window. He passed the nozzle to 
 Tappingharn, caught the second rung with his left 
 hand, and, once more hanging head downward, 
 seized the nozzle; then, with his knee hooked tight, 
 as the gushing water described a huge semicircle 
 upon the smoke and hot vapor, he made a mad 
 
88 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 lurch through the air, while women shrieked; but 
 he landed upright, half-sitting on the lowest rung. 
 He climbed the grappling-ladder swiftly, in spite of 
 the weight and contortions of the unmanageable 
 beast he carried with him; Tom leaned far down 
 and took it from him; and Crailey, passing the eaves, 
 fell, exhausted, upon the roof. Just as he reached 
 this temporary security, a lady was borne, fainting, 
 out of the acclaiming crowd. Fanchon was there. 
 
 Word had been passed to the gentlemen of the 
 "Engine Company" to shut off the water in order 
 to allow the line to be carried up the ladder, and 
 they received the command at the moment Tom 
 lifted the nozzle, so that the stream dried up in his 
 hands. This was the last straw, and the blackened, 
 singed and scarred chief, setting the trumpet to his 
 lips, gave himself entirely to wrath. 
 
 It struck Crailey, even as he lay, coughing and 
 weeping with smoke, that there was something 
 splendid and large in the other's rage. Vanrevel 
 was ordinarily so steady and cool that this was 
 worth seeing, this berserker gesture; worth hearing, 
 this wonderful profanity, like Washington's one fit 
 of cursing; and Crailey, knowing Tom, knew, too, 
 that it had not come upon him because Carewe had 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 89 
 
 a daughter into whose eyes Tom had looked; nor did 
 he rage because he believed that Crailey's life and 
 his were in the greater hazard for the lack of every 
 drop of water that should have issued from the empty 
 nozzle. Their lungs were burdened with smoke, 
 while the intolerable smarting of throat, eyes, and 
 nostrils was like the incision of a thousand needles 
 in the membranes; their clothes were luminous with 
 glowing circles where the sparks were eating; the 
 blaze widened on the wall beneath them, and Marsh 
 was shouting hoarsely that he could no longer hold 
 his position on the ladder; yet Crailey knew that 
 none of this was in Tom's mind as he stood, scorched, 
 blistered, and haggard, on the edge of the roof, 
 shaking his fist at the world. It was because his 
 chance of saving the property of a man he despised 
 was being endangered. 
 
 Crailey stretched forth a hand and touched his 
 friend's knee. "Your side of the conversation is 
 a trifle loud, Tom," he said. "Miss Carewe is down 
 there, across the street, on a pile of boxes." 
 
 Tom stopped in the middle of a word, for which 
 he may have received but half a black stroke from 
 the recording angel. He wheeled toward the street, 
 and, shielding his inflamed eyes with his hand, 
 
90 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 gazed downward in a stricken silence. From that 
 moment Mr. Vanrevel's instructions to his followers 
 were of a decorum at which not the meekest Sunday- 
 school scholar dare have cavilled. 
 
 The three men now on the long ladder, Marsh, 
 Eugene Madrillon, and Will Cummings, found their 
 position untenable; for the flames, reaching all along 
 the wall, were licking at the ladder itself between 
 Marsh and Eugene. "I can't stand this any longer," 
 gasped Tappingham, "but I can't leave those two 
 up there, either." 
 
 "Not alone," shouted Cummings from beneath 
 Madrillon. "Let's go up." 
 
 Thus it happened, that when the water came 
 again, and Vanrevel let it fall in a grateful cascade 
 upon Crailey and himself, three manly voices were 
 heard singing, as three men toiled through the 
 billows of rosy gray, below the beleaguered pair: 
 
 "Oh the noble Duke of York, 
 
 He had ten thousand men; 
 He marched them up the side of a house. 
 And marched them down againl" 
 
 A head appeared above the eaves, and Marsh, 
 then Eugene, then Cummings, came crawling over 
 the cornice in turn, to join their comrades. They 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 91 
 
 were a gallant band, those young gentlemen of 
 Rouen, and they came with the ironical song on 
 their lips, and, looking at one another, ragged and 
 scarified, burst into hoarse but indomitable laughter. 
 
 Two others made an attempt to follow, and would 
 not be restrained. It was noticed that parts of the 
 lower ladder had been charring; and the ladder- 
 men were preparing to remove it to a less dangerous 
 point, when old General Trumble and young Jeffer- 
 son Bareaud made a rush to mount it, and were 
 well upon their upward way before the ladder, 
 weakened at the middle, sagged, splintered, and 
 broke, Trumble and Bareaud falling with it. And 
 there was the grappling-ladder, dangling forty feet 
 above the ground; and there were the five upon 
 the roof. 
 
 The Department had no other ladder of more 
 than half the length of the shattered one. Not 
 only the Department, but every soul in Rouen, 
 knew that; and there rose the thick, low sigh of a 
 multitude, a sound frightful to hear. It became 
 a groan, then swelled into a deep cry of alarm and 
 lamentation. 
 
 And now, almost simultaneously, the west wall 
 of the building, and the south wall, and all the 
 
92 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 southwestern portions of the roof, covered them- 
 selves with voluminous mantles of flame, which 
 increased so hugely and with such savage rapidity 
 that the one stream on the roof was seen to be but 
 a ridiculous and useless opposition. 
 
 Everybody began to shout advice to his neighbor; 
 and nobody listened even to himself. The firemen 
 were in as great a turmoil as was the crowd, while 
 women covered their eyes. Young Frank Cheno- 
 weth was sobbing curses upon the bruised and 
 shaking Trumble and Jefferson Bareaud, who could 
 only stand remorseful, impotently groaning, and 
 made no answer. 
 
 The walls of the southernmost warehouse followed 
 the roof, crashing inward one after the other, a 
 sacrificial pyre with its purpose consummated; and 
 in the seeth and flare of its passing, Tom Vanrevel 
 again shaded his eyes with his hand, and looked 
 down across the upturned faces. The pedestal with 
 the grotesque carvings was still there; but the 
 crowning figure had disappeared the young god- 
 dess was gone. For she, of all that throng, had an 
 idea in her head, and, after screaming it to every 
 man within reach, only to discover the impossibility 
 of making herself understood in that Babel, she 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 93 
 
 was struggling to make her way toward the second 
 warehouse, through the swaying jam of people. It 
 was a difficult task, as the farther in she managed 
 to go, the denser became the press and the more 
 tightly she found the people wedged, until she 
 received involuntary aid from the firemen. In turn- 
 ing their second stream to play ineffectually upon 
 the lower strata of flame, they accidentally deflected 
 it toward the crowd, who separated wildly, leaving 
 a big gap, of which Miss Betty took instant advan- 
 tage. She darted across, and the next moment, 
 unnoticed, had entered the building through the 
 do.or which Crailey Gray had opened. 
 
 The five young men on the roof were well aware 
 that there was little to do but to wait, and soon 
 they would see which was to win, they or the fire; 
 so they shifted their line of hose to the eastern 
 front of the building out of harm's way, for a 
 little time, at least and held the muzzle steady, 
 watching its work. And in truth it was not long 
 before they understood which would conquer. The 
 southern and western portions of the building had 
 flung out great flames that fluttered and flared on 
 the breeze like Titanic flags; and steadily, slowly, 
 at first, then faster as the seconds flew, the five 
 
64 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 were driven backward, up the low slope of the roof 
 toward the gable-ridge. Tom Vanrevel held the 
 first joint of the nozzle, and he retreated with a 
 sulky face, lifting his foot grudgingly at each step. 
 They were all silent, now, and no one spoke until 
 Will Cummings faltered: 
 
 i "Surely they'll get a rope up to us same way?" 
 \ Will knew as well as did the others that there 
 was no way; but his speech struck the sullen heart 
 of the chief with remorse. He turned. "I hope 
 you'll all forgive me for getting you up here." 
 
 A sound, half sob, half giggle, came from the 
 parched lips of Eugene Madrillon, as he patted 
 Tom on the shoulder without speaking, and Crailey 
 nodded quietly, then left the group and went to the 
 eastern edge of the roof and looked out upon the 
 crowd. Cummings dropped the line and sat down, 
 burying his hot face in his arms, for they all saw 
 that Vanrevel thought "it was no use," but a ques- 
 tion of a few minutes, and they would retreat across 
 the gable and either jump or go down with the roof. 
 
 Since the world began, idle and industrious phi- 
 losophers have speculated much upon the thoughts 
 of men about to die; yet it cannot be too ingenuous 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 95 
 
 io believe that such thoughts vary as the men, their 
 characters, and conditions of life vary. Neverthe- 
 less, pursuant with the traditions of minstrelsy and 
 romance, it is conceivable that young, unmarried 
 men, called upon to face desperate situations, might, 
 at the crucial moment, rush to a common experience 
 of summoning the vision, each of his heart's desire, 
 and to meet, each his doom, with her name upon 
 his lips. 
 
 An extraordinary thing occurred in the present 
 instance, for, by means of some fragmentary remarks 
 let fall at the time, and afterward recalled such 
 as Tappingham Marsh's gasping: "At least it will 
 be on her father's roof!" and from other things 
 later overheard, an inevitable deduction has been 
 reached that four of the five gentlemen in the 
 perilous case herein described were occupied with 
 the vision of the same person, to wit : Miss Elizabeth 
 Carewe, "the last the prettiest to come to town!" 
 
 Crailey Gray, alone, spoke not at all; but why 
 did he strain and strain his eyes toward that empty 
 pedestal with the grotesque carvings? Did he 
 seek Fanchon there, or was Miss Carewe the last 
 sweet apparition in the fancies of all five of the 
 unhappy young men? 
 
96 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 The coincidence of the actual appearance of the 
 lady among them, therefore seemed the more miracu> 
 lous, when, wan and hopeless, staggering desperately 
 backward to the gable-ridge, they heard a clear 
 contralto voice behind them: 
 
 "Hadn't you better all come down now?" it 
 said. "The stairway will be on fire before long." 
 
 Only one thing could have been more shockingly 
 unexpected to the five than that there should be a 
 sixth person on the roof, and this was that the sixth 
 person should be Miss Betty Carewe. 
 
 They turned, aghast, agape, chopfallen with 
 astonishment, stunned, and incredulous. 
 
 She stood just behind the gable-ridge, smiling 
 amiably, a most incongruous little pink fan in her 
 hand, the smoke-wreaths partly obscuring her and 
 curling between the five and her white dress, like 
 mists floating across the new moon. 
 
 Was it but a kindly phantasm of the brain? 
 Was it the incarnation of the last vision of the lost 
 Volunteers? Was it a Valkyrie assuming that 
 lovely likeness to perch upon this eyrie, waiting 
 to bear their heroic souls to Valhalla, or was it 
 Miss Betty Carewe? 
 
 To the chief she spoke all of them agreed to 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 97 
 
 that afterward but it was Crailey who answered, 
 while Tom could only stare, and stand wagging 
 his head at the lovely phantom, like a Mandarin 
 on a shelf. 
 
 "My mother in heaven!" gasped Crailey. "How 
 did you come up here?" 
 
 "There's a trap in the roof on the other side of 
 the ridge," she said, and she began to fan herself 
 with the pink fan. "A stairway runs all the way 
 down old Nelson showed me through these build- 
 ings yesterday and that side isn't on fire yet. I'm 
 so sorry I didn't think of it until a moment ago, 
 because you could have brought the water up that 
 way. But don't you think you'd better come down 
 now?" 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE COMEDIAN 
 
 NOT savage Hun, nor "barbarous Van- 
 dyke," nor demon Apache, could wish to 
 dwell upon the state of mind of the Chief 
 of the Rouen Volunteer Fire Department; there- 
 fore, let the curtain of mercy descend. Without 
 a word, he turned and dragged the nozzle to the 
 eastern eaves, whence, after a warning gesture to 
 those below, he dropped it to the ground. And, 
 out of compassion, it should be little more than 
 hinted that the gesture of warning was very slight. 
 When the rescued band reached the foot of the 
 last flight of stairs, they beheld the open doorway 
 as a frame for a great press of intent and con- 
 torted faces, every eye still strained to watch the 
 roof; none of the harrowed spectators compre- 
 hending the appearance of the girl's figure there, 
 nor able to see whither she had led the five young 
 men, until Tappingham Marsh raised a shout as 
 he leaped out of the door and danced upon the 
 
 solid earth again. 
 
 98 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 99 
 
 Then, indeed, there was a mighty uproar; cheer 
 after cheer ascended to the red vault of heaven; 
 women wept, men whooped, and the people rushed 
 for the heroes with wide-open, welcoming arms. 
 Jefferson Bareaud and Frank Chenoweth and Gen- 
 eral Trumble dashed at Tom Vanrevel witfc inco- 
 herent cries of thanksgiving, shaking his kands 
 and beating him hysterically upon the back. He 
 greeted them with bitter laughter. 
 
 "Help get the water into the next warehouse; 
 this one is beyond control, but we can save the 
 other two. Take the lines in through the door!' 9 
 He brushed the rejoicing friends off abruptly, and 
 went on in a queer, hollow voice: "There are stairs 
 and I'm so sorry I didn't think of it untfl a mo- 
 ment ago, because you could have brought the 
 water up that way!" 
 
 A remarkable case of desertion had occurred, 
 the previous instant, under his eyes. As the party 
 emerged from the warehouse into the street, Tom 
 heard Crailey say hurriedly to Miss Carewe: "Let 
 me get you away come quickly!" saw him sud- 
 denly seize her hand, and, eluding the onrushing 
 crowd, run with her round the corner of the build- 
 ing. And somehow, through what inspiration, or 
 
100 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 through what knowledge of his partner's "temper- 
 ament," heaven knows, the prophetic soul of the 
 chief was unhappily assured that Crailey would 
 offer himself as escort to her home, and find 
 acceptance. But why not? Was it Crailey who 
 had publicly called his fellow-man fool, idiot, 
 imbecile, at the top of his lungs, only to find him^ 
 self the proven numskull of the universe! Tom 
 stood for a moment staring after the vanishing 
 pair, while over his face stole the strangest expression 
 that ever man saw there; then, with meekly bowed 
 shoulders, he turned again to his work. 
 
 At the corner of the warehouse, Miss Carewe 
 detached her hand from Crailey's, yet still fol- 
 lowed him as he made a quick detour round the 
 next building. A minute or two later they found 
 themselves, undetected, upon Main Street in the 
 rear of the crowd. There Crailey paused. 
 
 "Forgive me," he said, breathlessly, "for taking 
 your hand. I thought you would like to get away." 
 
 She regarded him gravely, so that he found it 
 difficult to read her look, except that it was seriously 
 questioning; but whether the interrogation was 
 addressed to him or to herself he could not de- 
 termine. After a silence she said: 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 101 
 
 "I don't know why I followed you. I believe 
 it must have been because you didn't give me 
 time to think." 
 
 This, of course, made him even quicker with her 
 than before. "It's all over," he said briskly. "The 
 first warehouse is gone; the second will go, but 
 they'll save the others easily enough, now that 
 you have pointed out the lines may be utilized 
 otherwise than as adjuncts of performances on 
 the high trapeze!" They were standing by a 
 picket-fence, and he leaned against it, overcome 
 by mirth in which she did not join. Her gravity 
 reacted upon him at once, and his laughter was 
 stopped short. "Will you not accept me as an 
 escort to your home?" he said formally. 
 
 "I do not know," she returned simply, the sort 
 of honest trouble in her glance that is seen only 
 in very young eyes. 
 
 "What reason in the world!" he returned, with 
 a crafty sharpness of astonishment. 
 
 She continued to gaze upon him thoughtfully, 
 while he tried to look into her eyes, but was baf- 
 fled because the radiant beams from the lady's 
 orbs (as the elder Chenoweth might have said) 
 rested somewhere dangerously near his chin, which 
 
102 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 worried him, for, though his chin made B retreat 
 and was far from Hi-looking, it was, neyertheless, 
 that feature which he most distrusted. "Won't 
 you tell me why not?" he repeated, uneasily. 
 
 "Because," she answered at last, speaking hesi- 
 tatingly, "because it isn't so easy a matter for me 
 as yon seem to think. You have not beea intro- 
 duced to me, and I know you never will be, and 
 that what you told me was true." 
 
 "Which part of what I told you?" Tke ques- 
 tion escaped from him instanter. 
 
 "That the others might come when they liked, 
 but that you could not," 
 
 "Oh yes, yes." His expression altered to a 
 sincere dejection; his shoulders drooped, and his 
 voice indicated supreme annoyance. "I might 
 have known someone would tell you! Who was 
 it? Did they say why I 
 
 "On account of your quarrel with my father." 
 
 "My quarrel with your father!" he exclaimed; 
 and his face lit with an elated surprise; his shoul- 
 ders straightened. He took a step nearer her, 
 and asked, eagerly: "Who told you that?" 
 
 "My father himself. He spoke of a Mr. Van- 
 revel whom he disliked, and whom I nwist not 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 103 
 
 meet; and, remembering what you had said, of 
 course I knew that you were he." 
 
 "Oh!" Crailey's lips began to form a smile 
 of such appealing and inimitable sweetness that 
 Voltaire would have trusted him; a smile alto- 
 gether rose-leaves. "Then I lose you," he said, 
 "for my only chance to know you was in keeping 
 it hidden from you. And now you understand!" 
 
 "No," she answered, gravely, "I don't under- 
 stand; that is what troubles me. If I did, and 
 believed you had the right of the difference, I 
 could believe it no sin that you should speak to 
 me, should take me home now. I think it is wrong 
 not to act from your own understanding of things/' 
 
 The young man set his expression as one in- 
 domitably fixed upon the course of honor, cost 
 what it might; and, in the very action, his lurking 
 pleasure in doing it hopped out in the flicker of a 
 twinkle in his eyes, and as instantly sought cover 
 again the flea in the rose-jar. 
 
 "Then you must ask some other," he said, firmly. 
 "A disinterested person should tell you. The 
 difference was political in the beginning, but be- 
 came personal afterward; and it is now a quarrel 
 which can never be patched up, though, for my 
 
104 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 part, I wish that it could be. I can say no more, 
 because a party to it should not speak." 
 
 She met his level look squarely at last; and no 
 man ever had a more truthful pair of eyes than 
 Crailey Gray, for it was his great accomplishment 
 that he could adjust his emotion, his reason, and 
 something that might be called his faith, to fit 
 any situation in any character. 
 
 "You may take me home," she answered. "I 
 may be wrong, and even disloyal; but I do not 
 feel it so, now. You did a very brave thing to- 
 night to save him from loss, and I think that what 
 you have said was just what you should have 
 said." 
 
 So they went down the street, the hubbub and 
 confusion of the fire growing more and more in- 
 distinct behind them. They walked slowly, and, 
 for a time, neither spoke; yet the silence was of a 
 kind which the adept rejoiced to have produced 
 thus soon their second meeting. For he believed 
 there were more strange things in heaven and 
 earth than Horatio wot; and one of the strangest 
 was that whenever he was near an attractive woman 
 during a silence such as this, something not to be 
 defined, but as effective as it was indefinite, always 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 105 
 
 went out from him to her. It was like a word of 
 tenderness, a word too gentle, too compelling, 
 too sweet, to be part of any tongue, spoken or 
 written. And more: this ineffable word had an 
 echo, and came back to him from the woman. 
 
 As his partner had in dress, so Crailey had with 
 women, some color of the Beau; but it was not in 
 what experience had given him to recognize as a 
 fact: that they were apt to fall in love with him. 
 (That they were apt to remain in love with him 
 he understood perfectly was another matter.) 
 And he knew when they were doing it; could have 
 told them accurately, at each step, what they were 
 feeling, thinking, dreaming, during the process, 
 because he was usually exhibiting the same symp- 
 toms to himself at the same time. 
 
 Thus, with his own breast occupied with that 
 dizzy elation which followed its reception of the 
 insane young god's arrows, and his heart warm 
 with the rise of the old emotion that he knew so 
 well, he was nevertheless able to walk with his 
 finger on the pulse of the exquisite moment, count- 
 ing her heartbeats and his own. 
 
 So, to his fancy, as they walked, the little space 
 between them was hung with brilliant strands, 
 
106 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 like gossamer chains of gold, already linking them 
 together; every second fixing another slender, pre- 
 cious fetter, binding them closer, drawing her 
 nearer. He waited until they passed into the 
 shadows of the deserted Carewe Street before he 
 spoke. There he stopped abruptly; at which she 
 turned, astonished. 
 
 "Now that you have saved my life," he said, 
 in a low, tremulous tone, "what are you going to 
 do with it?" 
 
 Her eyes opened almost as widely as they had 
 at her first sight of him in her garden. There 
 was a long pause before she replied, and when 
 she did, it was to his considerable surprise. 
 
 "I have never seen a play, except the funny 
 little ones we acted at the convent," she said, 
 "but isn't that the way they speak on the stage?" 
 
 Crailey realized that his judgment of the silence 
 had been mistaken, and yet it was with a thrill 
 of delight that he recognized her clear reading of 
 him. He had been too florid again. 
 
 "Let us go." His voice was soft with re- 
 strained forgiveness. "You mocked me once 
 before." 
 
 "Mocked you?" she repeated, as they went on. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 107 
 
 "Mocked me," he said, firmly. "Mocked me 
 for seeming theatrical, and yet you have learned 
 that what I said was true; as you will again." 
 
 She mused upon this; then, as in whimsical 
 indulgence to an importunate child: 
 
 "Well, tell me what you mean when you say I 
 saved your life." 
 
 "You came alone," he began, hastily, "to stand 
 upon that burning roof 
 
 "Whence all but him had fled!" Her laughter 
 rang out, interrupting him. "My room was on 
 the fourth floor at St. Mary's, and I didn't mind 
 climbing three flights this evening." 
 
 Crailey's good-nature was always perfect. "You 
 mock me and you mock me!" he cried, and made 
 her laughter but part of a gay duet. "I know 
 I have gone too fast, have said things I should 
 have waited to say; but, ah! remember the small 
 chance I have against the others who can see you 
 when they like. Don't flout me because I try 
 to make the most of a rare, stolen moment with 
 
 you." 
 
 "Do!" she exclaimed, grave upon the instant. 
 "Do make the most of it! I have nothing but 
 >< experience. Make the most by treating me 
 
108 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 seriously. Won't you? I know you can, and I 
 I She faltered to a full stop. She was earnest 
 and quiet, and there had been something in her 
 tone, too as very often there was that showed 
 how young she was. "Oh!" she began again, turn- 
 ing to him impulsively, "I have thought about 
 you since that evening in the garden, and I have 
 wished I could know you. I can't be quite clear 
 how it happened, but even those few minutes left 
 a number of strong impressions about you. And 
 the strongest was that you were one with whom 
 I could talk of a great many things, if you would 
 only be real with me. I believe though I'm not 
 sure why I do that it is very difficult for you to 
 be real; perhaps because you are so different at 
 different times, that you aren't sure yourself, which 
 the real you is. But the person that you are be- 
 ginning to be for my benefit must be the most 
 trifling of all your selves, lighter and easier to 
 put on than the little mask you carried the other 
 night. If there were nothing better underneath 
 the mask, I might play, too." 
 
 "Did you learn this at the convent?" gasped 
 Crailey. 
 
 "There was a world there in miniature," she 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 109 
 
 answered, speaking very quickly. "I think all 
 people are made of the same materials, only in 
 such different proportions. I think a little world 
 might hold as much as the largest, if you thought 
 it all out hard enough, and your experience might 
 be just as broad and deep in a small corner of the 
 earth as anywhere else. But I don't know! I want 
 to understand I want to understand everything! 
 I read books, and there are people but no one who 
 tells me what I want I ' 
 
 "Stop." He lifted his hand. "I won't act; 
 I shall never 'play' for you again." He was breath- 
 less; the witching silence was nothing to what 
 stirred him now. A singular exaltation rose in 
 him, together with the reckless impulse to speak 
 from the mood her vehement confidence had in- 
 spired. He gave way to it. 
 
 "I know, I know," he said huskily. "I under- 
 stand all you mean, all you feel, all you wish. It 
 is all echoing here, and here, and here!" He 
 touched his breast, his eyes, and his forehead with 
 the fingers of his long and slender hand. "We 
 sigh and strain our eyes and stretch out our arms 
 in the dark, groping always for the strange bless- 
 ing that is just beyond our grasp, seeking for the 
 
110 THE TWO VANEEVELS 
 
 precious unknown that lies just over the horizon! 
 It's what they meant by the pot of gold where 
 the rainbow ends only, it may be there, after all!" 
 
 They stopped unconsciously, and remained stand- 
 ing at the lower end of the Carewe hedge. The 
 western glow had faded, and she was gazing at him 
 through the darkness, leaning forward, never dream- 
 ing that her tight grasp had broken the sticks of 
 the little pink fan. 
 
 "Yes," she whispered, eagerly. "You are right: 
 you understand!" 
 
 He went on, the words coming faster and faster; 
 "We are haunted you and I by the wish to 
 know all things, and by the question that lies 
 under every thought we have: the agonizing Whither? 
 Isn't it like that? It is really death that makes 
 us think. You are a good Catholic: you go to 
 mass; but you wish to know. Does God reign, 
 or did it all happen? Sometimes it seems so deadly 
 probable that the universe just was, no God to 
 plan it, nothing but things; that we die as spar- 
 rows die, and the brain is all the soul we have, 
 a thing that becomes clogged and stops some day. 
 And is that all?" 
 
 She shivered slightly, but her steadfast eyes 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 111 
 
 did not shift from him. He threw back his head, 
 and his face, uplifted to the jewelled sky of the 
 moonless night, was beatific in its peacefulness, 
 as he continued in an altered tone, gentle and low: 
 "I think all questions are answered there. The 
 stars tell it all. When you look at them you know! 
 They have put them on our flag. There are times 
 when this seems but a poor nation: boastful, cor- 
 rupt, violent, and preparing, as it is now, to steal 
 another country by fraud and war; yet the stars 
 on the flag always make me happy and confident. 
 Do you see the constellations swinging above us, 
 such unimaginable vastnesses, not roving or crash- 
 ing through the illimitable at haphazard, but 
 moving in more excellent measure, and to a finer 
 rhythm, than the most delicate clockwork man 
 ever made? The great ocean-lines mark our seas 
 with their paths through the water; the fine brains 
 of the earth are behind the ships that sail from 
 port to port, yet how awry the system goes! W 7 hen 
 does a ship come to her harbor at an hour deter- 
 mined when she sailed? What is a ship beside 
 the smallest moon of the smallest world? But, 
 there above us, moons, worlds, suns, all the infinite 
 duster of colossi, move into place to the exactness 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 of a hair at the precise instant. That instant has 
 been planned, you see; it is part of a system and 
 can a system exist that no mind made? Think 
 of the Mind that made this one! Do you believe 
 so inconceivably majestic an Intelligence as that 
 could be anything but good? Ah, when you wonder, 
 look above you; look above you in the night, I 
 say," he cried, his hand upraised like his trans- 
 figured face. "Look above you and you will never 
 fear that a sparrow's fall could go unmarked!" 
 
 It was not to the stars that she looked, but to 
 the orator, as long as he held that pose, which lasted 
 until a hard-ridden horse came galloping down the 
 street. As it dashed by, though the rider looked 
 neither to right nor left, Miss Betty unconsciously 
 made a feverish clutch at her companion's sleeve, 
 drawing him closer to the hedge. 
 
 "It is my father," she said hurriedly in a low 
 voice. "He must not see you. You must never 
 come here. Perhaps " She paused, then quickly 
 whispered: "You have been very kind to me. 
 Good-night." 
 
 He looked at her keenly, and through the dim 
 ness saw that her face was shining with excitement 
 He did not speak again, but, taking a step back- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 113 
 
 ward, smiled faintly, bent his head in humble 
 acquiescence, and made a slight gesture of his 
 hand for her to leave him. She set her eyes upon 
 his once more, then turned swiftly and almost ran 
 along the hedge to the gate; but there she stopped 
 and looked back. He was standing where she had 
 left him, his face again uplifted to the sky. 
 
 She waved him an uncertain farewell, and ran 
 into the garden, both palms against her burning 
 cheeks. 
 
 Night is the great necromancer, and strange 
 are the fabrics he weaves; he lays queer spells; 
 breathes so eerie an intoxication through the dusk; 
 he can cast such glamours about a voice! He is 
 the very king of fairyland. 
 
 Miss Betty began to walk rapidly up and down 
 the garden paths, her head bent and her hands still 
 pressed to her cheeks; now and then an uncon- 
 scious exclamation burst from her, incoherent, more 
 like a gasp than a word. A long time she paced 
 the vigil with her stirring heart, her skirts sweeping 
 the dew from the leaning flowers. Her lips moved 
 often, but only the confused, vehement "0^, oh!" 
 came from them, until at last she paused in the 
 middle of the garden, away from the trees, where 
 
114 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 all was open to the sparkling firmament, and ex- 
 tended her arms over her head. 
 
 "O, strange teacher," she said aloud, "I take 
 your beautiful stars! I shall know how to learn 
 from them!" 
 
 She gazed steadily upward, enrapt, her eyes 
 resplendent with their own starlight. 
 
 "Oh, stars, stars, stars!" she whispered. 
 
 In the teeth of all wizardry, Night's spells do 
 pass at sunrise; marvellous poems sink to doggerel, 
 mighty dreams to blown ashes and solids regain 
 weight. Miss Betty, waking at daybreak, saw the 
 motes dancing in the sun at her window, and 
 watched them with a placid, unremembering eye. 
 She began to stare at them in a puzzled way, while 
 a look of wonder slowly spread over her face. Sud- 
 denly she sat upright, as though something had 
 startled her. Her fingers clenched tightly. 
 
 "Ah, if that was playing!" 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A TALE OF A POLITICAL DIFFERENCE 
 
 MR. CAREWE was already at the break- 
 fast-table, but the light of his coun- 
 tenance, hidden behind the Rouen 
 Journal, was not vouchsafed to his daughter when 
 she took her place opposite him, nor did he see 
 fit to return her morning greeting, from which she 
 generously concluded that the burning of the two 
 warehouses had meant a severe loss to him. 
 
 "I am so sorry, father," she said gently. (She 
 had not called him "papa" since the morning after 
 her ball.) "I hope it isn't to be a great trouble to 
 you." There was no response, and, after waiting 
 for some time, she spoke again, rather tremu- 
 lously, yet not timidly: "Father?" 
 
 He rose, and upon his brow were marked the 
 blackest lines of anger she had ever seen, so that 
 she leaned back from him, startled; but he threw 
 down the open paper before her on the table, and 
 
 struck it with his clenched fist. 
 
 115 
 
116 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Read that!" he said. And he stood over her 
 while she read. 
 
 There were some grandiloquent headlines: "Miss 
 Elizabeth Care we an Angel of Mercy! Charming 
 Belle Saves the Lives of Five Prominent Citizens! 
 Her Presence of Mind Prevents Conflagration from 
 Wiping Out the City!" It may be noted that Will 
 Cumrnings, editor and proprietor of the Journal, 
 had written these tributes, as well as the whole 
 account of the evening's transactions, and Miss 
 Betty loomed as large in Will's narrative as in his 
 good and lovelorn heart. There was very little 
 concerning the fire in the Journal; it was nearly 
 all about Betty. That is one of the misfortunes 
 which pursue a lady who allows an editor to fall 
 in love with her. 
 
 However, there was a scant mention of the 
 arrival of the Volunteers "upon the scene" (though 
 none at all at the cause of their delay) and an elo- 
 quent paragraph was devoted to their handsome 
 appearance, Mr. Cummings having been one of 
 those who insisted that the new uniforms should be 
 worn. "Soon," said the Journal, "through the daring 
 of the Chief of the Department, and the Captain 
 of the Hook-and-Ladder Company, one of whom 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 117 
 
 placed and mounted the grappling-ladder, over 
 which he was immediately followed by the other 
 carrying the hose, a stream was sent to play upon 
 the devouring element, a feat of derring-do per- 
 sonally witnessed by a majority of our readers. 
 Mr. Vanrevel and Mr. Gray were joined by Eugene 
 Madrillon, Tappingham Marsh, and the editor of 
 this paper, after which occurred the unfortunate 
 accident to the long ladder, leaving the five named 
 gentlemen in their terrible predicament, face to 
 face with death in its most awful form. At this 
 frightful moment" and all the rest was about 
 Miss Carewe. 
 
 As Will himself admitted, he had "laid himself 
 out on that description." One paragraph was 
 composed of short sentences, each beginning with 
 the word "Alone." "Alone she entered the shat- 
 tered door! Alone she set foot upon the first flight 
 of stairs! Alone she ascended the second! Alone 
 she mounted the third. Alone she lifted her hand 
 to the trap! Alone she opened it!" She was declared 
 to have made her appearance to the unfortunate 
 prisoners on the roof, even as "the palm-laden dove 
 to the despairing Noah," and Will also asserted re- 
 peatedly that she was the "Heroine of the Hour." 
 
118 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Miss Betty blushed to see her name so blazoned 
 forth in print; but she lacked one kind of vanity, 
 and failed to find good reason for more than a 
 somewhat troubled laughter, the writer's purpose 
 was so manifestly kind in spite of the bizarre result. 
 
 "Oh, I wish Mr. Cummings hadn't!" she ex- 
 claimed. "It would have been better not to speak 
 of me at all, of course; but I can't see that there is 
 anything to resent it is so funny!" 
 
 "Funny!" Mr. Carewe repeated the word in 
 a cracked falsetto, with the evident intention of 
 mocking her, and at the same time hideously con- 
 torted his face into a grotesque idiocy of expres- 
 sion, pursing his lips so extremely, and setting 
 his brows so awry, that his other features were 
 carried out of all familiar likeness, effecting an 
 alteration as shocking to behold, in a man of his 
 severe cast of countenance, as was his falsetto 
 mimicry to hear. She rose in a kind of terror, per- 
 ceiving that this contortion was produced in bur- 
 lesque of her own expression, and, as he pressed 
 nearer her, stepped back, overturning her chair. 
 She had little recollection of her father during her 
 childhood; and as long as she could remember, no 
 one had spoken to her angrily, or even roughly. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 119 
 
 As she retreated from him, he leaned forward, 
 thrusting the hideous mask closer to her white and 
 horror-stricken face. 
 
 "You can't see anything to resent in that!" he 
 gibbered. "It's so funny, is it? Funny! Funny! 
 Funny! I'll show you whether it's funny or not, 
 I'll show you!" His voice rose almost to a shriek. 
 "You hang around fires, do you, on the public 
 streets at night? You're a nice one for me to leave 
 in charge of my house while I'm away, you trollop! 
 What did you mean by going up on that roof? 
 You knew that damned Vanrevel was there! You 
 did, I say, you knew it!" 
 
 She ran toward the door with a frightened cry; 
 but he got between it and her, menacing her 
 with his upraised open hands, shaking them over 
 her. 
 
 "You're a lovely daughter, aren't you!" he 
 shouted hoarsely. "You knew perfectly well who 
 was on that roof, and you went! Didn't you go? 
 Answer me that! If I'd had arms about me when 
 I got there, I'd have shot that man dead! He was 
 on my property, giving orders, the black hound! 
 And when I ordered him out, he told me if I inter- 
 fered with his work before it was finished, he'd have 
 
120 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 me thrown out me that owned the whole place; 
 and there wasn't a man that would lend ine a pistol ! 
 'Rescue!' You'd better rescue him from me, you 
 palm-laden dove, for I'll shoot him, I will! I'll 
 kill that dog; and he knows it. He can bluster in 
 a crowd, but he'll hide now ! He's a coward and " 
 
 "He came home with me; he brought me home 
 last night!" Her voice rang out in the room like 
 that of some other person, and she hardly knew 
 that it was herself who spoke. 
 
 "You lie!" he screamed, and fell back from 
 her, his face working as though under the domi- 
 nance of some physical disorder, the flesh of it 
 plastic beyond conception, so that she cried out and 
 covered her face with her arm. "You lie! I saw 
 you at the hedge with Crailey Gray, though you 
 thought I didn't. What do you want to lie like 
 that for? Vanrevel didn't even speak to you. I 
 asked Madrillon. You lie!" 
 
 He choked upon the words; a racking cough 
 shook him from head to foot; he staggered back 
 and dropped upon her overturned chair, his arms 
 beating the table in front of him, his head jerk- 
 ing spasmodically backward and forward as he 
 gasped for breath. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 121 
 
 "Ring the bell," he panted thickly, with an in- 
 coherent gesture. "Nelson knows. Ring!" 
 
 Nelson evidently knew. He brought brandy and 
 water from the sideboard with no stinting hand, 
 and within ten minutes Mr. Carewe was in his 
 accustomed seat, competent to finish his breakfast. 
 In solitude, however, he sat, and no one guessed 
 his thoughts. 
 
 For Miss Betty had fled to her own room, and 
 had bolted the door. She lay upon the bed, shud- 
 dering and shivering with nausea and cold, though 
 the day was warm. Then, like a hot pain in her 
 breast, came a homesickness for St. Mary's, and 
 the flood-tide of tears, as she thought of the quiet 
 convent in the sunshine over to the west, the peace 
 of it, and the goodness of everybody there. 
 
 "Sister Cecilia!" Her shoulders shook with 
 the great sob that followed this name, dearest to 
 her in the world, convulsively whispered to the 
 pillow. "Dear Sister Cecilia!" She patted the 
 white pillow with her hand, as though it were the 
 cool cheek against which she yearned to lay her 
 own. "Ah, you would know you would know!" 
 With the thought of the serene face of the good 
 Sister, and of the kind arms that would have gone 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 round her in trouble, her sobbing grew loud and 
 uncontrollable. But she would not have her father 
 hear it, and buried her face deep in the pillow. 
 After a time, she began to grow quieter, turned, 
 and lay with wet eyes staring unseeingly at the 
 wall, her underlip quivering with the deep intake 
 of each broken sigh. 
 
 "Oh, stars, stars, stars!" she whispered. 
 
 "Missy?" There came a soft knock upon the 
 door and the clink of silver upon china. "Missy?" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 So quick was Miss Betty that, although she 
 answered almost at once, the tears were washed 
 away, and she was passing a cool, wet towel over 
 her eyes at the moment she spoke. 
 
 "Jass me. I brung yo' breakfas', honey." 
 
 Old Nelson's voice was always low and gentle, 
 with a quaver and hesitancy in the utterance; 
 now it was tender and comforting with the com- 
 prehension of one in suffering, the extraordinary 
 tact, which the old of his race nearly all come to 
 possess. "Li'l chicken-wing on piece brown toast, 
 honey." 
 
 When she opened the door he came in, bending 
 attentively over his tray, and, without a glance 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 toward his young mistress, made some show of fuss 
 and bustle, as he placed it upon a table near the 
 window and drew up a chair for her so that she 
 could sit with her back to the light. 
 
 "Dah now!" he exclaimed softly, removing the 
 white napkin and displaying other dainties besides 
 the chicken wing. "Dass de way! Dat ole Mamie 
 in de kitchen, she got her failin's an' her grievin' 
 sins; but de way she do han'le chicken an' biscuit 
 sutney ain't none on 'em! She plead fo' me to 
 ax you how you like dem biscuit." 
 
 He kept his head bent low over the table, setting 
 a fork closer to Betty's hand; arranging the plates, 
 then rearranging them, but never turning his eyes 
 in her direction. 
 
 "Dat ole Mamie mighty vain, yessuh!" He 
 suffered a very quiet chuckle to escape him. "She 
 did most sutney 'sist dat I ax you ain't you like 
 dem biscuit. She de ve'y vaines' woman in dis 
 State, dat ole Mamie, yessuh!" And now he cast 
 one quick glance out of the corner of his eye at 
 Miss Betty, before venturing a louder chuckle. 
 "She reckon dem biscuit goin' git her by Sain' 
 Petuh when she 'proach de hevumly gates! Uhuh! 
 I tell her she got git redemption fo' de aigs she 
 
124 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 done ruin dese many yeahs; 'case she as useless wid 
 an ommelick as a two-day calf on de slick ice!" 
 Here he laughed loud and long. "You jass go 
 and talk wid dat Mamie, some day, Missy; you'll 
 see how vain dat woman is." 
 
 "Has father gone out, Nelson?" asked Betty 
 in a low voice. 
 
 "Yes'm; he up town." The old man's tone sank 
 at once to the level of her own; became confidential, 
 as one speaks to another in a room where somebody 
 is ill. "He mekkin' perpetration to go down de 
 rivuh dis aft'noon. He say he done broke de news 
 to you dat he goin' 'way. Dey goin' buiP dem 
 wa'house right up, an' yo' pa he necistate go 'way 
 'count de contrack. He be gone two week', honey," 
 Nelson finished, without too much the air of im- 
 parting cheery tidings, but with just enough. 
 
 "I am to stay here alone?" 
 
 "Law no, Missy! Dat big Miz Tanberry, dass 
 de bes' frien' we all got, she home ag'in, an' yo' 
 pa goin' invite her visit at de house, whiles he gone, 
 an' to stay a mont' aftuh he git back, too, soze 
 she kin go to all de doin's an' junketin's wid you, 
 and talk wid de young mens dat you don' like 
 whiles you talks wid dem you does like." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 125 
 
 "What time will father come home?" 
 
 "Home? He be gone two week', honey!" 
 
 "No; I mean to-day." 
 
 "Law! He ain' comin' back. Bid me pack de 
 trunk an' ca'y um down to de boat at noon. Den 
 he bid me say far'-ye-well an' a kine good-bye fo' 
 him, honey. 'Say he think you ain't feelin' too 
 well, soze he won't 'sturb ye, hisself, an' dat he 
 unestly do hope you goin' have splen'id time whiles 
 he trabblin'." (Nelson's imagination covered many 
 deficits in his master's courtesy.) "Say he reckon 
 you an' ole Miz Tanberry goin' git 'long mighty 
 nice wid one'nurr. An' dass what me an' Mamie 
 reckon 'spechually boun' to take place, 'case dat 
 a mighty gay lady, dat big Miz Tanberry, an* 
 ole frien' 'er owah fambly. She 'uz a frien' er yo' 
 momma's, honey." 
 
 Miss Betty had begun by making a pretence 
 to eat, only to please the old man, but the vain 
 woman's cookery had been not unduly extolled, 
 and Nelson laughed with pleasure to see the fluffy 
 biscuits and the chicken wing not nibbled at but 
 actually eaten. This was a healthy young lady, 
 he thought, one who would do the household credit 
 and justify the extravagant pride which kitchen 
 
126 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 and stable already had in her. He was an old 
 house-servant, therefore he had seen many young 
 ladies go through unhappy hours, and he admired 
 Miss Betty the more because she was the first who 
 had indulged in strong weeping and did not snuffle 
 at intervals afterward. He understood perfectly 
 everything that had passed between father and 
 daughter that morning. 
 
 When her breakfast was finished, she turned 
 slowly to the window, and, while her eyes did not 
 refill, a slight twitching of the upper lids made him 
 believe that she was going over the whole scene 
 again in her mind; whereupon he began to move 
 briskly about the room with a busy air, picking 
 up her napkin, dusting a chair with his hand, ex- 
 changing the position of the andirons in the fire- 
 place; and, apparently discovering that the 
 portrait of Georges Meilhac was out of line, he set 
 it awry, then straight again, the while he hummed 
 an old "spiritual" of which only the words "Chain 
 de Lion Down" were allowed to be quite audible. 
 They were repeated often, and at each repetition 
 of them he seemed profoundly, though decorously, 
 amused, in a way which might have led to a con- 
 jecture that the refrain bore some distant refer- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 127 
 
 ence to his master's eccentricity of temper. At 
 first he chuckled softly, but at the final iteration 
 of "Chain de Lion Down" burst into outright 
 laughter. 
 
 "Honey, my Law!" he exclained, "But yo' pa 
 de 'ceivin'dest man! He mighty proud er you!" 
 
 "Proud of me?" She turned to him in aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 Nelson's laughter increased. "Hain't he jass 
 de 'ceivindest man! Yessuh, he de sot-uppest man 
 in dis town 'count what you done last night. What 
 he say dis mawn', dat jass his way!" 
 
 "Ah, no!" said Miss Betty, sadly. 
 
 "Yes'm! He proud er you, but he teahbul mad 
 at dat man. He ain't mad at you, but he gotter 
 cuss somebody! Jass reach out fo' de nighes* he 
 kin lay ban's on, an' dis mawn' it happen soze it 
 were you, honey. Uhuh! You oughter hearn him 
 las' night when he come home. Den it were me. 
 Bless God, I ain't keerin'. He weren't mad at 
 me, no mo'n' he were at you. He jass mad!" 
 
 Miss Betty looked at the old fellow keenly. He 
 remained, however, apparently unconscious of her 
 scrutiny, and occupied himself with preparations 
 for removing the tray. 
 
128 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Nelson, what is the quarrel between my father 
 and Mr. Vanrevel?" 
 
 He had lifted the tray, but set it down precipi- 
 tately, bending upon her a surprised and sobered 
 countenance. 
 
 "Missy," he said, gravely, "dey big trouble 
 'twix' dem two." 
 
 "I know," she returned quietly. "What is it?" 
 
 "Wha' fo' you ax me, Missy?" 
 
 "Because you're the only one I can ask. I don't 
 know anyone here well enough, except you." 
 
 Nelson's lips puckered solemnly. "Mist' Van- 
 revel vote Whig; but he ag'in Texas." 
 
 "Well, what if he is?" 
 
 "Yo' pa mighty strong fo' Texas." 
 
 "Is that all?" 
 
 "No'm, dat ain't hardly de beginnin'. Mist' 
 Vanrevel he a Ab'litionist." 
 
 "Well? Won't you tell me?" 
 
 "Honey, folks roun' hear mos' on 'em like Mist' 
 Vanrevel so well dey ain't hole it up ag'in' him 
 but, Missy, ef dey one thing topper God's worF 
 yo' pa do desp'itly and con test ably despise, hate, 
 cuss, an' outrageously 'bominate wuss'n' a yaller 
 August spiduh it are a Ab'litionist! He want 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 129 
 
 stomple 'em eve'y las' one under he boot-heel, 
 'cep'n dat one Mist' Crailey Gray. Dey's a con- 
 sidabul sprinklin' er dem Ab'litionists 'bout de 
 kentry, honey; dey's mo' dat don' know w'ich dey 
 is; an' dey's mo' still dat don' keer. Soze dat why 
 dey go git up a quo'l twix' yo' pa an' dat man; an' 
 'range to have 'er on a platfawm, de yeah 'fo' de 
 las' campaign; an', suh, dey call de quo'l a de-bate; 
 an' all de folks in f'um de kentry, an' all de folks 
 in town come, too. De whole possetucky on 'em 
 sit an' listen. 
 
 "Fus' yo' pa talk; den Mist' Vanrevel, bofe on 
 'em mighty cole an' civilized. Den yo' pa git wo'm 
 up, Missy, like he do, 'case he so useter have his 
 own way; 'tain't his fault, he jass cain't help hol- 
 lerin' an' cussin' if anybody 'pose him; but Mist' 
 Vanrevel he jass as suvvige, but he stay cole, w'ich 
 make yo' pa all de hotter. He holler mighty strong, 
 Missy, an' some de back ranks 'gun snickerin' at 
 him. Uhuh! He fa'r jump, he did; an' den bime-by 
 Mist' Vanrevel he say dat no man oughter be 
 given de pilverige to sell another, ner to wollop 
 him wid a blacksnake, whether he 'buse dat pil- 
 verige er not. 'My honabul 'ponent', s's he, 'Mist* 
 Carewe, rep'sent in hisself de 'ristocratic slave- 
 
130 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 owin' class er de Souf, do' he live in de Nawf an' 
 'ploy free labor; yit it sca'sely to be b'lieve dat 
 any er you would willin'ly trus' him wid de powah 
 er Hie an' death ovah yo' own chillun, w'ich is 
 virchously what de slave-ownah p'sess'. 
 
 "Missy, you jass oughter see yo' pa den! He 
 blue in de face an' dance de quadrille on de boa'ds. 
 He leave his cha'h, git up, an' run 'cross to de 
 odder side de platfawm, an' shake he fis' ovah dat 
 man's head, an' screech out how it all lies dat de 
 slaves evah 'ceive sich a treatments. 'Dat all lies, 
 you pu'juh!' he holler. 'All lies, you misabul thief,' 
 he holler. 'All lies, an' you know it, you low-bawn 
 slandah' an' scoun'le!' 
 
 "An' wid dat Mist' Vanrevel, he laff in yo' pa 
 face, an' tuhn to de crowd, he did, an' say: 'You 
 reckon dat if dish yuh man a slave-ownah, an' a 
 slave had anguhed him as I have anguhed him 
 to-night, does any er you b'lieve dat slave wouldn' 
 be tied up an' whipped tell de blood run, an' den 
 sole down de rivuh to-morrer?' 
 
 "Well, suh, 'co'se mos' on 'em b'lieve same as yo' 
 pa; but dat sutney fotch 'em, an' win de cfe-bate, 
 'case dey jass natchully lay back an' roah, dey did, 
 Missy; dey laff an' stomp an' holler tell you could 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 131 
 
 a hearn 'em a mild away. An' honey, yo' pa'd a 
 mill yum times druther Mist' Vanrevel'd a kilt him 
 dan tuhn de laff on him. He'd shoot a man, honey, 
 ef he jass s'picion him to grin out de cornder his 
 eye at him; an' to stan' up dah wid de whole county 
 fa'r roahin' at him it's de God's mussy he did'n 
 have no ahms wid him, dat night! Ole Mist' 
 Chen'eth done brung him home, an' yo' pa reach 
 out an' kick me squah' out'n' de liberry winder 
 soon's he ketch sight er me!" The old man's 
 gravity gave way to his enjoyment of the recol- 
 lection, and he threw back his head to laugh. "He 
 sho' did, honey! Uhuh! Ho, ho, ho! He sho' did, 
 honey, he sho' did!" 
 
 Nevertheless, as he lifted the tray again and 
 crossed the room to go, his solemnity returned. 
 "Missy," he said earnestly, "ef dat young gelmun 
 fall in love wid you, w'ich I knows he will ef he 
 ketch sight er you, lemme say dis, an' please fo' 
 to ba'h in mine : better have nuttin' do wid him 
 'tall, fo' he own sake; an' 'bove all, keep him fur 
 'way f'um dese p'emises. Don' let him come in a 
 mild er dis house.'' 
 
 "Nelsom, was that all the quarrel between 
 them?" 
 
132 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Blessed Mussy! ain' dat 'nough? Ef dey's 
 any mo' I ain' hearn what dat part were," he an- 
 swered quickly, but with a dogged tightening of 
 the lips which convinced Miss Betty that he knew 
 very well. 
 
 "Nelson, what was the rest of it?" 
 
 "Please, Missy, I got pack yo' pa trunk; an' 
 it time, long ago, fer me to be at my wu'k." He 
 was half out of the door. 
 
 "What was the rest of it?" she repeated 
 quietly. 
 
 "Now, honey," he returned with a deprecatory 
 shake of his head, "I got my own wu'k 'tend to; 
 an' I ain't nevah ax nobody what 'twas, an' I 
 ain't goin' ax 'em. An' lemme jass beg you foller 
 de ole man's advice; you do de same, 'case nobody 
 ain't goin' tell you. All I know is dat it come 
 later and were somep'n 'bout dat riprarin Crailey 
 Gray. Yo' pa he sent a channelge to Mist' Van- 
 revel, an' Mist' Vanrevel 'fuse to fight him 'case 
 he say he don' b'lieve shootin' yo' pa goin' do yo' 
 pa any good, an' he still got hope mekkin* good 
 citizen outer him. Dat brung de laff on yo' pa 
 ag'in; an' he 'clare to God ef he ketch Vanrevel 
 on any groun' er hisn he shoot him like a mad 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 133 
 
 dog. Ton my livin' soul he mean dem wuds, 
 Missy! Dey had hard 'nough time las' night 
 keepin' him fum tealiin' dat man to pieces at de 
 fiah. You mus' keep dat young gelmun 'way fum 
 heah!" 
 
 "He came home with me last night, Nelson; I 
 told father so," 
 
 "Yes'm. Yo' pa tole me you say dat, but he 
 reckon you done it to mek him madder, 'case you 
 mad, too. He say he done see dat Crailey Gray 
 comin' 'long de hedge wid you." 
 
 "He was mistaken, it was Mr. Vanrevel." 
 
 Nelson rolled his eyes fervently to heaven. "Den 
 dat young man run pintedly on he death! Ef you 
 want keep us all dis side er de Jawdan Rivuh, don' 
 let him set foot in dis neighbo'hood when yo' pa 
 come back! An', honey " his voice sank to a 
 penetrating whisper "fo' I do a lick er wu'k I goin' 
 out in de stable an' git down on my knees an' retu'n 
 thanksgiving to de good God 'case he hole Carewe 
 Street in de dahkness las' night!" 
 
 This was the speech he chose for his exit, but, 
 after closing the door behind him, he opened it 
 again and said, cheerfully: 
 
 "Soon's I get de trunk fix f yo' pa, I bring 'roun' 
 
134 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 dat bay colt wid de side saddle. You belter set 
 'bout gittin' on yo' ridin'-habit, Missy. De roads 
 is mighty good dis sunshiny wedduh." 
 
 "Nelson?" 
 
 "Yes'm." 
 
 "Do you think such an attack as father had this 
 morning is dangerous ? ' ' 
 
 He had hoped for another chance to laugh vio- 
 lently before he left her, and this completely fitted 
 his desire. "Ho, ho, ho!" he shouted. "No'm, no, 
 no, honey! He jass git so mad it mek him sick. 
 You couldn't kill dat man wid a broad-ax, 
 Missy!" 
 
 And he went down the hall leaving the reverber- 
 ations of his hilarity behind him. The purpose of 
 his visit had been effected, for, when Miss Betty 
 appeared upon the horse-block in her green habit 
 and gauntlets, she was smiling; so that only a 
 woman or a wise old man could have guessed 
 that she had wept bitterly that morning. 
 
 She cantered out to the flat, open country to the 
 east, where she found soft dirt-roads that were 
 good for the bay colt's feet, and she reached a 
 cross-road several miles from town before she was 
 overcome bv the conviction that she was a wicked 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 135 
 
 and ungrateful girl. She could not place the exact 
 spot of her guilt, but she knew it was there, some- 
 where, since she felt herself a guilty thing. 
 
 For the picture which Nelson had drawn rose 
 before her: the one man standing alone in his rage 
 on the platform, overwhelmed by his calm young 
 adversary, beaten and made the butt of laughter 
 for a thousand. Her father had been in the wrong 
 in that quarrel, and somehow she was sure, too, he 
 must have been wrong in the "personal" one, as 
 well: the mysterious difficulty over Fanchon's Mr. 
 Gray, who had looked so ashamed last night. What 
 feud could they make over him, of all people in the 
 world? He looked strong enough to take care of his 
 own quarrels, even if he was so rigorously bound by 
 Fanchon's apron-string when it came to a word 
 with another girl! 
 
 But the conclusion that her father had been in 
 error did not lessen the pathetic appeal of the soli- 
 tary figure facing the ridicule of the crowd. She 
 felt that he always honestly believed himself in 
 the right; she knew that he was vain; that he had 
 an almost monstrous conception of his dignity; and 
 realizing the bitterness of that public humiliation 
 which he had undergone, she understood the wrath, 
 
136 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 the unspeakable pain and sense of outrage, which 
 must have possessed him. 
 
 And now she was letting him go forth upon a 
 journey his way beset with the chances of illness 
 and accident whence he might never return; she 
 was letting him go without seeing him again; letting 
 him go with no word of farewell from his daughter. 
 In brief: she was a wicked girl. She turned the 
 colt's head abruptly to the west and touched his 
 flanks with her whip. 
 
 So it fell out that as the packet foamed its passage 
 backward from Carewe's wharf into the current, the 
 owner of the boat, standing upon the hurricane deck, 
 heard a cry from the shore, and turned to behold 
 his daughter dash down to the very end of the wharf 
 on the well-lathered colt. Miss Betty's hair was 
 blown about her face; her cheeks were rosy, her 
 eager eyes sparkling from more than the hard riding. 
 
 "Papa!" she cried, "I'm sorry!" 
 
 She leaned forward out of the saddle, extending 
 her arms to him appealingly in a charming gesture, 
 and, absolutely ignoring the idlers on the wharf and 
 the passengers on the steamer, was singly intent 
 upon the tall figure on the hurricane-deck. "Papa 
 good-by. Please forgive me!" 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 137 
 
 "By the Almighty, but that's a fine woman!" 
 said the captain of the boat to a passenger from 
 Rouen. "Is she his daughter?" 
 
 "Please forgive me!" the clear voice came again, 
 with its quaver of entreaty, across the widening 
 water; and then, as Mr. Care we made no sign, by 
 word or movement, of hearing her, and stood with- 
 out the slightest alteration of his attitude, she cried 
 to him once more: 
 
 "Good-by!" 
 
 The paddle-wheels reversed; the boat swung down 
 the river, Mr. Carewe still standing immovable on 
 the hurricane-deck, while, to the gaze of those on 
 the steamer, the figure on the bay colt at the end 
 of the wharf began to grow smaller and smaller. 
 She was waving her handkerchief in farewell, and 
 they could see the little white speck in the distance, 
 dimmer and dimmer, yet fluttering still as they 
 passed out of sight round the bend nearly three- 
 quarters of a mile below. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE RULE OP THE REGENT 
 
 BETTY never forgot her first sight of the old 
 friend of her family. Returning with a sad 
 heart, she was walking the colt slowly 
 through the carriage-gates, when an extravagantly 
 stout lady, in green muslin illustrated with huge 
 red flowers, came out upon the porch and waved 
 a fat arm to the girl. The visitor wore a dark- 
 green turban and a cashmere shawl, while the ex- 
 panse of her skirts was nothing short of magnificent: 
 some cathedral-dome seemed to have been mis- 
 placed and the lady dropped into it. Her out- 
 stretched hand terrified Betty: how was she to 
 approach near enough to take it? 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry was about sixty, looked forty, and 
 at first you might have guessed she weighed nearly 
 three hundred, but the lightness of her smile and 
 the actual buoyancy which she somehow imparted 
 to her whole dominion lessened that by at least a 
 
 hundred- weight. She ballooned out to the horse- 
 
 138 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 139 
 
 block with a billowy rush somewhere between 
 bounding and soaring; and Miss Betty slid down 
 from the colt, who shied violently, to find herself 
 enveloped, in spite of the dome, in a vast surf of 
 green and red muslin. 
 
 "My charming girl!" exclaimed the lady vehe- 
 mently, in a voice of such husky richness, of such 
 merriment and unction of delight, that it fell upon 
 Miss Betty's ear with more of the quality of sheer 
 gayety than any she had ever heard. "Beautiful 
 child! What a beautiful child you are!" 
 
 She kissed the girl resoundingly on both cheeks; 
 stepped back from her and laughed, and clapped 
 her fat hands, which were covered with flashing 
 rings. "Oh, but you are a true blue Beauty! You're 
 a Princess! I am Mrs. Tanberry, Jane Tanberry, 
 young Janie Tanberry. I haven't seen you since 
 you were a baby and your pretty mother was a girl 
 like us!" 
 
 "You are so kind to come," said Betty hesitat- 
 ingly. "I shall try to be very obedient." 
 
 "Obedient!" Mrs. Tanberry uttered the word with 
 a shriek. "You'll be nothing of the kind. I am the 
 light-mindedest woman in the universe, and anyone 
 who obeyed me would be embroiled in everlasting 
 
140 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 trouble every second in the day. You'll. find that 
 / am the one that needs looking after, my charmer!" 
 
 She tapped Miss Betty's cheek with her jewelled 
 fingers as the two mounted the veranda steps. "It 
 will be worry enough for you to obey yourself; a 
 body sees that at the first blush. You have con- 
 science in your forehead and rebellion in your chin. 
 Ha, ha, ha!" Here Mrs. Tanberry sat upon, and 
 obliterated, a large chair, Miss Carewe taking a 
 stool at her knee. 
 
 "People of your age oughtn't to be bothered with 
 obeying; there'll be time enough for that when we 
 get old and can't enjoy anything. Ha, ha!" 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry punctuated her observations with 
 short volleys of husky laughter, so abrupt in both 
 discharge and cessation that, until Miss Betty be- 
 came accustomed to the habit, she was apt to start 
 slightly at each salvo. "I had a husband once," 
 the lady resumed, "but only once, my friend! He 
 had ideas like your father's your father is such an 
 imbecile! and he thought that wives, sisters, daugh- 
 ters, and such like ought to be obedient: that is, the 
 rest of the world was wrong unless it was right; and 
 right was just his own little, teeny-squeeny preju- 
 dices and emotions dressed up for a crazy mas- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 141 
 
 querade as Facts. Poor man! He only lasted about 
 a year!" And Mrs. Tanberry laughed heartily. 
 
 "They've been at me time and again to take an- 
 other." She lowered her voice and leaned toward 
 Betty confidentially. "Not I! I'd be willing to 
 engage myself to Crailey Gray (though Crailey 
 hasn't got round to me yet) for I don't mind just 
 being engaged, my dear; but they'll have to invent 
 something better than a man before I marry any 
 one of 'em again! But I love 'em, I do, the Charm- 
 ing Billies! And you'll see how they follow me!" 
 She patted the girl's shoulder, her small eyes beam- 
 ing quizzically. "We'll have the gayest house in 
 Rouen, ladybird! The young men all go to the 
 Bareaud's, but they'll come here now, and we'll 
 have the Bareauds along with 'em. I've been away 
 a long time, just finished unpacking yesterday night 
 when your father came in after the fire Whoo! 
 what a state he was in with that devilish temper of 
 his! Didn't I snap him up when he asked me to 
 come and stay with you? Ha, ha! I'd have come, 
 even if you hadn't been beautiful; but I was wild 
 to be your playmate, for I'd heard nothing but 
 'Miss Betty Carewe, Miss Betty Carewe* from 
 everybody I saw, since the minute my stage came 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 in. You set 'em all mad at your ball, and I knew 
 we'd make a glorious house-full, you and I! Some 
 of the vagabonds will turn up this very evening, 
 you'll see if they don't. Ha, ha! The way they 
 follow me!" 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry was irresistible: she filled the 
 whole place otherwise than by the mere material 
 voluminousness of her; bubbling over with froth of 
 nonsense which flew through the house, driven by 
 her energy, like sea-foam on a spring gale; and 
 the day, so discordantly begun for Miss Betty, 
 grew musical with her own laughter, answering the 
 husky staccato of the vivacious newcomer. Nelson 
 waited upon them at table, radiant, his smile like 
 the keyboard of an ebony piano, and his disap- 
 pearances into the kitchen were accomplished by 
 means of a surreptitious double-shuffle, and fol- 
 lowed by the cachinnating echoes of the vain Mamie's 
 reception of the visitor's sallies, which Nelson hastily 
 retailed in passing. 
 
 Nor was Mrs. Tanberry 's prediction allowed to go 
 unfulfilled regarding the advent of those persons 
 whom she had designated as vagabonds. It may 
 have been out of deference to Mr. Carewe's sense of 
 decorum (or from a cautious regard of what he was 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 143 
 
 liable to do when he considered that sense outraged) 
 that the gallants of Rouen had placed themselves 
 under the severe restraint of allowing three days to 
 elapse after their introduction to Miss Carewe be- 
 fore they "paid their respects at the house;" but, 
 be that as it may, the dictator was now safely under 
 way down the Rouen River, and Mrs. Tanberry 
 reigned in his stead. Thus, at about eight o'clock 
 that evening, the two ladies sat in the library en- 
 gaged in conversation though, for the sake of ac- 
 curacy, it should be said that Mrs. Tanberry was 
 engaged in conversation, Miss Betty in giving ear 
 when their attention was arrested by sounds of a 
 somewhat musical nature from the lawn, which 
 sounds were immediately identified as emanating 
 from a flute and violin. 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry bounded across the room like a 
 public building caught by a cyclone, and, dashing 
 at the candles, "Blow 'em out, blow 'em out!" she 
 exclaimed, suiting the action to the word in a fluster 
 of excitement. 
 
 "Why?" asked Miss Carewe, startled, as she rose 
 to her feet. The candles were out before the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "Why!" repeated the merry, husky voice in the 
 
144 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 darkness. "My goodness, child precious, those vaga- 
 bonds are here! To think of your never having been 
 serenaded before!" 
 
 She drew the girl to the window and pointed to a 
 group of dim figures near the lilac bushes. "The 
 dear, delightful vagabonds !" she chuckled. "I knew 
 they'd come! It's the beautiful Tappingham Marsh 
 with his fiddle, and young Jeff Bareaud with his 
 flute, and 'Gene Madrillon and little Frank Cheno- 
 with and thin Will Cummings to sing. Hark to the 
 rascals!" 
 
 It is perfectly truthful to say that the violin and 
 flute executed the prelude, and then the trio sounded 
 full on the evening air, the more effective chords 
 obligingly drawn out as long as the breath in the 
 singers could hold them, in order to allow the two 
 fair auditors complete benefit of the harmony. They 
 sang "The Harp that Once Thro' Tara's Halls," and 
 followed it with "Long, Long Ago." 
 
 "That" Mrs. Tanberry whispered, between stifled 
 gusts of almost uncontrollable laughter, "is meant 
 for just me!" 
 
 " Tell me the tales that to me were so dear" entreated 
 the trio. 
 
 "I told 'em plenty!" gurgled the enlivening widow. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 145 
 
 "And I expect between us we can get up some 
 
 more." 
 
 "Now you are come my grief is removed" they sang. 
 "They mean your father is on his way to St. 
 Louis," remarked Mrs. Tanberry. 
 
 "Let me forget that so long you have roved, 
 
 Let me believe that you love as you loved. 
 
 Long, long ago, long ago." 
 
 "Applaud, applaud!" whispered Mrs. Tanberry, 
 encouraging the minstrels by a hearty clapping of 
 hands. 
 
 Hereupon dissension arose among the quintette, 
 evidently a dispute in regard to their next selec- 
 tion; one of the gentlemen appearing more than 
 merely to suggest a solo by himself, while the others 
 too frankly expressed adverse opinions upon the 
 value of the offering. The argument became heated, 
 and in spite of many a "Sh!" and "Not so loud!" 
 the ill-suppressed voice of the intending soloist, Mr. 
 Chenoweth, could be heard vehemently to exclaim: 
 "I will! I learned it especially for this occasion. I 
 will sing it!" 
 
 His determination, patently, was not to be balked 
 without physical encounter, consequently he was 
 permitted to advance some paces from the lilac 
 
146 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 bushes, where he delivered himself, in an earnest 
 and plaintive tenor, of the following morbid in- 
 structions, to which the violin played an obligate 
 in tremulo, so execrable, and so excruciatingly dis- 
 cordant, that Mr. Chenoweth's subsequent charge 
 that it was done with a deliberately evil intention 
 could never be successfully opposed: 
 
 "Go! Forget me! Why should Sorrow 
 
 O'er that brow a shadow fling? 
 Go! Forget me, and, to-morrow. 
 Brightly smile and sweetly singf 
 
 Smile! tko' I may not be near thee; 
 Smile! tko' I may never see thee; 
 May thy soul with pleasure shine 
 Lasting as this gloom of yiinel" 
 
 Miss Care we complied at once with the request; 
 while her companion, unable to stop with the slight 
 expression of pleasure demanded by the songster, 
 threw herself upon a sofa and gave way to the mirth 
 that consumed her. 
 
 Then the candles were relit, the serenaders in- 
 vited within; Nelson came bearing cake and wine, 
 and the house was made merry. Presently, the 
 romp, Virginia Bereaud, making her appearance on 
 the arm of General Trumble, Mrs. Tanberry led 
 
THE TWO VANKEVELS 147 
 
 them all in a hearty game of Blind-man's Buff, fol- 
 lowed by as hearty a dancing of Dan Tucker. After 
 that, a quadrille being proposed, Mrs. Tanberry 
 suggested that Jefferson should run home and bring 
 Fanchon for the fourth lady. However, Virginia 
 explained that she had endeavored to persuade her 
 sister and Mr. Gray to accompany the General and 
 herself, but that Mr. Gray had complained of in- 
 disposition, having suffered greatly from headache, 
 on account of inhaling so much smoke at the ware- 
 house fire; and, of course, Fanchon would not leave 
 him. (Miss Carewe permitted herself the slightest 
 shrug of the shoulders.) 
 
 So they danced the quadrille with Jefferson at 
 the piano and Mr. Marsh performing in the char- 
 acter of a lady, a proceeding most unacceptable to 
 the General, whom Mrs. Tanberry forced to be his 
 partner. And thus the evening passed gayly away, 
 and but too quickly, to join the ghosts of all the 
 other evenings since time began; and each of the 
 little company had added a cheerful sprite to the 
 long rows of those varied shades that the after 
 years bring to revisit us, so many with pathetic re- 
 proach, so many bearing a tragic burden of faces 
 that we cannot make even to weep again, and so 
 
148 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 few with simple merriment and lightheartedness. 
 Tappingham Marsh spoke the truth, indeed, when 
 he exclaimed in parting, "O rare Mrs. Tanberry!" 
 
 But the house had not done with serenades that 
 night. The guests had long since departed; the 
 windows were still and dark under the wan old 
 moon, which had risen lamely, looking unfamiliar 
 and not half itself; the air bore an odor of lateness, 
 and nothing moved; when a delicate harmony stole 
 out of the shadows beyond the misty garden. Low 
 but resonant chords sounded on the heavier strings 
 of a guitar, while above them, upon the lighter 
 wires, rippled a slender, tinkling melody that wooed 
 the slumberer to a delicious half-wakefulness, as 
 dreamily, as tenderly, as the croon of rain on the 
 roof soothes a child to sleep. Under the artist's 
 cunning touch the instrument was both the ac- 
 companiment and the song; and Miss Betty, at 
 first taking the music to be a wandering thread in 
 the fabric of her own bright dreams, drifted grad- 
 ually to consciousness to find herself smiling. Her 
 eyes opened wide, but half closed again with the 
 ineffable sweetness of the sound. 
 
 Then a voice was heard, eerily low, yet gallant 
 and clear, a vibrant baritone, singing to the guitar: 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 149 
 
 "My lady's hair, 
 
 That dark delight. 
 Is both as fair 
 
 And dusk as night. 
 I know some lovelorn hearts that beat 
 In time to moonbeam twinklings fleet. 
 That dance and glance like jewels there, 
 Emblazoning the raven hair! 
 
 "Ah, raven hair! 
 
 So dark and bright. 
 What loves lie there 
 
 Enmeshed, to-night? 
 I know some sighing lads that say 
 Their hearts were snared and torn away; 
 And now as pearls one fate they share, 
 Entangled in the raven hair. 
 
 "Ah, raven hair, 
 
 From such a plight 
 Could you not spare 
 
 One acolyte? 
 
 I know a broken heart that went 
 To serve you but as ornament. 
 Alas! a ruby now you wear. 
 Ensanguining the raven hair! 1 * 
 
 The song had grown fainter and fainter, the 
 singer moving away as he sang, and the last lines 
 were almost inaudible in the distance. The guitar 
 could be heard for a moment or two more, then 
 
150 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 silence came again. It was broken by a rustling in 
 the room next to Miss Betty's, and Mrs. Tanberry 
 called softly through the open door: 
 
 "Princess, are you awake? Did you hear that 
 serenade?" 
 
 After a pause the answer came hesitatingly in a 
 small, faltering voice: "Yes if it was one. I 
 thought perhaps he was only singing as he passed 
 along the street." 
 
 "Aha!" ejaculated Mrs. Tanberry, abruptly, as 
 though she had made an unexpected discovery. 
 "You knew better; and this was a serenade that 
 you did not laugh at. Beautiful, I wouldn't let it 
 go any farther, even while your father is gone. 
 Something might occur that would bring him home 
 without warning such things have happened. Tom 
 Vanrevel ought to be kept far away from this house." 
 
 "Oh, it was not he," returned Miss Betty, quickly. 
 "It was Mr. Gray. Didn't you " 
 
 "My dear," interrupted the other, "Crailey Gray's 
 specialty is talking. Most of the vagabonds can 
 sing and play a bit, and so can Crailey, particularly 
 when he's had a few bowls of punch; but when Tom 
 Vanrevel touches the guitar and lifts up his voice 
 to smg. there isn't an angel in heaven that wouldn't 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 151 
 
 quit the place and come to hear him ! Crailey wrote 
 those words to Virginia Bareaud. (Her hair is even 
 darker than yours, you know.) That was when he 
 was being engaged to her; and Tom must have set 
 the music to 'em lately, and now comes here to sing 
 'em to you; and well enough they fit you! But you 
 must keep him away, Princess." 
 
 Nevertheless, Betty knew the voice was not that 
 which had bid her look to the stars, and she re- 
 mained convinced that it belonged to Mr. Crailey 
 Gray, who hid been too ill, a few hours earlier, to 
 leave the Bareaud house, and now, with Fanchon's 
 kisses on his lips, came stealing into her garden and 
 sang to her a song he had made for another girl ! 
 
 And the angels would leave heaven to listen when 
 he sang, would they? Poor Fanchon! No wonder 
 she held him so tightly in leading strings! He 
 might risk his life all he wished at the end of a 
 grappling-ladder, dangling in a fiery cloud above 
 nothing; but when it came to ah, well, poor Fan- 
 chon! Did she invent the headaches for him, or 
 did she make him invent them for himself? 
 
 If there was one person in the world whom Miss 
 Betty held in bitter contempt and scorn, it was the 
 owner of that voice and that guitar. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 ECHOES OF A SERENADE 
 
 MORE than three gentlemen of Rouen wore 
 their hearts in their eyes for any fool to 
 gaze upon; but three was the number of 
 those who told then* love before the end of the first 
 week of Mr. Carewe's absence, and told it in spite 
 of Mrs. Tanberry's utmost effort to preserve, at all 
 times, a conjunction between herself and Miss Betty. 
 For the good lady, foreseeing these declarations 
 much more surely than did the subject of them, 
 wished to spare her lovely charge the pain of listen- 
 ing to them. 
 
 Miss Carewe honored each of the lorn three with 
 a few minutes of gravity; but the gentle refusal 
 prevented never a swain from being as truly her 
 follower as before; not that she resorted to the poor 
 device of half-dismissal, the every-day method of 
 the school-girl flirt, who thus keeps the lads in 
 dalliance, but because, even for the rejected, it was 
 
 a delight to be near her. For that matter, it is 
 
 152 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 153 
 
 said that no one ever had enough of the mere look- 
 ing at her. Also, her talk was enlivening even to 
 the lively, being spiced with surprising turns and 
 amiably seasoned with the art of bandinage. To 
 use the phrase of the time, she possessed the accom- 
 plishments, an antiquated charm now on the point 
 of disappearing, so carefully has it been snubbed 
 under whenever exhibited. The pursuing wraith of 
 the young, it comes to sit, a ghost at every banquet, 
 driving the flower of our youth to unheard-of exer- 
 tions in search of escape, to dubious diplomacy, to 
 dismal inaction, or to wine; yet time was when they 
 set then* hearts on "the accomplishments." 
 
 Miss Betty Carewe at her harp, ah! it was a 
 dainty picture: the clear profile, with the dark hair 
 low across the temple, silhouetted duskily, in the 
 cool, shadowy room, against the open window; the 
 slender figure, one arm curving between you and the 
 strings, the other gleaming behind them; the deli- 
 cate little sandal stealing from the white froth of 
 silk and lace to caress the pedal; the nimble hands 
 fluttering across the long strands, "Like white blos- 
 soms borne on slanting lines of rain;" and the great 
 gold harp rising to catch a javelin of sunshine that 
 pierced the vines at the window where the honey- 
 
154 THE TWO VANKEVELS 
 
 suckles swung their skirts to the refrain it was a 
 picture to return many a long year afterward, and 
 thrill the reveries of old men who were then young. 
 And, following the light cascading ripples of the 
 harp, when her low contralto lifted in one of the 
 "old songs," she often turned inquiringly to see if 
 the listener liked the music, and her brilliant, dark 
 eyes would rest on his with an appeal that blinded 
 his entranced soul. She meant it for the mere 
 indication of a friendly wish to suit his tastes, but 
 it looked like the divine humility of love. Nobody 
 wondered that General Trumble should fall to verse- 
 making in his old age. 
 
 She sketched magnificently. This is the very 
 strongest support for the assertion: Frank Chen- 
 oweth and Tappingham Marsh agreed, with tears 
 of enthusiasm, that "magnificently" was the only 
 word. They came to this conclusion as they sat to- 
 gether at the end of a long dinner (at which very 
 little had been eaten) after a day's picnic by the 
 river. Miss Carewe had been of their company, 
 and Tappingham and Chenoweth found each his 
 opportunity in the afternoon. The party was small, 
 and no one had been able to effect a total uncon- 
 sciousness of the manoeuvres of the two gentlemen. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 155 
 
 Even Fanchon Bareaud comprehended languidly, 
 though she was more blurred than ever, and her 
 far-away eyes belied the mechanical vivacity of her 
 manner, for Crailey was thirty miles down the river, 
 with a fishing-rod neatly packed in a leather case. 
 
 Mr. Vanrevel, of course, was not invited; no one 
 would have thought of asking him to join a small 
 party of which Robert Carewe's daughter was to 
 be a member. But it was happiness enough for 
 Tom, that night, to lie hidden in the shrubbery, 
 looking up at the stars between the leaves, while he 
 listened to her harp, and borne through the open 
 window on enchanted airs, the voice of Elizabeth 
 Care we singing "Robin Adair." 
 
 It was now that the town indulged its liveliest 
 spirit; never an evening lacked its junketing, while 
 the happy folk of Rouen set the early summer to 
 music. Serenade, dance, and song for them, the 
 light-hearts, young and old making gay together! 
 It was all laughter, either in sunshine or by candle- 
 light, undisturbed by the far thunder below the 
 southern horizon, where Zachary Taylor had pitched 
 his tent, upon the Rio Grande. 
 
 One fair evening, soon after that excursion which 
 had proved fatal to the hopes of the handsome Tap- 
 
156 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 pingham and of the youthful Chenoweth, it was the 
 privilege of Mr. Thomas Vanrevel to assist Miss 
 Carewe and her chaperon from their carriage, as 
 they drove up to a dance at the Bareauds'. This 
 good fortune fell only to great deserving, for he 
 had spent an hour lurking outside the house in the 
 hope of performing such offices for them. 
 
 Heaven was in his soul and the breath departed 
 out of his body, when, after a moment of hesitation, 
 Miss Betty's little lace-gauntleted glove was placed 
 in his hand, and her white slipper shimmered out 
 from the lilac flounces of her dress to fa!I like a 
 benediction, he thought, on each of the c triage- 
 steps. 
 
 It was the age of garlands; they wreathed the 
 Muses, the Seasons, and their speech, so the women 
 wore wreaths hi their hair, and Miss Betty's that 
 night was of marguerites. "Read your fortune in 
 them all," whispered Tom's heart, "and of whom- 
 soever you wish to learn, every petal will say, 'He 
 loves you; none declare, He loves you not!'" 
 
 She bowed slightly, but did not speak to him, 
 which was perhaps a better reception than that ac- 
 corded the young man by her companion. "Oh, it's 
 you, is it!" was Mrs. Tanberry's courteous obser- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 157 
 
 vation as she canted the vehicle in her descent. She 
 looked sharply at Miss Betty, and even the small 
 glow of the carriage-lamps showed that the girl's 
 cheeks had flushed very red. Mr. Vanrevel, on the 
 contrary, was pale. 
 
 They stood for a moment in awkward silence, 
 while, from the lighted house where the flying figures 
 circled, came the waltz: "I dreamt that I dwe-helt 
 in ma-har-ble halls." Tom's own dreams were much 
 wilder than the gypsy girl's; he knew that; yet he 
 spoke out bravely: 
 
 "Will you dance the two first with me?" 
 
 Miss Betty bit her lip, frowned, turned away, and, 
 vouchsafing no reply, walked toward the house with 
 her eyes fixed on the ground; but just as they 
 reached the door she flashed over him a look that 
 scorched him from head to foot, and sent his spirits 
 down through the soles of his boots to excavate 
 a grotto in the depths of the earth, so charged it 
 was with wrathful pity and contempt. 
 
 "Yes!" she said abruptly, and followed Mrs. Tan- 
 berry to the dressing-room. 
 
 The elder lady shook her head solemnly as she 
 emerged from the enormous folds of a yellow silk 
 cloak. "Ah, Princess," she said, touching the girl's 
 
158 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 shoulder with her jewelled hand, "I told you I was 
 a very foolish woman, and I am, but not so foolish 
 as to offer advice often. Yet, believe me, it won't 
 do. I think that i* one of the greatest young men 
 I ever knew, and it's a pity but it won't do." 
 
 Miss Betty kept her face away from her guardian 
 for a moment. No inconsiderable amount of infor- 
 mation had drifted to her, from here and there, re- 
 garding the career of Crailey Gray, and she thought 
 how intensely she would have hated any person in 
 the world except Mrs. Tanberry for presuming to 
 think she needed to be warned against the charms of 
 this serenading lady-killer, who was the property of 
 another girl. 
 
 "You must keep him away, I think," ventured 
 Mrs. Tanberry, gently. 
 
 At that Betty turned to her and said, sharply: 
 
 "I will. After this, please let us never speak of 
 him again." 
 
 A slow nod of the other's turbaned head indi- 
 cated the gravest acquiescence. She saw that her 
 companion's cheeks were still crimson. "I under- 
 stand," said she. 
 
 A buzz of whispering, like a July beetle, followed 
 Miss Carewe and her partner about the room dur- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 159 
 
 ing the next dance. How had Tom managed it? 
 Had her father never told her? Who had dared to 
 introduce them? Fanchon was the only one who 
 knew, and as she whirled by with Will Cummings, 
 she raised her absent glance long enough to give 
 Tom an affectionate and warning shake of the head. 
 
 Tom did not see this; Miss Care we did. Alas! 
 She smiled upon him instantly and looked deep 
 into his eyes. It was the third time. 
 
 She was not afraid of this man-flirt; he was to 
 be settled with once and forever. She intended to 
 avenge both Fanchon and herself; yet it is a haz- 
 ardous game, this piercing of eye with eye, because 
 the point which seeks to penetrate may soften and 
 melt, leaving one defenceless. For perhaps ten 
 seconds that straight look lasted, while it seemed 
 to her that she read clear into the soul of him, and 
 to behold it, through some befooling magic, as 
 strong, tender, wise, and true, as his outward ap- 
 pearance would have made an innocent stranger 
 believe him; for he looked all these things; she ad- 
 mitted that much; and he had an air of distinction 
 and resource beyond any she had ever known, even 
 in the wild scramble for her kitten he had not lost 
 it. So, for ten seconds, which may be a long time, 
 
160 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 she saw a man such as she had dreamed, and she 
 did not believe her sight, because she had no desire 
 to be as credulous as the others, to be as easily 
 cheated as that poor Fanchon! 
 
 The luckless Tom found his own feet beautiful 
 on the mountains, and, treading the heights with 
 airy steps, appeared to himself wonderful and glori- 
 fied he was waltzing with Miss Betty ! He breathed 
 the entrancing words to himself, over and over: it 
 was true, he was waltzing with Miss Betty Care we! 
 Her glove lay warm and light within his own; his 
 fingers clasped that ineffable lilac and white brocade 
 waist. Sometimes her hair came within an inch of 
 his cheek, and then he rose outright from the hilltops 
 and floated in a golden mist. The glamour of which 
 the Incroyable had planned to tell her some day, 
 surrounded Tom, and it seemed to him that the 
 whole world was covered with a beautiful light like 
 a carpet, which was but the radiance of this adorable 
 girl whom his gloves and coat-sleeves were permitted 
 to touch. When the music stopped, they followed 
 in the train of other couples seeking the coolness of 
 out-of-doors for the interval, and Tom, in his soul, 
 laughed at all other men with illimitable condescen- 
 sion. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 161 
 
 "Stop here," she said, as they reached the open 
 gate. He was walking out of it, his head in the air, 
 and Miss Betty on his arm. Apparently, he would 
 have walked straight across the State. It was the 
 happiest moment he had ever known. 
 
 He wanted to say something wonderful to her; 
 his speech should be like the music and glory and 
 fire that was in him; therefore he was shocked to 
 hear himself remarking, with an inanity of utter- 
 ance that sickened him: 
 
 "Oh, here's the gate, isn't it?" 
 
 Her answer was a short laugh. "You mean you 
 wish to persuade me that you had forgotten it was 
 there?" 
 
 "I did not see it," he protested, lamentably. 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "I wasn't thinking of it." 
 
 "Indeed! You were 'lost in thoughts of " 
 
 "Of you!" he said, before he could check himself. 
 
 "Yes?" Her tone was as quietly contemptuous 
 as she could make it. "How very frank of you! 
 May I ask: Are you convinced that speeches of 
 that sort are always to a lady's liking?" 
 
 "No," he answered humbly, and hung his head. 
 Then she threw the question at him abruptly: 
 
162 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Was it you who came to sing in our garden?" 
 
 There was a long pause before a profound sigh 
 came tremulously from the darkness, like a sad and 
 tender confession. "Yes." 
 
 "I thought so!" she exclaimed. "Mrs. Tan- 
 berry thought it was someone else; but I knew that 
 it was you." 
 
 "Yes, you are right," he said, quietly. "It was I. 
 It was my only way to tell you what you know now." 
 
 "Of course!" She set it all aside with those two 
 words and the slightest gesture of her hand. "It 
 was a song made for another girl, I believe?" she 
 asked lightly, and with an icy smile, inquired far- 
 ther: "For the one the one before the last, I un- 
 derstand?" 
 
 He lifted his head, surprised. "What has that 
 to do with it? The music was made for you but 
 then, I think all music was made for you." 
 
 "Leave the music out of it, if you please," she 
 said, impatiently. "Your talents make you mod- 
 est! No doubt you consider it unmaidenly in me 
 to have referred to the serenade before you spoke 
 of it; but I am not one to cast down my eyes and 
 let it pass. No, nor one too sweet to face the truth, 
 either!" she cried with sudden passion. "To sing 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 163 
 
 that song in the way you did, meant oh, you 
 thought I would flirt with you! What right had 
 you to come with such a song to me?" 
 
 Tom intended only to disclaim the presumption, 
 so far from his thoughts, that his song had moved 
 her, for he could see that her attack was prompted 
 by her inexplicable impression that he had assumed 
 the attitude of a conqueror, but his explanation be- 
 gan unfortunately. 
 
 "Forgive me. I think you have completely mis- 
 understood; you thought it meant something I did 
 not intend, at all, and " 
 
 "What!" she said, and her eyes blazed, for now 
 she beheld him as the arrant sneak of the world. 
 He, the lady-killer, with hypocritical air of strength 
 and melancholy sweetness, the leader of drunken 
 revels, and, by reputation, the town Lothario and 
 Light-o'-Love, under promise of marriage to Fanchon 
 Bareaud, had tried to make love to another girl, 
 and now his cowardice in trying to disclaim what 
 he had done lent him the insolence to say to this 
 other: "My child, you are betrayed by your youth 
 and conceit; you exaggerate my meaning. I had 
 no intention to distinguish you by coquetting with 
 you!" This was her interpretation of him; and her 
 
164 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 indignation was not lessened by the inevitable con- 
 clusion that he, who had been through so many 
 scenes with women, secretly found her simplicity 
 diverting. Miss Betty had a little of her father in 
 her; while it was part of her youth, too, that, of all 
 things she could least endure the shadow of a smile 
 at her own expense. 
 
 "Oh, oh!" she cried, her voice shaking with anger. 
 "I suppose your bad heart is half -choked with your 
 laughter at me." 
 
 She turned from him swiftly, and left him. 
 
 Almost running, she entered the house, and hur- 
 ried to a seat by Mrs. Tanberry, nestling to her 
 like a young sapling on a hillside. Instantaneously, 
 several gentlemen, who had hastily acquitted them- 
 selves of various obligations in order to seek her, 
 sprang forward with eager greetings, so that when 
 the stricken Tom, dazed and confounded by his evil 
 luck, followed her at about five paces, he found him- 
 self confronted by an impenetrable abbatis formed 
 by the spiked tails of the coats of General Trumble, 
 Madrillon, Tappingham Marsh, Cummings and 
 Jefferson Bareaud. Within this fortification rang 
 out laughter and sally from Miss Carewe; her color 
 was high and her eyes sparkled never more brightly. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 165 
 
 Flourish and alarums sounded for a quadrille. 
 Each of the semi-circle, firmly elbowing his neigh- 
 bor, begged the dance of Miss Betty; but Tom was 
 himself again, and laid a long, strong hand on Ma- 
 drillon's shoulder, pressed him gently aside, and said: 
 
 "Forgive me; Miss Care we has honored me by 
 the promise of this quadrille." 
 
 He bowed, offering his arm, and none of them 
 was too vain to envy that bow and gesture. 
 
 For a moment he remained waiting. Miss Carewe 
 rose slowly, and, directly facing him, said in com- 
 posed and even voice: "You force me to beg you 
 never to address me again." 
 
 She placed her hand on the General's arm, turn- 
 ing her back squarely upon Tom. 
 
 In addition to those who heard, many persons in 
 that part of the room saw the affront and paused 
 in arrested attitudes; others, observing these, turned 
 inquiringly, so that sudden silence fell, broken only 
 by the voice of Miss Betty as she moved away, talk- 
 ing cheerily to the General. Tom was left stand- 
 ing alone in the broken semicircle. 
 
 All the eyes swept from her to him and back; 
 then everyone began to talk hastily about nothing. 
 The young man's humiliation was public. 
 
166 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 He went to the door under cover of the movement 
 of the various couples to find places in the quadrille, 
 yet every sidelong glance in the room still rested 
 upon him and he knew it. He remained in the hall, 
 alone, through that dance, and at its conclusion, 
 walked slowly through the rooms, speaking to people, 
 here and there, as though nothing had happened, 
 but when the music sounded again, he went to the 
 dressing-room, found his hat and cloak, and left the 
 house. For a while he stood on the opposite side 
 of the street, watching the lighted windows, and twice 
 he caught sight of the lilac and white brocade, the 
 dark hair, and the wreath of marguerites. Then, 
 with a hot pain in his breast, and the step of a Gren- 
 adier, he marched down the street. 
 
 In the carriage Mrs. Tanberry took Betty's hand 
 in hers. "I'll do as you wish, child," she said, "and 
 never speak to you of him again as long as I live, 
 except this once. I think it was best for his own 
 sake as well as yours, but " 
 
 "He needed a lesson," interrupted Miss Betty, 
 wearily. She had danced long and hard, and she 
 was very tired. 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry's staccato laugh came out irre- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 1G7 
 
 pressibly. "All the vagabonds do, Princess!" she 
 cried. "And I think they are getting it." 
 
 "No, no, I don't mean 
 
 "We've turned their heads, my dear, between 
 us, you and I; and we'll have to turn 'em again, or 
 they'll break their necks looking over their shoul- 
 ders at us, the owls!" She pressed the girl's hand 
 affectionately. "But you'll let me say something 
 just once, and forgive me because we're the same 
 foolish age, you know. It's only this: The next 
 young man you suppress, take him off in a corner! 
 Lead him away from the crowd there he won't have 
 to stand and let them look at him afterward. That's 
 all, my dear, and you mustn't mind." 
 
 "I'm not sorry!" said Miss Betty hotly. 'Tm 
 not sorry!" 
 
 "No, no," said Mrs. Tanberry, soothingly. "It 
 was better this time to do just what you did. I'd 
 have done it myself, to make quite sure he would 
 keep away because I like him." 
 
 "I'm not sorry!" said Miss Betty again. 
 
 "I'm not sorry!" she repeated and reiterated to 
 herself after Mrs. Tanberry had gone to bed. She 
 had sunk into a chair in the library with a book, 
 and "I'm not sorry!" she whispered as the open 
 
168 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 unread page blurred before her, "I'm not sorry!" 
 He had needed his lesson; but she had to bear the 
 recollection of how white his face went when he re- 
 ceived it. Her affront had put about him a strange 
 loneliness: the one figure with the stilled crowd 
 staring; it had made a picture from which her mind's 
 eye had been unable to escape, danced she never 
 so hard and late. Unconsciously, Robert Carewe's 
 daughter had avenged the other figure which had 
 stood in lonely humiliation before the staring 
 eyes. 
 
 "I'm not sorry!" Ah, did they think it was in 
 her to hurt any living thing in the world? The 
 book dropped from her lap, and she bowed her head 
 upon her hands. "I'm not sorry!" and tears upon 
 the small lace gauntlets! 
 
 She saw them, and with an incoherent exclama- 
 tion, half self-pitying, half impatient, ran out to 
 the stars above her garden. 
 
 She was there for perhaps half an hour, and just 
 before she returned to the house she did a singular 
 thing. 
 
 Standing where all was clear to the sky, where 
 she had stood after her talk with the Incroyable, 
 when he had bid her look to the stars, she raised her 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 169 
 
 arms to them again, her face, pale with a great ten- 
 derness, uplifted. 
 
 "You, you, you!" she whispered, "/ love you!" 
 And yet it was to nothing definite, to no man, 
 nor outline of a man, to no phantom nor dream- 
 lover, that she spoke; neither to him she had af- 
 fronted, nor to him who had bidden her look to the 
 stars. Nor was it to the stars themselves. 
 
 She returned slowly and thoughtfully to the 
 house, wondering what she had meant. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 A VOICE IN A GARDEN 
 
 CRAILEY came home the next day with a 
 new poem, but no fish. He lounged up the 
 stairs, late in the afternoon, humming 
 cheerfully to himself, and, dropping his rod in a 
 corner of Tom's office, laid the poem on the desk 
 before his partner, produced a large, newly re- 
 plenished flask, opened it, stretched himself com- 
 fortably upon a capacious horse-hair sofa, drank a 
 deep draught, chuckled softly, and requested Mr. 
 Vanrevel to set the rhymes to music immediately. 
 
 "Try it on your instrument," he said. "It's a 
 simple verse about nothing but stars, and you can 
 work it out in twenty minutes with the guitar." 
 
 "It is broken," said Tom, not looking up from 
 his work. 
 
 "Broken! When?" 
 
 "Last night." 
 
 "Who broke it?" 
 
 "It fell from the table in my room." 
 
 170 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 171 
 
 "How? Easily mended, isn't it?" 
 
 "I think I shall not play it soon again." 
 
 Crailey swung his long legs off the sofa and ab- 
 ruptly sat upright. "What's this?" he asked 
 gravely. 
 
 Tom pushed his papers away from him, rose and 
 went to the dusty window that looked to the west, 
 where, at the end of the long street, the sun was 
 setting behind the ruin of charred timbers on the 
 bank of the shining river. 
 
 "It seems that I played once too often," he said. 
 
 Crailey was thoroughly astonished. He took a 
 long, affectionate pull at the flask and offered it to 
 his partner. 
 
 "No," said Tom, turning to him with a troubled 
 face, "and if I were you, I wouldn't either. These 
 fishing trips of yours 
 
 "Fishing!" Crailey laughed. "Trips of a poet, 
 aster! It's then I write best, and write I will! 
 There's a poem, and a damned good one, too, old 
 preacher, in every gill of whiskey, and I'm the lad 
 that can extract it! Lord! what's better than to 
 be out in the open, all by yourself in the woods, cr 
 on the river? Think of the long nights alone with 
 the glory of heaven and a good demijohn. Why, 
 
172 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 a man's thoughts are like actors performing in the 
 air and all the crowding stars for audience! You 
 know in your soul you'd rather have me out there, 
 going it all by myself, than raising thunder over 
 town. And you know, too, it doesn't tell on me; it 
 doesn't show! You couldn't guess, to save your 
 life, how much I've had to-day, now, could you?" 
 
 "Yes," returned the other, "I could." 
 
 "Well, well," said Crailey, good-naturedly, "we 
 weren't talking of me." He set down the flask, 
 went to his friend and dropped a hand lightly on his 
 shoulder. "What made you break the guitar? 
 Tell me." 
 
 "What makes you think I broke it?" asked his 
 partner sharply. 
 
 "Tell me why you did it," said Crailey. 
 
 And Tom, pacing the room, told him, while 
 Crailey stood in silence, looking him eagerly in the 
 eye whenever Tom turned his way. The listener in- 
 terrupted seldom; once it was to exclaim: 
 
 "But you haven't said why you broke the gui- 
 tar?" 
 
 "'If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out!' I ought 
 to have cut off the hands that played to her." 
 
 "And cut your throat for singing to her?" 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 173 
 
 "She was right!" the other answered, striding 
 up and down the room. "Right a thousand times! 
 in everything she did. That I should even ap- 
 proach her, was an unspeakable insolence. I had 
 forgotten, and so, possibly, had she, but I had not 
 even been properly introduced to her." 
 
 "No, you hadn't, that's true," observed Crailey, 
 reflectively. "You don't seem to have much to re- 
 proach her with, Tom." 
 
 "Reproach her!" cried the other. "That I should 
 dream she would speak to me or have anything to 
 do with me, was to cast a doubt upon her loyalty 
 as a daughter. She was right, I say! And she 
 did the only thing she could do; rebuked me before 
 them all. No one ever merited what he got more 
 roundly than I deserved that. Who was I, in her 
 . eyes, that I should besiege her with my importuni- 
 ties, who but her father's worst enemy?" 
 
 Deep anxiety knitted Crailey 's brow. "I under- 
 stood she knew of the quarrel," he said, thought- 
 fully. "I saw that, the other evening when I helped 
 her out of the crowd. She spoke of it on the way 
 home, I remember; but how did she know that you 
 were Vanrevel? No one in town would be apt to 
 mention you to her." 
 
174 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "No, but she did know, you see." 
 
 "Yes," returned Mr. Gray slowly. "So it seems! 
 Probably her father told her to avoid you, and 
 described you so that she recognized you as the man 
 who caught the kitten." 
 
 He paused, picked up the flask, and again ap- 
 plied himself to its contents, his eyes peering over 
 the up-tilted vessel at Tom, who continued to pace 
 up and down the length of the office. After a time, 
 Crailey, fumbling in his coat, found a long che- 
 root, and, as he lit it, inquired casually. 
 
 "Do you remember if she addressed you by name?" 
 
 "I think not," Tom answered, halting. "What 
 does it matter?" 
 
 Crailey drew a deep breath. 
 
 "It doesn't," he returned. 
 
 "She knew me well enough," said Tom, sadly, as 
 he resumed his sentry-go. 
 
 "Yes," repeated Crailey, deliberately. "So it 
 seems; so it seems!" He blew a long stream of 
 smoke out into the air before him, and softly mur- 
 mured again: "So it seems, so it seems." 
 
 Silence fell, broken only by the sound of Tom's 
 footsteps, until, presently, some one informally 
 shouted his name from the street below. It was 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 175 
 
 only Will Cummings, passing the time of day, but 
 when Tom turned from the window after answering 
 him, Crailey, his poem, and his flask were gone. 
 
 That evening Vanrevel sat in the dusty office, 
 driving himself to his work with a sharp goad, for 
 there was a face that came between him and all 
 else in the world, and a voice that sounded always 
 in his ears. But the work was done before he rose 
 from his chair, though he showed a haggard 
 visage as he bent above his candles to blow them 
 out. 
 
 It was eleven o'clock; Crailey had not come back, 
 and Tom knew that his light-hearted friend would 
 not return for many hours; and so, having no mind 
 to read, and no belief that he could if he tried, he 
 went out to walk the streets. He went down to the 
 river first, and stood for a little while gazing at the 
 ruins of the two warehouses, and that was like a 
 man with a headache beating his skull against a 
 wall. As he stood on the blackened wharf, he saw 
 how the charred beams rose above him against the 
 sky like a gallows, and it seemed to him that noth- 
 ing could have been a better symbol, for here he 
 had hanged his self-respect. "Reproach her!" He, 
 
176 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 who had so displayed his imbecility before her! 
 Had he been her father's best friend, he should have 
 had too great a sense of shame to dare to speak to 
 her after that night when her quiet intelligence had 
 exhibited him to himself, and to all the world, as 
 nought else than a fool and a noisy one at 
 that! 
 
 Suddenly a shudder convulsed him; he struck his 
 open palm across his forehead and spoke aloud, 
 while, from horizon to horizon, the night air grew 
 thick with the whispered laughter of observing hob- 
 goblins: 
 
 "And even if there had been no stairway, we 
 could have slid down the hose-line!" 
 
 He retraced his steps, a tall, gray figure moving 
 slowly through the blue darkness, and his lips 
 formed the heart-sick shadow of a smile when he 
 found that he had unconsciously turned into Carewe 
 Street. Presently he came to a gap in a hedge, 
 through which he had sometimes stolen to hear the 
 sound of a harp and a girl's voice singing; but he 
 did not enter there to-night, though he paused a 
 moment, his head bowed on his breast. 
 
 There came a sound of voices; they seemed to be 
 moving toward the hedge, toward the gap where 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 177 
 
 he stood; one a man's eager, quick, but very musical ; 
 the other, a girl's, a rich and clear contralto that 
 passed into Tom's soul like a psalm of rejoicing and 
 like a scimitar of flame. He shivered, and moved 
 away quickly, but not before the man's voice, some- 
 what louder for the moment, came distinctly from 
 the other side of the hedge: 
 
 "After all," said the voice, with a ripple of laugh- 
 ter, "after all, weren't you a little hard on that poor 
 Mr. Gray?" 
 
 Tom did not understand, but he knew the voice. 
 It was that of Crailey Gray. 
 
 He heard the same voice again that night, and 
 again stood unseen. Long after midnight he was 
 still tramping the streets on his lonely rounds, 
 when he chanced to pass the Rouen House, which 
 hostelry bore, to the uninitiated eye, the appear- 
 ance of having closed its doors upon all hospitalities 
 for the night, in strict compliance with the law of 
 the city fathers, yet a slender wand of bright light 
 might be discovered underneath the street door of 
 the bar-room. 
 
 From within the merry retreat issued an uproar 
 of shouting, raucous laughter and the pounding of 
 glasses on tables, heralding all too plainly the hy- 
 
178 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 pocrisy of the landlord, and possibly that of the 
 city fathers also. Tom knew what company was 
 gathered there: gamblers, truckmen, drunken farm- 
 ers, men from the river steamers making riot while 
 their boats lay at the wharf, with a motley gather- 
 ing of good-for-nothings of the back-alleys, and 
 tippling clerks from the Main Street stores. There 
 came loud cries for a song, and, in answer, the voice 
 of Crailey rose over the general din, somewhat 
 hoarse, and never so musical when he sang as when 
 he spoke, yet so touching in its dramatic tenderness 
 that soon the noise fell away, and the roisterers 
 sat quietly to listen. It was not the first time Ben 
 Jonson's song had stilled a disreputable company. 
 
 '/ sent Ihee late a rosy wreath, 
 
 Not so much honoring thee, 
 As giving it the hope that there 
 
 It might not withered be." 
 
 Perhaps, just then, Vanrevel would have wished 
 to hear him sing anything in the world rather than 
 that, for on Crailey 's lips it carried too much mean- 
 ing to-night, after the voice in the garden. And 
 Tom lingered no more near the betraying silver of 
 light beneath the door than he had by the gap in 
 the hedge, but went steadily on his way. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 179 
 
 Not far from the hotel he passed a small build- 
 ing brightly lighted and echoing with unusual 
 clamors of industry: the office of the Rouen Journal. 
 The press was going, and Mr. Cummings's thin 
 figure crossed and recrossed the windows, while his 
 voice could be heard energetically bidding his as- 
 sistants to "Look alive!" so that Tom imagined 
 that something might have happened between the 
 Nueces River and the Rio Grande; but he did not 
 stop to ask the journalist, for he desired to behold 
 the face of none of his friends until he had fought 
 out some things within himself. So he strode on 
 toward nowhere. 
 
 Day was breaking when Mr. Gray climbed the 
 stairs to his room. There were two flights, the 
 ascent of the first of which occupied about half 
 an hour of Crailey's invaluable time; and the second 
 might have taken more of it, or possibly consumed 
 the greater part of the morning, had he received 
 no assistance. But, as he reclined to meditate upon 
 the first landing, another man entered the hallway 
 from without, ascended quickly, and Crailey be- 
 came pleasantly conscious that two strong hands 
 had lifted him to his feet; and, presently, that he 
 was being borne aloft upon the new-comer's back. 
 
180 THE TWO VAXREVELS 
 
 It seemed quite a journey, yet the motion was 
 soothing, so he made no effort to open his eyes, un- 
 til he found himself gently deposited upon the couch 
 in his own chamber, when he smiled amiably, and, 
 looking up, discovered his partner standing over him. 
 
 Tom was very pale and there were deep, violet 
 scrawls beneath his eyes. For once in his life he 
 had come home later than Crailey. 
 
 "First time, you know," said Crailey, with dif- 
 ficulty. "You'll admit first time completely inca- 
 pable? Often needed guiding hand, but never- 
 quite before." 
 
 "Yes," said Tom, quietly, "it is the first time I 
 ever saw you quite finished." 
 
 "Think I must be growing old and constitution 
 refuses bear it. Disgraceful to be seen in condition, 
 yet celebration justified. H'rah for the news!" He 
 waved his hand wildly. "Old red, white, and blue! 
 American eagle now kindly proceed to scream ! Star- 
 spangled banner intends streaming to all the trade 
 winds! Sea to sea! Glorious victories on political 
 thieving exhibition no, expedition ! Everybody not 
 responsible for the trouble to go and get himself 
 patriotically killed!" 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS isi 
 
 "Water!" said the other, feebly. Tom brought 
 the pitcher, and Crailey, setting his hot lips to it, 
 drank long and deeply; then, with his friend's as- 
 sistance, he tied a heavily moistened towel round 
 his head. "All right very soon and sober again," 
 he muttered, and lay back upon the pillow with 
 eyes tightly closed in an intense effort to concen- 
 trate his will. When he opened them again, four 
 or five minutes later, they had marvellously cleared 
 and his look was self-contained and sane. 
 
 "Haven't you heard the news?" He spoke much 
 more easily now. "It came at midnight to the 
 Journal." 
 
 "No; I've been walking in the country." 
 
 "The Mexicans crossed the Rio Grande on the 
 twenty-sixth of last month, captured Captain 
 Thornton and murdered Colonel Crook. That 
 means war is certain." 
 
 "It has been certain for a long time," said Tom. 
 "Polk has forced it from the first." 
 
 "Then it's a devil of a pity he can't be the only 
 man to die!" 
 
 "Have they called for volunteers?" asked Tom : 
 going toward the door. 
 
 "No; but if the news is true, they will." 
 
182 THE TWO VANEEVELS 
 
 "Yes," said Tom; and as he reached the hall- 
 way he paused. ".Can I help you to undress?" 
 
 "Certainly not!" Crailey sat up, indignantly. 
 "Can't you see that I'm perfectly sober? It was 
 the merest temporary fit, and I've shaken it 
 off. Don't you see?" He got upon his feet, 
 staggered, but shook himself like a dog coming 
 out of the water, and came to the door with infirm 
 steps. 
 
 "You're going to bed, aren't you?" asked Tom. 
 "You'd much better." 
 . "No," answered Crailey. "Are you?" 
 
 "No. I'm going to work." 
 
 "You've been up all night, too, haven't you?" 
 Crailey put his hand on the other's shoulder. "Were 
 you hunting for me?" 
 
 "No; not last night." 
 
 Crailey lurched suddenly, and Tom caught him 
 about the waist to steady him. 
 
 "Sweethearting, tippling, vingt-et-un, or poker, 
 eh, Tom?" he shouted, thickly, with a wild laugh. 
 "Ha, ha, old smug-face, up to my bad tricks at 
 last!" But, recovering himself immediately, he 
 pushed the other off at arm's length, and slapped 
 himself smartly on the brow. "Never mind; all 
 
THE TWO VANBEVELS 183 
 
 right, all right only a bad wave, now and then. 
 A walk will make me more a man than ever." 
 
 "You'd much better go to bed, Crailey." 
 
 "I can't. I'm going to change my clothes and 
 go out." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Crailey did not answer, but at that moment the 
 Catholic church-bell, summoning the faithful to 
 mass, pealed loudly on the morning air; and the 
 steady glance of Tom Vanrevel rested upon the 
 reckless eyes of the man beside him as they listened 
 together to its insistent call. Tom said, gently, 
 almost timidly: 
 
 "You have engagement?" 
 
 This time the answer came briskly. "Yes; I 
 promised to take Fanchon to the cemetery before 
 breakfast, to place some flowers on the grave of 
 the little brother who died. This happens to be 
 his birthday." 
 
 It was Tom who averted his eyes, not Crailey. 
 
 "Then you'd best hurry," he said, hesitatingly; 
 "I mustn't keep you," and went downstairs to his 
 office with flushed cheeks, a hanging head, and an 
 expression which would have led a stranger to be- 
 lieve that he liad just been caught in a lie. 
 
184 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 He went to the Main Street window, and seated 
 himself upon the ledge, the only one in the room 
 not too dusty for occupation; for here, at this hour, 
 Tom had taken his place every morning since Eliza- 
 beth Carewe had come from the convent. The 
 window was a coign of vantage, commanding the 
 corner of Carewe and Main streets. Some distance 
 west of the corner, the Catholic church cast its long 
 shadow across Main Street, and, in order to enter 
 the church, a person who lived upon Carewe Street 
 must pass the corner, or else make a half-mile de- 
 tour and approach from the other direction which 
 the person never did. Tom had thought it out the 
 first night that the image of Miss Betty had kept 
 him awake and that was the first night Miss 
 Carewe spent in Rouen the St. Mary's girl would 
 be sure to go to mass every day, which was why 
 the window-ledge was dusted the next morning. 
 
 The glass doors of the little corner drug-store 
 caught the early sun of the hot May morning and 
 became like sheets of polished brass; a farmer's 
 wagon rattled down the dusty street; a group of 
 Irish waitresses from the hotel made the board- 
 walk rattle under their hurried steps as they went 
 toward the church, talking busily to one another; 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 185 
 
 and a blinking youth in his shirt-sleeves, who wore 
 the air of one newly, but not gladly, risen, began 
 to struggle mournfully with the shutters of Mad- 
 rillon's bank. A moment later, Tom heard Crailey 
 come down the stairs, sure of foot and humming 
 lightly to himself. The door of the office was 
 closed; Crailey did not look in, but presently ap- 
 peared, smiling, trim, immaculate, all in white linen, 
 on the opposite side of the street, and offered badi- 
 nage to the boy who toiled at the shutters. 
 
 The bell had almost ceased to ring when a lady, 
 dressed plainly in black, but graceful and tall, came 
 rapidly out of Carewe Street, turned at the corner 
 by the little drug-store, and went toward the church. 
 The boy was left staring, for Crailey's banter broke 
 off in the middle of a word. 
 
 He overtook her on the church steps, and they 
 went in together. 
 
 That afternoon Fanchon Bareaud told Tom how 
 beautiful her betrothed had been to her; he had 
 brought her a great bouquet of violets and lilies-of- 
 the-valley, and had taken her to the cemetery to 
 place them on the grave of her baby brother, whose 
 birthday it was. Tears came to Fanchon's eyes 
 as she spoke of her lover's goodness, and -of how 
 
186 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 wonderfully he had talked as they stood beside the 
 little grave. 
 
 "He was the only one who remembered that this 
 was poor tiny Jean's birthday!" she said, and 
 sobbed. "He came just after breakfast and asked 
 me to go out there with him." 
 
CHAPTER XH 
 
 THE ROOM IN THE CUPOLA 
 
 MR. CAREWE returned, one warm May 
 afternoon, by the six o'clock boat, which 
 was sometimes a day late and sometimes 
 a few hours early; the latter contingency arising, 
 as in the present instance, when the owner was 
 aboard. Nelson drove him from the wharf to the 
 bank, where he conferred briefly, in an undertone, 
 with Eugene Madrillon; after which Eugene sent 
 a note containing three words to Tappingham 
 Marsh. Marsh tore up the note, and sauntered 
 over to the club, where he found General Trumble 
 and Jefferson Bareaud amicably discussing a pitcher 
 of cherry bounce. 
 
 "He has come," said Tappingham, pleased to 
 find the pair the only occupants of the place. "He 
 saw Madrillon, and there's a session to-night." 
 
 "Praise the Lord!" exclaimed the stout General, 
 rising to his feet. "I'll see old Chenoweth at once. 
 
 My fingers have the itch." 
 
 187 
 
188 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "And mine, too," said Bareaud. "I'd begun to 
 think we'd never have a go with him again." 
 
 "You must see that Crailey conies. We want a 
 full table. Drag him, if you can't get him any other 
 way." 
 
 "He won't need urging," said Jefferson. 
 
 "But he cut us last time." 
 
 "He won't cut to-night. W 7 hat hour?" 
 
 "Nine," answered Tappingham. "It's to be a 
 full sitting, remember." 
 
 "Don't fear for us," laughed Trumble. 
 
 "Nor for Crailey," Jefferson added. "After so 
 long a vacation you couldn't keep him away if you 
 chained him to the court-house pillars; he'd tear 
 'em in two!" 
 
 "Here's to our better fortunes, then!" said the 
 old soldier, filling a glass for Tappingham; and, 
 "Here's to our better fortunes!" echoed the young 
 men, pouring off the gentle liquor heartily. Hav- 
 ing thus made libation to their particular god, the 
 trio separated. 
 
 But Jefferson did not encounter the alacrity of 
 acceptance he expected from Crailey, when he 
 found him, hah* an hour later, at the hotel bar. In- 
 deed, at first, Mr. Gray not only refused outright 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 189 
 
 to go, but seriously urged the same -course upon 
 Jefferson; moreover, his remonstrance was offered 
 in such evident good faith that Bareaud, in the act 
 of swallowing one of his large doses of quinine, 
 paused with only half the powder down his throat, 
 gazing, nonplussed, at his prospective brother-in-law. 
 
 "My immortal soul!" he gasped. "Is this Crailey 
 Gray? What's the trouble?" 
 
 "Nothing," replied Crailey, quietly. "Only don't 
 go, you've lost' enough." 
 
 "Well, you're a beautiful one!" Jefferson ex- 
 claimed, with an incredulous laugh. "You're a 
 master hand; you, to talk about losing enough!" 
 
 "I know, I know," Crailey began, shaking his 
 head, "but " 
 
 "You've promised Fanchon never to go again, 
 and you're afraid Miss Betty will see or hear us, and 
 tell her you were there." 
 
 "I don't know Miss Carewe." 
 
 "Then you needn't fear; besides, she'll be out 
 when we come, and asleep when we go. She will 
 never know we've been in the house." 
 
 "That has nothing to do with it," said Crailey, 
 impatiently; and he was the more earnest because 
 he remembered the dangerous geography of the 
 
190 THE TWO VANKEVELS 
 
 Carewe house, which made it impossible for anyone 
 to leave the cupola-room except by the long hall 
 which passed certain doors. "I will not go, and 
 what's more, I promised Fanchon I'd try to keep 
 you out of it hereafter." 
 
 "Lord, but we're virtuous!" laughed the incred- 
 ulous Jefferson. "I'll come for you at a quarter 
 to nine." 
 
 "I will not go, I tell you." 
 
 Jefferson roared. "Yes, you will. You couldn't 
 keep from it if you tried!" And he took himself 
 off, laughing violently, again promising to call for 
 Crailey on his way to the tryst, and leaving him 
 still warmly protesting that it would be a great folly 
 for either of them to go. 
 
 Crailey looked after the lad's long, thin figure 
 with an expression as near anger as he ever wore. 
 "He'll go," he said to himself. 
 
 "And ah, well I'll have to risk it! I'D go with 
 him, but only to try and bring him away early 
 that is, as early as it's safe to be sure that they are 
 asleep downstairs. And I won't play. No, I'll not 
 play; I'll not play." 
 
 He paid his score and went out of the hotel by a 
 side door. Some distance up the street, Bareaud 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 191 
 
 was still to be seen, lounging homeward in the 
 pleasant afternoon sunshine, he stopped on a cor- 
 ner and serenely poured another quinine powder 
 into himself and threw the paper to a couple of pigs 
 who looked up from the gutter maliciously. 
 
 "Confound him!" said Crailey, laughing rue- 
 fully. "He makes me a missionary for I'll keep 
 my word to Fanchon in that, at least! I'll look 
 after Jefferson to-night. Ah, I might as well be 
 old Tom Vanrevel, indeed!" 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Carewe had taken possession of 
 his own again. His daughter ran to the door to 
 meet him; she was trembling a little, and, blushing 
 and smiling, held out her hands to him, so that Mrs. 
 Tanberry vowed this was the loveliest creature in 
 the world, and the kindest. 
 
 Mr. Carewe bowed slightly, as to an acquaintance, 
 and disregarded the extended hands. 
 
 At that, the blush faded from Miss Betty's cheeks; 
 she trembled no more, and a salutation as icy as 
 her father's was returned to him. He bent his 
 heavy brows upon her, and shot a black glance her 
 way, being, of course, immediately enraged by her 
 reflection of his own manner, but he did not speak 
 to her. 
 
192 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Nor did he once address her during the evening 
 meal, preferring to honor Mrs. Tanberry with his 
 conversation, to that diplomatic lady's secret anger, 
 but outward amusement. She cheerfully neglected 
 to answer him at times, having not the slightest awe 
 of him, and turned to the girl instead; indeed, she 
 was only prevented from rating him soundly at his 
 own table by the fear that she might make the sit- 
 uation more difficult for her young charge. As 
 soon as it was possible, she made her escape with 
 Miss Betty, and they drove away in the twilight to 
 pay visits of duty, leaving Mr. Carewe frowning 
 at his coffee on the veranda. 
 
 When they came home, three hours later, Miss 
 Betty noticed that a fringe of illumination bor- 
 dered each of the heavily curtained windows in 
 the cupola, and she uttered an exclamation, for she 
 had never known that room to be lighted. 
 
 "Look!" she cried, touching Mrs. Tanberry 's 
 arm, as the horses trotted through the gates under 
 a drizzle of rain, "I thought the room in the cupola 
 was empty. It's always locked, and when I came 
 from St. Mary's he told me that old furniture was 
 stored there." 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry was grateful for the darkness. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 193 
 
 "He may have gone there to read," she answered, in 
 a queer voice. "Let us go quietly to bed, child, so 
 as not to disturb him." 
 
 Betty had as little desire to disturb her father 
 as she had to see him; therefore she obeyed her 
 friend's injunction, and went to her room on tip- 
 toe. The house was very silent as she lit the can- 
 dles on her bureau. Outside, the gentle drizzle 
 and the soothing tinkle from the eaves were the 
 only sounds; within, there was but the faint rustle 
 of garments from Mrs. Tanberry's room. Pres- 
 ently the latter ceased to be heard, and a wooden 
 moan of protest from the four-poster upon which 
 the good lady reposed, announced that she had 
 drawn the curtains and wooed the rulers of Nod. 
 
 Although it was one of those nights of which they 
 say, "It is a good night to sleep," Miss Betty was 
 not drowsy. She had half-unfastened one small 
 sandal, but she tied the ribbons again, and seated 
 herself by the open window. The ledge and case- 
 ment framed a dim oblong of thin light from the 
 candles behind her, a lonely lustre, which crossed 
 the veranda to melt shapelessly into darkness on 
 the soggy lawn. She felt a melancholy in the softly 
 falling rain and wet, black foliage that chimed with 
 
194 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 the sadness of her own spirit. The night suited her 
 very well, for her father's coming had brought a 
 weight of depression with it. Why could he not 
 have spoken one word to her, even a cross one? She 
 knew that he did not love her, yet, merely as a fel- 
 low-being, she was entitled to a measure of courtesy; 
 and the fact that she was his daughter could not ex- 
 cuse his failure to render it. Was she to continue 
 to live with him on their present terms? She had 
 no intention to make another effort to alter them; 
 but to remain as they were would be intolerable, 
 and Mrs. Tanberry could not stay forever, to act 
 as a buffer between her and her father. Peering 
 out into the dismal night, she found her own future 
 as black, and it seemed no wonder that the Sisters 
 loved the convent life; that the pale nuns forsook 
 the world wherein there was so much useless unkind- 
 ness; where women were petty and jealous, like that 
 cowardly Fanchon, and men who looked great were 
 tricksters, like Fanchon's betrothed. Miss Betty 
 clenched her delicate fingers. She would not re- 
 member that white, startled face again! 
 
 Another face helped her to shut out the recollec- 
 tion : that of the man who had come to mass to meet 
 her yesterday morning, and with whom she had 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 195 
 
 taken a long walk afterward. He had shown her a 
 quaint old English gardener who lived on the bank 
 of the river, had bought her a bouquet, and she had 
 helped him to select another to send to a sick friend. 
 How beautiful the flowers were, and how happy 
 he had made the morning for her, with his gayety, 
 his lightness, and his odd wisdom! Was it only 
 yesterday? Her father's coming had made yester- 
 day a fortnight old. 
 
 But the continuously pattering rain and the soft 
 drip-drop from the roof, though as mournful as she 
 chose to find them, began, afterwhile, to weave 
 their somnolent spells, and she slowly drifted from 
 reveries of unhappy sorts, into half -dreams, in which 
 she was still aware she was awake; yet slumber, 
 heavy-eyed, stirring from the curtains beside her 
 with the small night breeze, breathed strange dis- 
 tortions upon familiar things, and drowsy impos- 
 sibilities moved upon the surface of her thoughts. 
 Her chin, resting upon her hand, sank gently, until 
 her head almost lay upon her relaxed arms. 
 
 "That is mine, Crailey Gray!" 
 
 She sprang to her feet, immeasurably startled, 
 one hand clutching the back of her chair, the other 
 tremulously pressed to her cheek, convinced that 
 
196 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 her father had stooped over her and shouted the 
 sentence in her ear. For it was his voice, and the 
 house rang with the words; all the rooms, halls, and 
 even the walls, seemed still murmurous with the 
 sudden sound, like the tingling of a bell after 
 it has been struck. And yet everything was 
 quiet. 
 
 She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying 
 to untangle the maze of dreams which had evolved 
 this shock for her, the sudden clamor in her father's 
 voice of a name she hated and hoped never to hear 
 again, a name she was trying to forget. But as she 
 was unable to trace anything which had led to it, 
 there remained only the conclusion that her nerves 
 were not what they should be. The vapors having 
 become obsolete for young ladies as an explana- 
 tion for all unpleasant sensations, they were instruc- 
 ted to have "nerves." This was Miss Betty's first 
 consciousness of her own, and, desiring no greater 
 acquaintance with them, she told herself it was 
 unwholesome to fall asleep in a chair by an open 
 window when the night was as sad as she. 
 
 Turning to a chair in front of the small oval 
 mirror of her bureau, she unclasped the brooch which 
 held her lace collar, and, seating herself, began to 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 197 
 
 unfasten her hair. Suddenly she paused, her up- 
 lifted arms falling mechanically to her sides. 
 
 Someone was coming through the long hall with 
 a soft, almost inaudible step, a step which was not 
 her father's. She knew at once, with instinctive 
 certainty, that it was not he. Nor was it Nelson, 
 who would have shuffled; nor could it be the vain 
 Mamie, nor one of the other servants, for they did 
 not sleep in the house. It was a step more like a 
 woman's, though certainly it was not Mrs. Tan- 
 berry's. 
 
 Betty rose, took a candle, and stood silent for a 
 moment, the heavy tresses of her hair, half -unloosed, 
 falling upon her neck and left shoulder like the folds 
 of a dark drapery. 
 
 At the slight rustle of her rising, the steps ceased 
 instantly. Her heart set up a wild beating and 
 the candle shook in her hand. But she was brave 
 and young, and, following an irresistible impulse, 
 she ran across the room, flung open the door, and 
 threw the light of the candle into the hall, holding 
 it at arm's length before her. 
 
 She came almost face to face with Crailey Gray. 
 
 The blood went from his cheeks as a swallow 
 flies down from a roof; he started back against the 
 
198 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 opposite wall with a stifled groan, while she stared 
 at him blankly, and grew as deathly pale as he. 
 
 He was a man of great resource in all emergen- 
 cies which required a quick tongue, but for the 
 moment, this was beyond him. He felt himself lost, 
 toppling backward into an abyss, and the useleso- 
 ness of his destruction made him physically sick. 
 For he need not have been there; he had not wished 
 to come; he had well counted the danger to him- 
 self, and this one time in his life had gone to the 
 cupola-room out of good-nature. But Bareawl 
 had been obstinate and Crailey had come away 
 alone, hoping that Jefferson might follow. And 
 here he was, poor trapped rat, convicted and ruined 
 because of a good action! At last he knew con- 
 sistency to be a jewel, and that a greedy boy should 
 never give a crust; that a fool should stick to his 
 folly, a villain to his deviltry, and each hold his 
 own; for the man who thrusts a good deed into a 
 life of lies is wound about with perilous passes, and 
 in his devious ways a thousand unexpected damna- 
 tions spring. 
 
 Beaten, stunned, hang-jawed with despair, he 
 returned her long, dumfounded gaze hopelessly 
 and told the truth like an inspired dunce. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 199 
 
 "I came I came to bring another man away," 
 he whispered brokenly; and, at the very moment, 
 several heavy, half-suppressed voices broke into 
 eager talk overhead. 
 
 The white hand that held the candle wavered, 
 and the shadows glided in a huge, grotesque dance. 
 Twice she essayed to speak before she could do so, 
 at the same moment motioning him back, for he had 
 made a vague gesture toward her. 
 
 "I am not faint. Do you mean, away from up 
 there?" She pointed to the cupola-stairs. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Have have you seen my father?" 
 
 The question came out of such a depth of incred- 
 ulousness that it was more an articulation of the 
 lips than a sound, but he caught it; and, with it, 
 not hope, but the shadow of a shadow of hope, a 
 hand waving from the far shore to the swimmer 
 who has been down twice. Did she fear for his 
 sake? 
 
 "No I have not seen him." He was groping 
 blindly. 
 
 "You did not come from that room?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "How did you enter the house?" 
 
200 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 The draught through the hall was blowing upon 
 him; the double doors upon the veranda had been 
 left open for coolness. "There," he said, pointing 
 to them. 
 
 "But I heard you come from the other direc- 
 tion." 
 
 He was breathing quickly; he saw his chance if 
 Jefferson Bareaud did not come now. 
 
 "You did not hear me come down the stairs.*' He 
 leaned toward her, risking it all on that. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Ah!" A sigh too like a gasp burst from Crailey. 
 His head lifted a little, and his eyes were luminous 
 with an eagerness that was almost anguish. He set 
 his utmost will at work to collect himself and to 
 think hard and fast. 
 
 "I came here resolved to take a man away, come 
 what would!" he said. "I found the door open, 
 went to the foot of that stairway; then I stopped. 
 I remembered something; I turned, and was going 
 away when you opened the door." 
 
 "You remembered what?" 
 
 Her strained attitude did not relax, nor, to his 
 utmost scrutiny, was the complete astonishment of 
 her distended gaze altered one whit, but a hint of 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 201 
 
 her accustomed high color was again upon her 
 cheek and her lip trembled a little, like that of a 
 child about to weep. The flicker of hope in hig 
 breast increased prodigiously, and the rush of it 
 took the breath from his throat and choked him. 
 Good God! was she going to believe him? 
 
 "I remembered you!" 
 
 "What?" she said, wonderingly. 
 
 Art returned with a splendid bound, full-pinioned, 
 his beautiful and treacherous Familiar who had de- 
 serted him at the crucial instant; but she made up 
 for it now, folding him in protective wings and 
 breathing through his spirit. In rapid and vehement 
 whispers he poured out the words upon the girl in 
 the doorway. 
 
 "I have a friend, and I would lay down my life 
 to make him what he could be. He has always 
 thrown everything away, his life, his talents, all his 
 money and all of mine, for the sake of throwing 
 them away! Some other must tell you about that 
 room; but it has ruined my friend. To-night I dis- 
 covered that he had been summoned here, and I 
 made up my mind to come and take him away. 
 Your father has sworn to shoot me if I set foot in 
 his house or on ground of his. Well, my duty was 
 
202 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 clear and I came to do it. And yet I stopped at 
 the foot of the stair because because I remem- 
 bered that you were Robert Carewe's daughter. 
 What of you, if I went up and harm came to me 
 from your father? For I swear I would not have 
 touched him! You asked me not to speak of 'per- 
 sonal' things, and I have obeyed you; but you see 
 I must tell you one thing now: I have cared for 
 this friend of mine more than for all else under 
 heaven, but I turned and left him to his ruin, and 
 would a thousand times, rather than bring trouble 
 upon you! 'A thousand times?' Ah! I swear it 
 should be a thousand times a thousand!" 
 
 He had paraded in one speech from the prisoner's 
 dock to Capulet's garden, and her eyes were shin- 
 ing into his like a great light when he finished. 
 
 "Go quickly," she whispered. "Go quickly! Go 
 quickly!" 
 
 "But do you understand?" 
 
 "Not yet, but I shall. Will you go? They might 
 come my father might come at any moment." 
 
 "But " 
 
 "Do you want to drive me quite mad? Please 
 go!" She laid a trembling, urgent hand upon his 
 sleere. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 203 
 
 "Never, until you tell me that you understand," 
 replied Crailey firmly, listening keenly for the slight- 
 est sound overhead. "Never until then!" 
 
 "When I do I shall tell you; now I only know 
 that you must go." 
 
 "But tell me " 
 
 "You must go!" 
 
 There was a shuffling of chairs on the floor over- 
 head, and Crailey went. He went even more hastily 
 than might have been expected from the adaman- 
 tine attitude he had just previously assumed. Real- 
 izing this as he reached the wet path, he risked 
 stealing round to her window: 
 
 66 For your sake!" he breathed; and having thus 
 forestalled any trifling imperfection which might 
 arise in her recollection of his exit from the house, 
 he disappeared, kissing his hand to the rain as he 
 ran down the street. 
 
 Miss Betty locked her door and pulled close the 
 curtains of her window. A numerous but careful 
 sound of footsteps came from the hall, went by her 
 door and out across the veranda. Silently she 
 waited until she heard her father go alone to his 
 room. 
 
 She took the candle and went in to Mrs. Tan- 
 
04 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 berry. She set the light upon a table, pulled a 
 chair close to the bedside, and placed her cool hand 
 lightly on the great lady's forehead. 
 
 "Isn't it very late, child? Why are you not 
 asleep?" 
 
 "Mrs. Tanberry, I want to know why there was 
 a light in the cupola-room to-night?" 
 
 "What?" Mrs. Tanberry rolled herself as up- 
 right as possible, and sat with blinking eyes. 
 
 "I want to know what I am sure you know, and 
 what I am sure everybody knows, except me. What 
 were they doing there to-night, and what was the 
 quarrel between Mr. Vanrevel and my father that 
 had to do with Mr. Gray?" 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry gazed earnestly into the girl's face. 
 After a long time she said in a gentle voice: 
 
 "Child, has it come to matter that much? 
 
 "Yes," said Miss Betty. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE TOCSIN 
 
 TOM VANKEVEL always went to the post- 
 office soon after the morning distribution 
 of the mail; that is to say, about ten 
 o'clock, and returned with the letters for the firm 
 of Gray and Vanrevel, both personal and official. 
 Crailey and he shared everything, even a box at 
 the post-office; and in front of this box, one morn- 
 ing, after a night of rain, Tom stood staring at a 
 white envelope bearing a small, black seal. The 
 address was in a writing he had never seen before, 
 but the instant it fell under his eye he was struck 
 with a distinctly pleasurable excitement. 
 
 Whether through some spiritual exhalation of the 
 writer fragrant on any missive, or because of a 
 hundred microscopic impressions, there are analysts 
 who are able to select, from a pile of letters written 
 by women (for the writing of women exhibits certain 
 phenomena more determinably than that of men) 
 
 those of the prettiest or otherwise most attractive. 
 
 205 
 
206 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 And out upon the lover who does not recognize his 
 mistress's hand at the first glimpse ever he has of 
 it, without post-mark or other information to aid 
 him! Thus Vanrevel, worn, hollow-eyed, and sallow, 
 in the Rouen post-office, held the one letter separate 
 from a dozen (the latter not, indeed, from women), 
 and stared at it until a little color came back to his 
 dark skin and a great deal of brightness to his eye. 
 He was no analyst of handwritings, yet it came to 
 him instantly that this note was from a pretty 
 woman. To see that it was from a woman was 
 simple, but that he knew and he did know that 
 she was pretty, savors of the occult. More than 
 this: there was something about it that thrilled him. 
 Suddenly, and without reason, he knew that it came 
 from Elizabeth Carewe. 
 
 He walked back quickly to his office with the letter 
 in the left pocket of his coat, threw the bundle of 
 general correspondence upon his desk, went up to 
 the floor above, and paused at his own door to listen. 
 Deep breathing from across the hall indicated that 
 Mr. Gray's soul was still encased in slumber, and 
 great was its need, as Tom had found his partner, 
 that morning at five, stretched upon the horse-hair 
 sofa in the office, lamenting the emptiness of a bottle 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 207 
 
 which had been filled with fiery Bourbon in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Vanrevel went to his own room, locked the door, 
 and took the letter from his pocket. He held it 
 between his fingers carefully, as though it were alive 
 and very fragile, and he looked at it a long time, 
 holding it first in one hand, then in the other, before 
 he opened it. At last, however, after examining all 
 the blades of his pocketknife, he selected one brighter 
 than the others, and loosened the flap of the envelope 
 as gently and carefully as if it had been the petal 
 of a rose-bud that he was opening. 
 
 "DEAB ME. VANREVEL: 
 
 "I believed you last night, though I did not understand. But I 
 understand, now everything and, bitter to me as the truth is, 
 I must show you plainly that I know all of it, nor can I rest until I 
 do show you. I want you to answer this letter though I must 
 not see you again for a long time and in your answer you must 
 set me right if I am anywhere mistaken in what I have learned. 
 
 "At first, and until after the second time we met, I did not be- 
 lieve in your heart, though I did in your mind and humor. Even 
 since then, there have come strange, small, inexplicable mistrust- 
 ings of you, but now I throw them all away and trust you wholly, 
 Monsieur Citizen Georges Meilhac! I shall always think of you 
 in those impossible garnishments of my poor great-uncle, and I 
 persuade myself that he must have been a little like you. 
 
 "I trust you because I have heard the story of your profound 
 goodness. The first reason for my father's dislike was your belief 
 
208 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 in freedom as the right of all men. Ah, it is not your pretty exag- 
 gerations and flatteries (I laugh at them!) that speak for you, but 
 your career, itself, and the brave things you have done. My father's 
 dislike flared into hatred because you worsted him when he dis- 
 covered that he could not successfully defend the wrong against 
 you and fell back upon sheer insult. 
 
 "He is a man whom I do not know strange as that seems as I 
 write it. It is only to you, who have taught me so much, that 
 I could write. I have tried to know him and to realize that I am 
 his daughter, but we are the coldest acquaintances, that is all; and 
 I cannot see how a change could come. I do not understand him; 
 least of all do I understand why he is a gambler. It has been ex- 
 plained to me that it is his great passion, but all I comprehend in 
 these words is that they are full of shame for his daughter. 
 
 "This is what was told me: he has always played heavily and 
 skilfully adding much to his estate in that way and in Rouen 
 always with a certain coterie, which was joined, several years ago, 
 by the man you came to save last night. 
 
 "Your devotion to Mr. Gray has been the most beautiful thing 
 in your life. I know all that the town knows of that, except the 
 thousand hidden sacrifices you have made for him, those things 
 which no one will ever know. (And yet, you see, 7 know them 
 after all!) For your sake, because you love him, I will not even 
 call him unworthy. 
 
 "I have heard from one who told unwillingly the story of the 
 night two years ago, when the play ran so terribly high; and how, 
 in the morning when they went away, all were poorer except one, 
 their host! how Mr. Gray had nothing left in the world, and owed 
 my father a great sum which was to be paid in twenty-four hours; 
 how they took everything you had saved in the years of hard work 
 at your profession, and borrowed the rest on your word, and brought 
 it to my father that afternoon; how, when you had paid your friend's 
 debt, you asked my father not to play with Mr. Gray again; and my 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 209 
 
 father made that his excuse to send you a challenge. You laughed 
 ab the challenge and you could afford to laugh at it. 
 
 "But this is all shame, shame for Robert Carewe's daughter. It 
 seems to me that I should hide and not lift my head; that I, being 
 of my father's blood, could never look you in the face again. It 
 is so unspeakably painful and ugly. I think of my father's stiff 
 pride and his look of the eagle, and he still plays with your friend, 
 almost always 'successfully!' And your friend still comes to play! 
 but I will not speak of that side of it. 
 
 "Mr. Gray has made you poor, but I know it was not that which 
 made you come seeking him last night, when I found you there in 
 the hall. It was for his sake you came and you went away for 
 mine. Now that I know, at last now that I have heard what 
 your life has been (and oh I heard so much more than I have writ- 
 ten!) now that my eyes have been opened to see you as you are, 
 I am proud, and glad and humble that I can believe that you felt 
 a friendship for me strong enough to have made you go *for my 
 sake.' You will write to me just once, won't you? and tell me if 
 there was any error in what I listened to; but you must not 
 come to the garden. Now that I know you, I cannot meet you 
 clandestinely again. It would hurt the dignity which I feel in you 
 now, and my own poor dignity such as it is! I have been earnestly 
 warned of the danger to you. Besides, you must let me test my- 
 self. I am all fluttering and frightened and excited. You will obey 
 me, won't you? do not come until I send for you. 
 
 ELIZABETH CABEWE." 
 
 Mr. Gray, occupied with his toilet about noon, 
 heard his partner descending to the office with a 
 heavy step, and issued from his room to call a 
 hearty greeting. Tom looked back over his shoulder 
 and replied cheerily, though with a certain embar- 
 
210 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 rassment; but Crailey, catching sight of his face, 
 uttered a sharp ejaculation and came down to him. 
 
 "Why, what's the matter, Tom? You're not 
 going to be sick? You look like the devil and all!" 
 
 "I'm all right, never fear!" Tom laughed, evading 
 the other's eye. "I'm going out in the country on 
 some business, and I dare say I shall not be back 
 for a couple of days; it will be all up and down the 
 country." He set down a travelling-bag he was 
 carrying, and offered the other his hand. "Good-by." 
 
 "Can't I go for you? You don't look able " 
 
 "No, no. It's something I'll have to attend to 
 myself." 
 
 "Ah, I suppose," said Crailey, gently, "I suppose 
 it's important, and you couldn't trust me to handle 
 it. Well God knows you're right! I've shown you 
 often enough how incompetent I am to do anything 
 but write jingles !" 
 
 "You do some more of them without the whiskey, 
 Crailey. They're worth more than all the lawing 
 Gray and Vanrevel have ever done or ever will do. 
 Good-by and be kind to yourself." 
 
 He descended to the first landing, and then, 
 "Oh, Crailey," he called, with the air of having 
 forgotten something he had meant to say. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 211 
 
 "Yes, Tom?" 
 
 "This morning at the post-office I found a letter 
 addressed to me. I opened it and " He hesitated, 
 and uneasily shifted his weight from one foot to the 
 other, with a feeble, deprecatory laugh. 
 
 "Yes, what of it?" 
 
 "Well there seemed to be a mistake. I think 
 it must have been meant for you. Somehow, she 
 she's picked up a good many wrong impressions, 
 and, Lord knows how, but she's mixed our names 
 up and and I've left the letter for you. It's on 
 my table." 
 
 He turned and calling a final good-by over his 
 shoulder, went clattering noisily down to the street 
 and vanished from Crailey's sight. 
 
 Noon found Tom far out on the National Road, 
 creaking along over the yellow dust in a light wagon, 
 between bordering forests that smelt spicily of wet 
 underbrush and May-apples; and, here and there, 
 when they would emerge from the woods to cleared 
 fields, liberally outlined by long snake-fences of 
 black walnut, the steady, jog-trotting old horse 
 lifted his head and looked interested in the world, 
 but Tom never did either. Habitually upright, 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 walking or sitting, straight, keen, and alert, that 
 day's sun saw him drearily hunched over, mile after 
 mile, his forehead laced with lines of pain. He 
 stopped at every farm-house and cabin, and, where 
 the young men worked in the fields, hailed them 
 from the road, or hitched his horse to the fence 
 and crossed the soft furrows to talk with them. At 
 such times he stood erect again, and spoke stirringly, 
 finding eager listeners. There was one question they 
 asked him over and over: 
 
 "But are you sure the call will come?" 
 "As sure as that we stand here; and it will come 
 before the week is out. We must be ready!" 
 
 Often, when he left them, they would turn from 
 the work in hand, leaving it as it was, to lie unfinished 
 in the fields, and make their way slowly and thought- 
 fully to then* homes, while Tom climbed into his 
 creaking little wagon once more, only to fall into the 
 same dull, hunched-over attitude. He had many 
 things to think out before he faced Rouen and Crailey 
 Gray again, and more to fight through to the end 
 with himself. Three days he took for it, three days 
 driving through the soft May weather behind the 
 kind, old jog-trotting horse; three days on the road 
 from farm-house to farm-house and from field to 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 213 
 
 field, from cabin of the woods to cabin in the clearing. 
 Tossing unhappily at night, he lay sleepless till 
 dawn, though not because of the hard beds; and 
 when daylight came, journeyed steadily on again, 
 over the vagabond little hills that had gypsied it 
 so far into the prairie-land in their wanderings from 
 their range on the Ohio, and, passing the hills, went 
 on through the flat forest-land, always hunched over 
 dismally in the creaking wagon. 
 
 But on the evening of the third day he drove 
 into town, with the stoop out of his shoulders and 
 the lustre back in his eyes. He was haggard, gray, 
 dusty, but he had solved his puzzle, and one thing 
 was clear in his mind as the thing that he would do. 
 He patted the old horse a hearty farewell as he left 
 him with the liveryman from whom he had hired 
 him, and strode up Main Street with the air of a 
 man who is going somewhere. It was late, but there 
 were more lights than usual in the windows and 
 more people on the streets. Boys ran shouting, 
 while, here and there, knots of men argued loudly 
 and in front of the little corner drug-store a noisily 
 talkative, widely gesticulative crowd of fifty or more 
 had gathered. An old man, a cobbler, who had left 
 a leg at Tippecanoe and replaced it with a wooden 
 
214 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 one, chastely decorated with designs of his own carv- 
 ing, came stumping excitedly down the middle of 
 the street, where he walked for fear of the cracks 
 in the wooden pavement, which were dangerous to 
 his art-leg when he came from the Rouen House 
 bar, as on the present occasion. He hailed Tom 
 by name. 
 
 "You're the lad, Tom Vanrevel," he shouted. 
 "You're the man to lead the boys out for the glory 
 of the State! You git the whole blame Fire Depart- 
 ment out and enlist 'em before morning! Take 'em 
 down to the Rio Grande, you hear me? And you 
 needn't be afraid of their puttin' it out, if it ketches 
 afire, neither!" 
 
 Tom waved his hand and passed on; but at the 
 open doors of the Catholic Church he stopped and 
 looked up and down the street, and then, unnoticed, 
 entered to the dim interior, where the few candles 
 showed only a bent old woman in black kneeling at 
 the altar. Tom knew where Elizabeth Carewe knelt 
 each morning; he stepped softly through the shadowy 
 silence to her place, knelt, and rested his head upon 
 the rail of the bench before him. 
 
 The figure at the altar raised itself after a time, 
 and the old woman limped slowly up a side aisle. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 215 
 
 mumbling her formulas, courtesying to the painted 
 saints, on her way out. The very thinnest linger- 
 ings of incense hung on the air, seeming to Tom 
 like the faint odor that might exhale from a heavy 
 wreath of marguerites, worn in dark-brown hair. 
 Yet, the place held nothing but peace and good-will 
 And he found nothing else in his own heart. 
 
 The street was quiet when he emerged from that 
 lorn vigil; the corner groups had dissolved; shouting 
 youths no longer patrolled the sidewalks. Only 
 
 * 
 
 one quarter showed signs of life: the little club- 
 house, where the windows still shown brightly, and 
 whence came the sound of many voices settling the 
 destinies of the United States of America. Thither 
 Tom bent his steps, thoughtfully, and with a quiet 
 mind. There was a small veranda at the side of 
 the house; here he stood unobserved to look in 
 upon his noisy and agitated friends. 
 
 They were all there, from the old General and 
 Mr. Bareaud, to the latter's son, Jefferson, and 
 young Frank Chenoweth. They were gathered 
 about a big table upon which stood a punch-bowl, 
 and Trumble, his brow as angry red as the liquor 
 in the cup he held, was proposing a health to the 
 President in a voice of fury. 
 
216 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "In spite of all the Crailey Grays and traitors 
 this side of hell!" he finished politely. 
 
 Crailey emerged instantaneously from the general 
 throng and mounted a chair, tossing his light hair 
 back from his forehead, his eyes sparkling and 
 happy. "You find your own friends already occu- 
 pying the place you mentioned, do you, General?" 
 he asked. 
 
 General Trumble stamped and shook his fist. 
 "You're a spawn of Aaron Burr!" he vociferated. 
 "There's not a man here to stand by your infernal 
 doctrines. You sneer at your own State, you sneer 
 at your own country, you defile the sacred ground! 
 What are you, by the Almighty, who attack your 
 native land in this, her hour of peril!" 
 
 'Teril to my native land!" laughed Crailey. 
 "From Santa Anna?" 
 
 "The General's right, sir," exclaimed the elder 
 Chenoweth indignantly, and most of the listeners 
 appeared to agree with him. "It's a poor time to 
 abuse the President when he's called for volunteers 
 and OUT country is in danger, sir!" 
 
 "WTio is in danger?" answered Crailey, lifting 
 his hand to still the clamor of approbation that 
 arose. "Is Polk in danger? Or Congress? But 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 217 
 
 that would be too much to hope! Do you expect 
 to see the Greasers in Washington? No, you idiots, 
 you don't! Yet there'll be plenty of men to suffer 
 and die; and the first should be those who thrust 
 this war on us and poor little Mexico; but it won't 
 be they; the men who'll do the fighting and dying 
 will be the country boys and the like of us from the 
 towns, while Mr. Polk sits planning at the White 
 House how he can get elected again. I wish Tom 
 were here, confound you ! You listen to him because 
 he always has the facts and I'm just an embroiderer, 
 you think. What's become of the gaudy campaign 
 cry you were all wearing your lungs out with a few 
 months ago? Tifty-four-forty or fight!' Bah! 
 Polk twisted the lion's tail with that until after 
 election. Then he saw he had to make you forget 
 it, or fight England and be ruined, so he forces war 
 on Mexico, and the- country does forget it. That's 
 it: he asks three regiments of volunteers from this 
 State to die of fevers and get shot, so that he can 
 steal another country and make his own elect him 
 again. And you ask me to drink the health of the 
 politician who sits at home and sends his fellow- 
 men to die to fix his rotten jobs for him?" Crailey 
 had persuaded himself into such earnestness, that 
 
218 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 the depth of his own feeling almost choked him, 
 but he finished roundly in his beautiful, strong 
 voice: "I'll drink for the good punch's sake but 
 that health? I'll see General Trumble in heaven 
 before I'll drink it!" 
 
 There rose at once a roar of anger and disap- 
 proval, and Crailey became a mere storm centre 
 amid the upraised hands gesticulating madly at him 
 as he stood, smiling again, upon his chair. 
 
 "This comes of living with Tom Vanrevel!" 
 shouted the General furiously. "This is his damned 
 Abolition teaching! You're only his echo; you 
 spend half your life playing at being Vanrevel!" 
 
 "Where is Vanrevel?" said Tappingham Marsh. 
 
 "Ay, where is he!" raged Trumble, hammering 
 the table till the glasses rang. "Let him come and 
 answer for his own teaching; it's wasted time to talk 
 to this one; he's only the pupil. Where is the traitor?" 
 
 "Here," answered a voice from the doorway; and 
 though the word was spoken quietly it was never- 
 theless, at that juncture, silencing. Everyone turned 
 toward the door as Vanrevel entered. But the 
 apoplectic General, whom Crailey 's speech had 
 stirred to a fury beyond control, almost leaped at 
 Tom's throat. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 219 
 
 "Here's the tea-sipping old Granny," he bellowed 
 hoarsely. (He was ordinarily very fond of Tom.) 
 "Here's the master! Here's the man whose example 
 teaches Crailey Gray to throw mud at the flag. 
 He'll stay here at home with Crailey, of course, and 
 throw more, while the other boys march out to 
 die under it." 
 
 "On the contrary, General," answered Tom, 
 raising his voice, "I think you'll find Crailey Gray 
 the first to enlist, and as for myself, I've raised 
 sixty men in the country, and I want forty more 
 from Rouen, in order to offer the Governor a full 
 company. So it's come to 'the King, not the man'; 
 Polk is a pitiful trickster, but the country needs 
 her sons; that's enough for us to know; and while 
 I won't drink to James Polk" he plunged a cup 
 in the bowl and drew it out brimming "I'll empty 
 this to the President!" 
 
 It was then that from fifty throats the long, wild 
 shout went up that stirred Rouen, and woke the 
 people from their midnight beds for half a mile 
 around. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE FIRM OF GRAY AND VANREVEL, 
 
 FOR the first time it was Crailey who sat 
 waiting for Tom to come home. In a chair 
 drawn to his partner's desk in the dusty 
 office, he half-reclined, arms on the desk, his chin 
 on his clenched fists. To redeem the gloom he had 
 lit a single candle, which painted him dimly against 
 the complete darkness of his own shadow, like a 
 very old portrait whose background time has solidi- 
 fied into shapeless browns; the portrait of a fair- 
 haired gentleman, the cavalier, or the Marquis, one 
 might have said at first glance; not describing it 
 immediately as that of a poet, for there was no 
 mark of art upon Crailey, not even in his hair, for 
 they all wore it rather long then. Yet there was 
 a mark upon him, never more vivid than as he 
 sat waiting in the loneliness of that night for Tom 
 Vanrevel; though what the mark was and what 
 its significance might have been puzzling to define. 
 Perhaps, after all, Fanchon Bareaud had described 
 
 it best when she told Crailey one day, with a sudden 
 
 220 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 hint of apprehensive tears, that he had a "look of 
 fate." 
 
 Tom took his own time in coming ; he had stayed 
 at the club to go over his lists so he had told 
 Crailey with the General and old Bareaud. His 
 company was almost complete, and Crailey had 
 been the first to volunteer, to the dumfounding of 
 Trumble, who had proceeded to drink his health 
 again and again. But the lists could not detain 
 Tom two hours, Crailey knew, and it was two hours 
 since the new volunteers had sung "The Star Span- 
 gled Banner" over the last of the punch, and had 
 left the club to Tom and the two old men. Only 
 once or twice in that time had Crailey shifted his 
 position, or altered the direction of his set gaze at 
 nothing. But at last he rose, went to the window 
 and, leaning far out, looked down the street toward 
 the little club-house. Its lights were extinguished 
 and all was dark up and down the street. Abruptly 
 Crailey went back to the desk and blew out the 
 candle, after which he sat down again in the same 
 position. Twenty minutes later he heard Tom's 
 step on the stair, coming up very softly. Crailey 
 waited in silence until his partner reached the land- 
 ing, then relit the candle. 
 
222 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Tom," he called. "Come in, please, I've been 
 waiting for you." 
 
 There was a pause before Tom answered from 
 the hall: 
 
 "I'm very tired, Crailey. I think I'll go up to bed." 
 
 "No," said Crailey, "come in." 
 
 The door was already open, but Tom turned 
 toward it reluctantly. He stopped at the threshold 
 and the two looked at each other. 
 
 "I thought you wouldn't come as long as you 
 Relieved I was up," said Crailey, "so I blew out the 
 light. I'm sorry I kept you outside so long." 
 
 "Crailey, I'm going away to-morrow," the other 
 began. "I am to go over and see the Governor and 
 
 offer him this company, and to-night I need sleep, 
 * 
 
 "No," interrupted Crailey quietly, "I want to 
 know what you're going to do." 
 
 "To do about what?" 
 
 "About me." 
 
 "Oh!" Tom's eyes fell at once from his friend's face 
 and rested upon the floor. Slowly he walked to the 
 desk and stood in embarrassed contemplation of the 
 littered books and papers, while the other waited. 
 
 "I think it's best for you to tell me," said Crailey. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 223 
 
 "You think so?" Tom's embarrassment increased 
 visibly, and there was mingled with it an odd 
 appearance of apprehension, probably to relieve 
 which he very deliberately took two long cheroots 
 from his pocket, laid one on the desk for Crailey 
 and lit the other himself, with extreme carefulness, 
 at the candle. After this ceremonial he dragged a 
 chair to the window, tilted back in it with his feet 
 on the low sill, his back to the thin light and his 
 friend, and said in a slow, gentle tone: 
 
 "Well, Crailey?" 
 
 "I suppose you mean that I ought to offer my 
 explanation first," said the other, still standing. 
 "Well, there isn't any." He did not speak doggedly 
 or sullenly, as one in fault, but more with the air 
 of a man curiously ready to throw all possible light 
 upon a cloudy phenomenon. "It's very simple 
 all that I know about it. I went there first on the 
 evening of the Madrillon masquerade and played 
 a little comedy for her, so that some of my theat- 
 rical allusions they weren't very illuminating! 
 to my engagement to Fanchon, made her believe 
 I was Vanrevel when her father told her about 
 the pair of us. I discovered that the night his 
 warehouses burned and I saw something more, 
 
224 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 because I can't help seeing such things: that yours 
 was just the character to appeal to a young girl 
 fresh from the convent and full of honesty and 
 fine dreams and fire. Nobody could arrange a more 
 fatal fascination for a girl of nineteen than to have 
 a deadly quarrel with her father. And that's espe- 
 cially true when the father's like that made brute 
 of a Bob Care we! Then, too, you're more or less 
 the town model of virtue and popular hero, in spite 
 of the Abolitionism, just as I am the town scamp. 
 So I let it go on, and played a little at being you, 
 saying the things that you only think that was 
 all. It isn't strange that it's lasted until now, not 
 more than three weeks, after all. She's enly seen 
 you four or five times, and me not much oftener. 
 No one speaks of you to her, and I've kept out of 
 sight when others were about. Mrs. Tanberry is 
 her only close friend, and, naturally, wouldn't be 
 apt to mention that you are dark and I am fair, or 
 to describe us personally, any more than you and I 
 would mention the general appearance of people we 
 both meet about town. But you needn't tell me 
 that it can't last much longer. Some petty, unex- 
 pected trifle will turn up, of course. All that I 
 want to know is what you mean to do." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "To do?" repeated Tom softly, and blew a long 
 scarf of smoke out of the window. 
 
 "Ah!" Crailey's voice grew sharp and loud. 
 "There are many things you needn't tell me! You 
 need not tell me what I've done to you nor what 
 you think of me! You need not tell me that you 
 have others to consider; that you have Miss Care we 
 to think of. Don't you suppose I know that? And 
 you need not tell me that you have a duty to 
 Fanchon " 
 
 "Yes," Tom broke in, his tone not quite steady. 
 "Yes, I've thought of that." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Have you did you " he hesitated, but Crailey 
 understood immediately. 
 
 "No; I haven't seen her again." 
 
 "But you " 
 
 "Yes I wrote. I answered the letter." 
 
 "As " 
 
 "Yes; I signed your name. I told you that I 
 had just let things go on," Crailey answered, with 
 an impatient movement of his hands. "What are 
 you going to do?" 
 
 "I'm going over to see the Governor in the morn- 
 ing. I'll be away two or three days, I imagine." 
 
226 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Vanrevel!" exclaimed Crailey hotly, "will you 
 give me an answer and not beat about the bush any 
 longer? Or do you mean that you refuse to answer?" 
 
 Tom dropped his cigar upon the brick window- 
 ledge with an abysmal sigh. "Oh, no, it isn't 
 that," he answered mildly. "I've been thinking it 
 all over for three days in the country, and when I 
 got back to-night I found that I had come to a 
 decision without knowing it, and that I had come 
 to it even before I started; my leaving the letter for 
 you proved it. It's a little like this Mexican war, a 
 mixed-up problem and only one thing clear. A few 
 schemers have led the country into it to increase 
 the slave-power and make us forget that we threat- 
 ened England when we couldn't carry out the 
 threat. And yet, if you look at it broadly, these 
 are the smaller things and they do not last. The 
 means by which the country grows may be wrong 
 but its growth is right; it is only destiny, working 
 out through lies and blood, but the end will be 
 good. It is bound to happen and you can't stop 
 it. I believe the men who make this war for their 
 own uses will suffer in hell-fire for it; but it is made, 
 and there's only one thing I can see as the thing for 
 me to do. They've called me every name on earth 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 and the same with you, too, Crailey because 
 I'm an Abolitionist, but now, whether the country 
 has sinned or not, a good many thousand men have 
 got to do the bleeding for her, and I want to be one 
 of them. That's the one thing that is plain to me." 
 
 "Yes," returned Crailey. "You know I'm with 
 you; and I think you're always right. Yes; we'll 
 all be on the way in a fortnight or so. Do you 
 mean you won't quarrel with me because of that? 
 Do you mean it would be a poor time now, when 
 we're all going out to take our chances together?" 
 
 "Quarrel with you!" Tom rose and came to the 
 desk, looking across it at his friend. "Did you 
 think I might do that?" 
 
 "Yes I thought so." 
 
 "Crailey!" And now Tom's expression showed 
 desperation; it was that of a man whose apprehen- 
 sions have culminated and who is forced to face a 
 crisis long expected, long averted, but imminent 
 at last. His eyes fell from Crailey 's clear gaze and 
 his hand fidgeted among the papers on the desk. 
 
 "No," he began with a painful lameness and hes- 
 itation. "I did not mean it no; I meant, that, in 
 the same way, only one thing in this other this 
 other affair that seems so confused and is such a 
 
228 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 problem only one thing has grown clear. It 
 doesn't seem to me that that ' here he drew a 
 deep breath, before he went on with increasing 
 nervousness "that if you like a man and have 
 lived with him a good many years; that is to say, 
 if you're really much of a friend to him, I don't 
 believe you sit on a high seat and judge him. Judg- 
 ing, and all that, haven't much part in it. And it 
 seems to me that you've got yourself into a pretty 
 bad mix-up, Crailey." 
 
 "Yes," said Crailey. "It's pretty bad." 
 
 "Well," Tom looked up now, with aa almost 
 tremulous smile, "I believe that is about all I can 
 make of it. Do you think it's the part of your 
 best friend to expose you? It seems to me that if 
 there ever was a time when I ought to stand by 
 you, it's now." 
 
 There was a silence while they looked at each 
 other across the desk in the faint light. Tom's eyes 
 fell again as Crailey opened his lips. 
 
 "And in spite of everything," Crailey said breath- 
 lessly, "you mean that you won't tell?" 
 
 "How could I, Crailey?" said Tom Vanrevel as 
 he turned away. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WHEN JUNE CAME 
 
 "Methought I met a Damsel Fair 
 
 And tears were in her eyes; 
 Her head and arms were bare, 
 I heard her bursting sighs. 
 
 "7 stopped and looked her in the face, 
 
 'Twas then she sweetly smiled. 
 Her features shone with mournful grace, 
 Far more than Nature's child. 
 
 "With diffident and downcast eye, 
 
 In modest tones she spoke; 
 She wiped a tear and gave a sigh, 
 And then her silence broke " 
 
 SO sang Mrs. Tanberry at the piano, relieving 
 the melancholy which possessed her; but 
 Nelson, pausing in the hall to listen, and 
 exceedingly curious concerning the promised utter- 
 ance of the Damsel Fair, was to suffer disappoint- 
 ment, as the ballad was broken off abruptly and 
 the songstress closed the piano with a monstrous 
 clatter. Little doubt may be entertained that the 
 noise was designed to disturb Mr. Carewe, who sat 
 
 upon the veranda consulting a brown Principe, and 
 
 229 
 
230 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 less that the intended insult was accomplished. 
 For an expression of a vindictive nature was pre- 
 cipitated in that quarter so simultaneously that the 
 bang of the piano-lid and the curse were even as 
 the report of a musket and the immediate cry of 
 the wounded. 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry at once debouched upon the piazza, 
 showing a vast, clouded countenance. "And I hope 
 to heaven you already had a headache!" she 
 exclaimed. 
 
 "The courtesy of your wish, madam," Carewe 
 replied, with an angry flash of his eye, "is only 
 equalled by the kindness of heaven in answering it. 
 I have, in fact, a headache. I always have, nowa- 
 days." 
 
 "That's good news," returned the lady heartily. 
 
 "I thank you," retorted her host. 
 
 "Perhaps if you treated your daughter with even 
 a decent Indian's kind of politeness, you'd enjoy 
 better health." 
 
 "Ah! And in what failure to perform my duty 
 toward her have I incurred your displeasure?" 
 
 "Where is she now?" exclaimed the other excitably. 
 
 i 
 
 "Where is she now?" 
 "I cannot say." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 231 
 
 "Yes, you can, Robert Carewe!" Mrs. Tan- 
 berry retorted, with a wrathful gesture. "You 
 know well enough she's in her own room, and so 
 do I for I tried to get in to comfort her when 
 I heard her crying. She's in there with the door 
 bolted, where you drove her!" 
 
 "I drove her!" he sneered. 
 
 "Yes, you did, and I heard you. Do you think 
 I couldn't hear you raging and storming at her like 
 a crazy man? When you get in a temper do you 
 dream there's a soul in the neighborhood who 
 doesn't know it? You're a fool if you do, because 
 they could have heard you swearing down on Main 
 Street, if they'd listened. What are you trying to 
 do to her? break her spirit? or what? Because 
 you'll do it, or kill her. I never heard anybody 
 cry so heart-brokenly." Here the good woman's 
 own eyes filled. "What's the use of pretending?" 
 she went on sorrowfully. "You haven't spoken to 
 her kindly since you came home. Do you suppose 
 I'm blind to that? You weren't a bad husband to 
 the poor child's mother; why can't you be a good 
 father to her?" 
 
 "Perhaps you might begin by asking her to be a 
 good daughter to me." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "What has she done?" 
 
 "The night before I went away she ran to a fire 
 and behaved there like a common street hoyden. 
 The ladies of the Carewe family have not formerly 
 acquired a notoriety of that kind." 
 
 "Bah!" said Mrs. Tanberry. 
 
 "The next morning, when I taxed her with it, 
 she dutifully defied and insulted me." 
 
 "I can imagine the delicacy with which you 
 'taxed' her. What has that to do with your devilish 
 tantrums of this afternoon, Robert Carewe?" 
 
 "I am obliged to you for the expression," he 
 returned. "When I came home, this afternoon, I 
 found her reading that thing." He pointed to 
 many very small fragments of Mr. Cummings's 
 newspaper, which were scattered about the lawn 
 near the veranda. "She was out here, reading an 
 article which I had read down-town and which 
 appeared in a special edition of that rotten sheet, 
 sent out two hours ago." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Do you know what that article was, madam, 
 do you know what it was?" Although breathing 
 heavily, Mr. Carewe had compelled himself to a 
 certain outward calmness, but now, in the uncon- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 233 
 
 trollable agitation of his anger, he sprang to his 
 feet and struck one of the wooden pillars of the 
 porch a shocking blow with the bare knuckles of 
 his clenched hand. "Do you know what it was? 
 It was a eulogy of that damned Vanrevel! It pre- 
 tended to be an account of the enrollment of his 
 infernal company, but it was nothing more than a 
 glorification of that nigger-loving hound! His com- 
 pany a lot of sneaks, who'll run like sheep from 
 the first Greaser elected him captain yesterday, 
 and to-day he received an appointment as major! 
 It dries the blood in my veins to think of it! that 
 black dog a major! Good God! am I never to hear 
 the last of him? Cummings wrote it, the fool, the 
 lying, fawning, slobbering fool; he ought to be shot 
 for it! Neither he nor his paper ever enter my 
 doors again! And I took the dirty sheet from her 
 hands and tore it to pieces " 
 
 "Yes," interposed Mrs. Tanberry, "it looks as if 
 you had done it with your teeth." 
 
 " And stamped it into the ground!" 
 
 "Oh, I heard you!" she said. 
 
 Carewe came close to her, and gave her a long 
 look from such bitter eyes that her own fell before 
 them. "If you've been treacherous to me, Jane 
 
234 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Tanberry," he said, "then God punish you! If 
 they've met nay daughter and that man while I 
 was away, it is on your head. I don't ask you, 
 because I believe if you knew anything you'd lie 
 for her sake. But I tell you that as she read that 
 paper, she did not hear my step on the walk nor 
 know that I was there until I leaned over her 
 shoulder. And I swear that I suspect her." 
 
 He turned and walked to the door, while the 
 indomitable Mrs. Tanberry, silenced for once, sank 
 into the chair he had vacated. Before he disap- 
 peared within the house, he paused. 
 
 "If Mr. Vanrevel has met my daughter," he said, 
 in a thick voice, stretching out both hands in a 
 strange, menacing gesture toward the "town that 
 lay darkling in the growing dusk, "if he has addressed 
 one word to her, or so much as allowed his eyes to 
 rest on her overlong, let him take care of himself!" 
 
 "(Mi, Robert, Robert," Mrs. Tanberry cried, in 
 a frightened whisper to herself, "all the fun and 
 brightness went out of the world when you came 
 home!" 
 
 For, in truth, the gayety and light-heartedness 
 which, during the great lady's too brief reign, had 
 seemed a vital adjunct of the house to make the 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 235 
 
 place resound with music and laughter, were now 
 departed. No more did Mrs. Tanberry extemporize 
 Dan Tuckers, mazourkas, or quadrilles in the ball- 
 room, nor Blind-Man's Buff in the library; no more 
 did serenaders nightly seek the garden with instru- 
 mental plunkings and vocal gifts of harmony. Even 
 the green bronze boy of the fountain seemed to share 
 the timidity of the other youths of the town where 
 Mr. Carewe was concerned, for the goblet he held 
 aloft no longer sent a lively stream leaping into the 
 sunshine in translucent gambols, but dribbled and 
 dripped upon him like a morbid autumn rain. The 
 depression of the place was like a drape of mourn- 
 ing purple; but not that house alone lay glum, and 
 there were other reasons than the return of Robert 
 Carewe why Rouen had lost the joy and mirth that 
 belonged to it. Nay, the merry town had changed 
 beyond all credence; it was hushed like a sick-room, 
 and dolefully murmurous with forebodings of fare- 
 well and sorrow. 
 
 For all the very flower of Rouen's youth had 
 promised to follow Tom Vanrevel on the long and 
 arduous journey to Mexico, to march burning miles 
 under the tropical sun, to face strange fevers and 
 guns of Santa Anna. 
 
236 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 Few were the houses of the more pretentious sort 
 that did not mourn, in prospect, the going of son, 
 or brother, or close friend; mothers already wept 
 not hi secret, fathers talked with husky bravado; 
 and everyone was very kind to those who were to 
 go, speaking to them gently and bringing them little 
 foolish presents. Nor could the hearts of girls now 
 longer mask as blocks of ice to the prospective 
 conquistador es; Eugene Madrillon's young brother, 
 Jean, after a two years' Beatrice-and-Benedict woo- 
 ing of Trixie Chenoweth (that notable spitfire) 
 announced his engagement upon the day after his 
 enlistment, and recounted to all who would listen 
 how his termagant fell upon his neck hi tears when 
 she heard the news. "And now she cries about me 
 all the time," finished the frank Jean blithely. 
 
 But there was little spirit for the old merri- 
 ments: there were no more carpet-dances at the 
 Bareauds', no masquerades at the Madrillons', no 
 picnics in the woods nor excursions on the river; 
 and no more did light feet bear light hearts 
 through the "mazes of the intricate schottische, 
 the subtle mazourka, or the stately quadrille," as 
 Will Cummings remarked in the Journal. Fanchon, 
 Virginia, and five or six others, spent their after- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 237 
 
 noons mournfully, and yet proudly, sewing and 
 cutting large pieces of colored silk, fashioning a 
 great flag for their sweethearts and brothers to 
 bear southward and plant where stood the palace 
 of the Montezumas. 
 
 That was sad work for Fanchon, though it was 
 not for her brother's sake that she wept, since, 
 as everyone knew, Jefferson was already so full of 
 malaria and quinine that the fevers of the South 
 and Mexico must find him invulnerable, and even 
 his mother believed he would only thrive and grow 
 hearty on his soldiering. But about Crailey, Fan- 
 chon had a presentiment more vivid than any 
 born of the natural fears for his safety; it came 
 to her again and again, reappearing in her dreams; 
 she shivered and started often as she worked on 
 the flag, then bent her fair head low over the gay 
 silks, while the others glanced at her sympathetically. 
 She had come to feel quite sure that Crailey was 
 to be shot. 
 
 "But I've dreamed it dreamed it six times!" 
 she cried, when he laughed at her and tried to 
 cheer her. "And it comes to me in the day-time 
 as though I saw it with my eyes: the picture of 
 you in an officer's uniform, lying on the fresh, 
 
238 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 green grass, and a red stain just below the 
 throat." 
 
 "That shows what dreams are made of, dear 
 lady," he smiled. "We'll find little green grass 
 in Mexico, and I'm only a corporal; so where's 
 the officer's uniform?" 
 
 Then Fanchon wept the more, and put her arms 
 about him, while it seemed to her that she must 
 cling to him so forever and thus withhold him from 
 fulfilling her vision, and that the gentle pressure 
 of her arms must somehow preserve him to life 
 and to her. "Ah, you can't go, darling," she 
 sobbed, while he petted her and tried to soothe 
 her. "You cant leave me! You belong to me! 
 They can't, can't, can't take you away from me!" 
 
 And when the flag was completed, save for sew- 
 ing the stars upon the blue ground, she took it 
 away from the others and insisted upon finishing 
 the work herself. To her own room she carried 
 it, and each of the white stars that the young men 
 of Rouen were to follow in the struggle that would 
 add so many others to the constellation, was jew- 
 elled with her tears and kissed by her lips as it 
 took its place with its brothers. Never were neater 
 stitches taken, for, with every atom of her body 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 239 
 
 yearning to receive the shot that was destined for 
 Crailey, this quiet sewing was all that she could 
 do ! She would have followed him, to hold a parasol 
 over him under the dangerous sun, to cook his 
 meals properly, to watch over him with medicines 
 and blankets and a fan; she would have followed 
 barefoot and bareheaded, and yet, her heart break- 
 ing with the crucial yearning to mother him and 
 protect him, this was all that she could do for 
 him, this small stitching at the flag he had prom- 
 ised to follow. 
 
 When the work was quite finished, she went all 
 over it again with double thread, not facing the 
 superstition of her motive, which was to safeguard 
 her lover: the bullet that was destined for Crailey 
 might, in the myriad chances, strike the flag first 
 and be deflected, though never so slightly, by 
 one of these last stitches, and Crailey's heart thus 
 missed by the same margin. 
 
 It was at this juncture, when the weeping of 
 women was plentiful, when old men pulled long 
 faces, and the very urchins of the street observed 
 periods of gravity and even silence, that a notion 
 entered the head of Mrs. Tanberry young Janie 
 Tanberry to the effect that such things were all 
 
240 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 wrong. She declared energetically that this was no 
 decent fashion of farewell; that after the soldiers 
 went away there would be time enough to enact 
 the girls they had left behind them; and that, 
 until then, the town should be made enlivening. 
 So she went about preaching a revival of cheer- 
 fulness, waving her jewelled hand merrily from 
 the Carewe carriage to the volunteers she saw upon 
 the street, calling out to them with laughter and 
 inspiring quip; everywhere scolding the mourners 
 viciously in her husky voice, and leaving so much 
 of heartening vivacity in her wake that none could 
 fail to be convinced that she was a wise woman. 
 
 Nor was her vigor spent in vain. It was decided 
 that a ball should be given to the volunteers of 
 Rouen two nights before their departure for the 
 State rendezvous, and it should be made the no- 
 blest festival in Rouen's history; the subscribers 
 took their oath to it. They rented the big dining- 
 room at the Rouen House, covered the floor with 
 smooth cloth, and hung the walls solidly with 
 banners and roses, for June had come. More, 
 they ran a red carpet across the sidewalk (which 
 was perfectly dry and clean) almost to the other 
 side of the street; they imported two extra fiddles 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 241 
 
 and a clarionet to enlarge the orchestra; arid they 
 commanded a supper such as a hungry man be- 
 holds in a dream. 
 
 Miss Betty laid out her prettiest dress that even- 
 ing, and Mrs. Tanberry came in and worshipped 
 it as it rested, like a foam of lavender and white 
 and gray, upon the bed, beside the snowy gloves 
 with their tiny, stiff lace gauntlets, while two small 
 white sandal-slippers, with jewelled buckles where 
 the straps crossed each other, were being fastened 
 upon Miss Betty's silken feet by the vain and 
 gloating Mamie. 
 
 "It's a wicked cruelty, Princess!" exclaimed 
 Mrs. Tanberry. "We want to cheer the poor 
 fellows and help them to be gay, and here do you 
 deliberately plan to make them sick at the thought 
 of leaving the place that holds you ! Or have you dis- 
 covered that there's one poor vagabond of the band 
 getting off without having his heart broken, and 
 made up your mind to do it for him to- night?" 
 
 "Is father to go with us?" asked Betty. It 
 was through Mrs. Tanberry that she now derived 
 all information concerning Mr. Carewe, as he had 
 not directly addressed her since the afternoon 
 when he discovered her reading the Journal's extra. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 i 
 
 "No, we are to meet him there. He seems rather 
 pleasanter than usual this evening," remarked 
 Mrs. Tanberry, hopefully, as she retired. 
 
 "Den we mus' git ready to share big trouble 
 to-morrer!" commented the kneeling Mamie, with 
 a giggle. 
 
 Alas, poor adoring servitress, she received a 
 share unto herself that very evening, for her young 
 mistress, usually as amiable as a fair summer sky, 
 fidgetted, grumbled, found nothing well done, and 
 was never two minutes in the same mind. After 
 donning the selected dress, she declared it a fright, 
 tried two others, abused each roundly, dismissed 
 her almost weeping handmaiden abruptly, and 
 again put on the first. Sitting down to the mirror, 
 she spent a full hour over the arrangement of her 
 hair, looking attentively at her image, sometimes 
 with the beginning of doubtful approval, often 
 angrily, and, now and then, beseechingly, imploring 
 it to be lovely. 
 
 When Mrs. Tanberry came in to tell her that 
 Nelson was at the block with the carriage, Miss 
 Betty did not turn, and the elder lady stopped 
 on the threshold and gave a quick, asthmatic gasp 
 of delight. For the picture she saw was, without 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 243 
 
 a doubt in the world, what she proclaimed it, a 
 moment later, ravishingly pretty: the girlish little 
 pink and white room with all its dainty settings 
 for a background, lit by the dozen candles in their 
 sconces and half as many slender silver candle- 
 sticks, and, seated before the twinkling mirror, the 
 beautiful Miss Carewe, in her gown of lace and 
 flounces that were crisp, yet soft, her rope of 
 pearls, her white sandals, and all the glory of her 
 youth. She had wound a wreath of white roses 
 into her hair, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes 
 warm and glowing, yet inscrutable in their long 
 gaze into the mirror. 
 
 "Oh," said Mrs. Tanberry," you make me want 
 to be a man ! I'd pick you up and run to the North 
 Pole, where no one could ever follow. And I can 
 tell you that it hurts not to throw my arms round 
 you and kiss you; but you're so exquisite I don't 
 want to touch you!" 
 
 In answer, Miss Betty ran to her and kissed her 
 rapturously on both cheeks. "Am I after all?" 
 she cried. "Am I? Is it? Will the roses do?" 
 And without heeding her companion's staccatoes of 
 approval she went rapidly to the open bureau, 
 snatched up a double handful of ribbons and fur- 
 
244 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 belows, and dashed out of the room in search of 
 the disgraced Mamie. She found her seated on 
 the kitchen door-step in lonely lamentation, and 
 showered the gifts into her lap, while the vain one 
 shrieked inimitably with pride in the sudden vision 
 of her mistress and joy of the incredible possessions. 
 
 "Here, and here, and here!" said Miss Betty , 
 in a breath, hurling the fineries upon her. "I'm 
 an evil-tongued shrew, Mamie, and these aren't to 
 make up for the pain I gave you, but just to show 
 that I'd like to if I knew how! Good-by!" And 
 she was off like an April breeze. 
 
 "Dance wid the han'somdest," screamed Mamie, 
 pursuing uproariously to see the last of her as she 
 jumped into the carriage, "bow to de wittriest 
 an' kiss de one you love de bes' !" 
 
 "That will be you!" said Miss Betty to Mrs 
 Tanberry, and kissed the good lady again. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 "THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG CHARMS" 
 
 IT is a matter not of notoriety but of the 
 happiest celebrity that Mrs. Tanberry danced 
 that night; and not only that she danced, but 
 that she waltzed. To the lot of Tappingham 
 Marsh (whom she pronounced the most wheedling 
 vagabond, next to Crailey Gray, of her acquaint- 
 ance) it fell to persuade her; and, after walking 
 a quadrille with the elder Chenoweth, she waltzed 
 with Tappingham. More extraordinary to re- 
 late, she danced down both her partner and the 
 music. Thereupon did Mr. Bareaud, stung with 
 envy, dare emulation and essay a schottische with 
 Miss Trixie Chenoweth, performing marvellously 
 well for many delectable turns before he unfor- 
 tunately fell down. It was a night when a sculp- 
 tured god would have danced on his pedestal: 
 June, but not over-warm, balm in the air and rose- 
 leaves on the breeze; and even Minerva's great 
 
 heels might have marked the time that orchestra 
 
 245 
 
246 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 kept. Be sure they waltzed again to "Those En- 
 dearing Young Charms": 
 
 "Oh, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, 
 
 But as truly loves on to the close: 
 As the sunflower turns on her god when he sett. 
 The same look that she gave when he rose." 
 
 Three of the volunteers were resplendent in their 
 regimentals: Mr. Marsh (who had been elected 
 captain of the new company to succeed Vanrevel), 
 and Will Cummings and Jean Madrillon, the lieu- 
 tenants. This glory was confined to the officers, 
 who had ordered their uniforms at home, for the 
 privates and non-commissioned officers were to re- 
 ceive theirs at the State rendezvous. However, 
 although this gala adornment was limited to the 
 three gentlemen mentioned, their appearance added 
 "an indescribable air of splendor and pathos to 
 the occasion," to quote Mr. Cummings once more. 
 A fourth citizen of the town who might have seized 
 upon this opportunity to display himself as a sol- 
 dier neglected to take advantage of it and stole in 
 quietly, toward the last, in his ordinary attire, 
 leaving his major's uniform folded on a chair in 
 his own room. The flag was to be presented to 
 the volunteers at the close of the evening, and 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 247 
 
 Tom came for that so he claimed to his accusing 
 soul. 
 
 He entered unobserved and made his way, keep- 
 ing close to the wall, to where Mrs. Bareaud sat, 
 taking a chair at her side; but Robert Care we, 
 glancing thither by chance, saw him, and changed 
 countenance for an instant. Mr. Carewe com- 
 posed his features swiftly, excused himself with 
 elaborate courtesy from Miss Chenoweth, with 
 whom he was talking, and crossed the room to a 
 corner near his enemy. Presently, as the music 
 ceased, the volunteers were bidden to come for- 
 ward, whereupon Tom left Mrs. Bareaud and began 
 to work his way down the room. Groups were 
 forming and breaking up in the general movement 
 of the crowd, and the dissolving of one brought 
 him face to face with Elizabeth Carewe, who was 
 moving slowly in the opposite direction, a small 
 flock of suitors in her train. 
 
 The confrontation came so suddenly and so un- 
 expectedly that, before either was aware, they 
 looked squarely into each other's eyes, full and 
 straight, and both stopped instantly as though 
 transfixed, Miss Betty leaving a sentence forever 
 half-complete. There was a fierce, short vocal 
 
248 THE TWO VAKREVELS 
 
 sound from the crowd behind Vanrevel; but no one 
 noticed Mr. Carewe; and then Tom bowed gravely, 
 as in apology for blocking the way, and passed on. 
 
 Miss Betty began to talk again, much at ran- 
 dom, with a vivacity too greatly exaggerated to 
 be genuine, while the high color went from her 
 cheeks and left her pale. Nothing could have en- 
 raged her more with herself than the conscious- 
 ness, now suddenly strong within her, that the 
 encounter had a perceptible effect upon her. What 
 power had this man to make her manner strained 
 and mechanical? What right had his eyes always 
 to stir her as they did? It was not he for whom 
 she had spent an hour over her hair; not he for 
 whom she had driven her poor handmaiden away 
 in tears; that was for one who had not come, one 
 great in heart and goodness, one of a pure and 
 sacrificial life who deserved all she could give, and 
 for whose sake she had honored herself in trying 
 to look as pretty as she could. He had not come; 
 and that hurt her a little, but she felt his gen- 
 erosity, believing that his motive was to spare her, 
 since she could not speak to him in Mr. Carewe's 
 presence without open and public rupture with her 
 father. Well, she was almost ready for that, see- 
 
I 
 
 THE TWO VANREVELS 249 
 
 ing how little of a father hers was! Ah! that other 
 should have come, if only to stand between her 
 and this tall hypocrite whose dark glance had 
 such strength to disturb her. What lies that gaze 
 contained, all in the one flash! the strange pre- 
 tence of comprehending her gently but completely; 
 a sad compassion, too, and with it a look of fare- 
 well, seeming to say: "Once more I have come for 
 this and just, 'Good-by!' ' For she knew that 
 he was going with the others, going perhaps for- 
 ever, only the day after to-morrow then she would 
 see him no more and be free of him. Let the day 
 after to-morrow come soon! Miss Betty hated 
 herself for understanding the adieu, and hated her- 
 self more because she could not be sure that, in 
 the startled moment of meeting before she collected 
 herself, she had let it go unanswered. 
 
 She had done more than that: without knowing 
 it she had bent her head to his bow, and Mr. Carewe 
 had seen both the salutation and the look. 
 
 The young men were gathered near the orchestra, 
 and, to the hilarious strains of "Yankee Doodle," 
 the flag they were to receive for their regiment 
 was borne down the room by the sisters and sweet- 
 
250 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 hearts who had made it, all of whom were there, 
 except Fanchon Bareaud. Crailey had persuaded 
 her to surrender the flag for the sake of spend- 
 ing this evening next to his last in Rouen at 
 home alone with him. 
 
 The elder Chenoweth made the speech of pres- 
 entation, that is, he made part of it before he broke 
 down, for his son stood in the ranks of the devoted 
 band. Until this incident occurred, all had gone 
 trippingly, for everyone had tried to put the day 
 after to-morrow from his mind. Perhaps there 
 might not have been so many tears even now, 
 if the young men had not stood together so smil- 
 ingly to receive their gift; it was seeing them so 
 gay and confident, so strong in their youth and 
 so unselfish of purpose; it was this, and the feeling 
 that all of them must suffer and some of them die 
 before they came back. So that when Mr. Cheno- 
 weth, choking in his loftiest flight, came to a full 
 stop, and without disguise buried his face in his 
 handkerchief, Mrs. Tanberry, the apostle of gayety, 
 openly sobbed. Chenoweth, without more ado, 
 carried the flag over to Tappingham Marsh, 
 whom Vanrevel directed to receive it, and Tap- 
 pingham thanked the donors without many 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 251 
 
 words, because there were not then many at his 
 command. 
 
 Miss Carewe had been chosen to sing 'The 
 Star Spangled Banner," and she stepped out a 
 little from the crowd to face the young man, 
 as the orchestra sounded the first chord. She sang 
 in a full, clear voice, but when the volunteers saw 
 that, as she sang, the tears were streaming down 
 her cheeks in spite of the brave voice, they began 
 to choke with the others. If Miss Betty Carewe 
 found them worth weeping for, they could afford 
 to cry a little for themselves. Yet they joined 
 the chorus nobly, and raised the roof with the 
 ringing song, sending the flamboyant, proud old 
 words thunderously to heaven 
 
 That was not the last song of the night. Gen- 
 eral Trumble and Mr. Chenoweth had invited their 
 young friends to attend, after the ball, a colla- 
 tion which they chose to call a supper, but which, 
 to accord with the hour, might more aptly have 
 been designated a breakfast. To afford a private 
 retreat for the scene of this celebration, they had 
 borrowed the offices of Gray and Vanrevel, and 
 Crailey hospitably announced that any guest was 
 welcome to stay for a year or two, since, prob- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 ably, neither of the firm would have need of an 
 office for at least that length of time. Nine men 
 gathered about the table which replaced Tom's 
 word-a-day old desk: the two Chenoweths, Eugene 
 Madrillon, Marsh, Jefferson Bareaud, the stout 
 General, Tom Vanrevel, Crailey, and Will Cum- 
 mings, the editor coming in a little late, but rub- 
 bing his hands cheerfully over what he declared 
 was to be the last column from his pen to rear 
 its length on the Journal's front page for many 
 a long day a description of the presentation 
 of the flag, a bit of prose which he considered al- 
 most equal to his report of the warehouse fire. 
 
 This convivial party made merry and tried to 
 forget that most of them had "been mighty 
 teary," as Marsh said, an hour earlier; while Mr. 
 Chenoweth sat with his hand on his son's shoulder, 
 unconsciously most of the time, apologetically re- 
 moving it when he obesrved it. Many were the 
 witticisms concerning the difference in rank hence- 
 forth to be observed between the young men, as 
 Tom was now a major, Marsh a captain, Will Cum- 
 mings a second lieutenant, and the rest mere pri- 
 vates, except Crailey, who was a corporal. Never- 
 theless, though the board was festive, it was 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 253 
 
 somewhat subdued and absent until they came to 
 the toasts. 
 
 It was Tappingham who proposed Miss Betty 
 Care we. "I know Tom Vanrevel will understand 
 nay, I know he's man enough to join us," said 
 Marsh as he rose. "Why shouldn't I say that we 
 may hail ourselves as patriots, indeed, since at the 
 call of our country we depart from the town which 
 is this lady's home, and at the trumpet's sound 
 resign the gracious blessing of seeing her day by 
 day, and why shouldn't we admit loyally and 
 openly that it is her image alone which shines in 
 the hearts of most of us here?" 
 
 And no man rose to contradict that speech, 
 which appears to have rung true, seeing that four 
 of those present had proposed to her (again) that 
 same evening. 
 
 "So I give you," cried Tappingham, gallantly, 
 "the health of Miss Betty Carewe, the loveliest 
 rose of our bouquet! May she remember us when 
 we come home!" 
 
 They rose and drank it with a shout. But Tom 
 Vanrevel, not setting down his cup, went to the 
 window and threw wide the shutters, letting in a 
 ruddy shaft of the morning sun, so that as he stood 
 
254 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 in the strong! glow he looked like a man carved out of 
 red gold. He lifted his glass, not toward the table and 
 his companions, while they stared at him, surprised, 
 but toward the locusts of Carewe Street. 
 
 "To Miss Betty Carewe," he said, "the finest 
 flower of them all! May she remember those who 
 never come home!" 
 
 And, without pausing, he lifted his rich bari- 
 tone in an old song that had been vastly pop- 
 ular with the young men of Rouen ever since the 
 night of Miss Betty's debut; they had hummed 
 it as they went about their daily work, they had 
 whistled it on the streets; they had drifted into 
 dreams at night with the sound of it still chiming 
 in their ears; and now, with one accord, as they 
 stood gathered together for the last time in Rouen, 
 they joined Tom Vanrevel and sang it again. And 
 the eyes of Crailey Gray rested very gently upon 
 his best friend as they sang: 
 
 "* Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, 
 
 Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, 
 Were to change by to-morrow and fleet from my arm*. 
 Like fairy gifts fading away, 
 
 Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art: 
 
 Let thy loveliness fade as it will, 
 And around the dear ruin, each wish of my heart 
 
 Would entwine itself verdantly stitt" 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE PRICE OF SILENCE 
 
 IT was the misfortune of Mr. Cummings's final 
 literary offering to annoy one of the editor's 
 friends. The Journal was brought to the new 
 corporal at noon, while he was considering whether 
 he should rise from his couch or sleep another 
 hour. RecHning among his pillows, he glanced 
 through Cummings's description with the subdued 
 giggle he always had for the good William's style, 
 but as his eye fell upon one paragraph he started, 
 sat upright, and proceeded to read the passage 
 several times with anxious attention. 
 
 "Only two or three sources of regret occurred 
 to mar the delight (in which young and old par- 
 ticipated) of that festal and dazzling scene. One 
 was the absence of Miss Fanchon Bareaud, one of 
 the donors; another, that of Corporal Gray; a 
 third was the excessive modesty of Major Van- 
 revel, who, although present at the time, refused 
 
 to receive the ladies' sumptuous offering and in- 
 
 255 
 
256 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 sisted that Captain Marsh was the proper person 
 to do the honors, to which the latter reluctantly, 
 though gracefully, consented. Also, we were sorry 
 that the Major appeared in citizen's dress, as all 
 were anxious to witness him in his uniform. How- 
 ever, in our humble judgment, he will be compelled 
 by etiquette to don it this afternoon, to receive 
 the officers of the regular army, who will arrive 
 by the stage about five o'clock, it is expected, to 
 inspect the company and swear them into the 
 service of the Federal Government at the Court 
 House. We, for one, have little doubt that, owing 
 to the Major's well-known talent in matters of 
 apparel, his appearance will far eclipse in brilliancy 
 that of his fellow-officers." 
 
 Crailey dressed slowly, returning to the paper, 
 now and then, with a perturbed countenance. How 
 would Miss Betty explain this paragraph to her- 
 self, and how account for the fact that she had 
 not seen Crailey, how for the fact that she had 
 seen Tom? It seemed unlikely that she could have 
 overlooked the latter Tom was one of those whom 
 everybody saw, wherever he went. And what 
 inquiries would she make? For Crailey had no 
 means of knowing that she would not see the Journal. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 257 
 
 To-morrow he would be gone, it would be all over, 
 but he wanted this last day to run smoothly. 
 What wild hopes he had of things that should 
 happen when they all came marching home, no 
 one can say; even if it were not to be doubted 
 that Crailey ever entertained hopes of any kind 
 whatever, since to hope is to bestow thought upon 
 the future. 
 
 But, however affairs ran with him so far as hope 
 was concerned, he seldom lacked an idea; and one 
 came to him presently, a notion that put a frown 
 to rout and brought the old smile to his lips, his 
 smile of the w^orld-worn and tolerant prelate. He 
 flicked the paper lightly from him, and it spread 
 across the room like a big bird in awkward flight. 
 For he knew how to preserve his last day as he 
 wished, to make all smooth. 
 
 He finished his toilet with particular care, took 
 a flower from a vase on his table, placed it in his 
 coat, and went down to the dusty street, where 
 everything was warm and bright with summer. It 
 was joy to be alive; there was wine enough in the 
 air; and Crailey made up his mind not to take a 
 drink that day the last day! The last day! The 
 three words kept ringing through his head like 
 
258 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 a minor phrase from a song. To-morrow, at noon, 
 they would be churning down the river; and this 
 was the last day the last day! 
 
 "Still, not too late to make another friend at 
 home," he said, stopping to pat the head of a mangy 
 street cur that came crouching and wobbling 
 toward him like a staveless little keg worried by 
 scurries of wind. Dogs and children always 
 fell in love with Crailey at first sight, and he never 
 failed to receive them in the spirit of their ap- 
 proach. Now the mongrel, at his touch, im- 
 mediately turned himself over and lay upon the 
 pavement with all paws in air, to say: "Great 
 lord, magnificent in the graciousness which deigns 
 to cast a glimpse upon this abject cluster of ribs, 
 I perceive that your heart is too gentle to kick 
 me in my present helplessness; yet do with me 
 as you will." 
 
 "I doubt if you've breakfasted, brother/' 
 Crailey responded aloud, rubbing the dog's head 
 softly with the tip of his boot. "Will you share 
 the meagre fare of one who is a poet, should be a 
 lawyer, but is about to become a soldier? Eh, 
 but a corporal! Rise, my friend. Up! and be in 
 your own small self a whole Corporal's Guard! 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 259 
 
 And if your Corporal doesn't come home from the 
 wars, perhaps you'll remember him kindly? Think?" 
 
 He made a vivacious gesture, the small animal 
 sprang into the air, convoluted with gratitude and 
 new love, while Crailey, laughing softly, led the 
 way to the hotel. There, while he ate sparsely 
 himself, he provided munificently for his new ac- 
 quaintance, and recommended him, with an accom- 
 paniment of silver, to the good offices of the Rouen 
 House kitchen. After that, out into the sunshine 
 again he went, with elastic step, and a merry word 
 and a laugh for everyone he met. At the old 
 English gardener's he bought four or five bou- 
 quets, and carried them on a round of visits of 
 farewell to as many old ladies who had been kind 
 to him. This done, leaving his laughter and his 
 flowers behind him, he went to Fanchon and spent 
 part of the afternoon bringing forth cunning 
 arguments cheerily, to prove to her that General 
 Taylor would be in the Mexican capital before 
 the volunteers reached New Orleans, and urging 
 upon her his belief that they would all be back 
 in Rouen before the summer was gone. 
 
 But Faackon could only sob and whisper, "Hush, 
 hush!*' in tke dim room where they sat, the win- 
 
260 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 dows darkened so that, after he had gone, he should 
 not remember how red her eyes were, and the 
 purple depths under them, and thus forget how 
 pretty she had been at her best. After a time, 
 finding that the more he tried to cheer her, the 
 more brokenly she wept, he grew silent, only strok- 
 ing her head, while the summer sounds came in 
 through the window: the mill -whir of locusts, the 
 small monotone of distant farm-bells, the laughter 
 of children in the street, and the gay arias of a 
 mocking-bird swinging in the open window of the 
 next house. So they sat together through the 
 long, still afternoon of the last day. 
 
 No one in Rouen found that afternoon particu- 
 larly enlivening. Even Mrs. Tanberry gave way 
 to the common depression, and, once more, her 
 doctrine of cheerfulness relegated to the ghostly 
 ranks of the purely theoretical, she bowed under 
 the burden of her woe so far as to sing "Methought 
 I Met a Damsel Fair" (her of the bursting sighs) 
 at the piano. Whenever sadness lay upon her 
 soul she had acquired the habit of resorting to this 
 unhappy ballad; to-day she sang it four times. 
 Mr. Carewe was not at home, and had announced 
 that though he intended to honor the evening meal 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 261 
 
 by his attendance, he should be away for the 
 evening itself; as comment upon which statement 
 Mrs. Tanberry had offered ambiguously the one 
 word, "Amen!" He was stung to no reply, and 
 she had noted the circumstance as unusual, and 
 also that he had appeared to labor with the sup- 
 pression of a keen excitement, which made him 
 anxious to escape from her sharp little eyes; an 
 agitation for which she easily accounted when 
 she recalled that he had seen Vanrevel on the 
 previous evening. Mr. Carewe had kept his prom- 
 ise to preserve the peace, as he always kept it when 
 the two met on neutral ground, but she had 
 observed that his face showed a kind of hard- 
 leashed violence whenever he had been forced to 
 breathe the air of the same room with his enemy, 
 and that the thing grew on him. 
 
 Miss Betty exhibited not precisely a burning 
 interest in the adventure of the Damsel Fair, wan- 
 dering out of the room during the second rendi- 
 tion, wandering back again, and once more away. 
 She had moved about the house in this fashion 
 since early morning, wearing what Mamie de- 
 scribed as a "peak-ed look." White-faced and 
 restless, with distressed eyes, to which no sleep 
 
262 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 had come in the night, she could not read; 
 she could no more than touch her harp; she could 
 not sleep; she could not remain quiet for three 
 minutes together. Often she sank into a chair 
 with an air of languor and weariness, only to start 
 immediately out of it and seek some other part 
 of the house, or to go and pace the garden. Here, 
 in the air heavy with roses and tremulous with 
 June, as she walked rapidly up and down, late 
 in the afternoon, at the time when the faraway 
 farm-bells were calling men from the fields to 
 supper, the climax of her restlessness came. That 
 anguish and desperation, so old in her sex, the 
 rebellion against the law that inaction must be her 
 part, had fallen upon her for the first time. She 
 came to an abrupt stop and struck her hands to- 
 gether despairingly, and spoke aloud. 
 "What shall I do! What shall I do!" 
 "Ma'am?" asked a surprised voice, just behind her. 
 She wheeled quickly about, to behold a shock- 
 headed urchin of ten in the path near the little 
 clearing. He was ragged, tanned, dusty, neither 
 shoes nor coat trammelling his independence; and 
 he had evidently entered the garden through the 
 gap in the hedge. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 263 
 
 "I thought you spoke to me?" he said, in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 "I didn't see you/' she returned. "What is 
 it?" 
 
 "You Miss Carewe?" he asked; but before she 
 could answer he said, reassuringly, "Wliy, of course 
 you are! I remember you perfect, now I git the 
 light on you, so to speak. Don't you remem- 
 ber me?" 
 
 "No, I don't think I do." 
 
 "Lord!" he responded, wonderingly. "I was 
 one of the boys with you on them boxes the night 
 of your pa's fire!" Mingled with the surprise 
 in his tone was a '^respectful unction which inti- 
 mated how greatly he honored her father for 
 having been the owner of so satisfactory a con- 
 flagration. 
 
 "Were you? Perhaps I'll remember you if you 
 give me time." 
 
 But at this point the youth recalled the fact 
 that he had an errand to discharge, and, assum- 
 ing an expression of businesslike haste too press- 
 ing to permit farther parley, sought in his pocket 
 and produced a sealed envelope, with which he 
 advanced upon her. 
 
264 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Here. There's an answer. He told me not 
 to tell nobody who sent it, and not to give it to 
 nobody on earth, but you, and how to slip in through 
 the hedge and try and find you in the garden when 
 nobody was lookin' and he gave a pencil for you 
 to answer on the back of it, and a dollar." 
 
 Miss Betty took the note, glancing once over 
 her shoulder at the house, but Mrs. Tanberry was 
 still occupied with the Maiden, and no one was 
 in sight. She read the message hastily. 
 
 "I have obeyed you, and shall always. You 
 have not sent for me. Perhaps that was because 
 there was no time when you thought it safe. Per- 
 haps you have still felt there would be a loss of 
 dignity. Does that weigh with you against good-by? 
 Tell me, if you can, that you have it in your 
 heart to let me go without seeing you once more, 
 without good-by for the last time. Or was it 
 untrue that you wrote me what you did? Was 
 that dear letter but a little fairy dream of mine? 
 Ah, will you see me again, this once this once 
 let me look at you, let me talk with you, hear 
 your voice? The last time!" 
 
 There was no signature. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 265 
 
 Miss Betty quickly wrote four lines upon the 
 same sheet: "Yes yes! I must see you, must 
 talk with you before you go. Come at dusk. The 
 garden near the gap in the hedge. It will be 
 safe for a little while. He will not be here." She 
 replaced the paper in its envelope, drew a line 
 through her own name on the letter, and wrote 
 "Mr. Vanrevel" underneath. 
 
 "Do you know the gentleman who sent you?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "No'm; but he'll be waitin' at his office, 'Gray 
 and Vanrevel,' on Main Street, for the answer." 
 
 "Then hurry!" said Betty. 
 
 He needed no second bidding, but, with wings 
 on his bare heels, made off through the gap in the 
 hedge. At the corner of the street he encountered 
 an adventure, a gentleman's legs and a heavy hand 
 at the same time. The hand fell on his shoulder, 
 arresting his scamper with a vicious jerk; and the 
 boy was too awed to attempt an escape, for he 
 knew his captor well by sight, although never 
 before had he found himself so directly in the 
 company of Rouen's richest citizen. The note 
 dropped from the small trembling fingers, yet those 
 fingers did not shake as did the man's when, like 
 
266 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 a flash, Carewe seized upon the missive with his 
 disengaged hand and saw what two names were 
 on the envelope. 
 
 "You were stealing, were you!" he cried, sav- 
 agely. "I saw you sneak through my hedge!" 
 
 "I didn't, either!" 
 
 Mr. Carewe ground his teeth. "What were 
 you doing there?" 
 
 "Nothing!" 
 
 "Nothing!" mocked Carewe. "Nothing! You 
 didn't carry this to the young lady in there and 
 get her answer?" 
 
 "No, sir!" answered the captive, earnestly. "Cross 
 my heart I didn't. I found it!" 
 
 Slowly the corrugations of anger were levelled 
 from the magnate's face, the white heat cooled, 
 and the prisoner marvelled to find himself in the 
 presence of an urbane gentleman whose placidity 
 made the scene of a moment ago appear some 
 trick of distorted vision. And yet, curious to be- 
 hold, Mr. Carewe's fingers shook even more vio- 
 lently than before, as he released the boy's shoulder 
 and gave him a friendly tap on the head, at the 
 same time smiling benevolently. 
 
 "There, there," he said, bestowing a wink upon 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 267 
 
 the youngster. "It's all right; it doesn't matter 
 only I think I see the chance of a jest in this. 
 You wait, while I read this little note, this mes- 
 sage that you found!" He ended by winking again 
 with the friendliest drollery. 
 
 He turned his back to the boy, and opened the 
 note'; continuing to stand in that position while 
 he read the two messages. It struck the messen- 
 ger that, after this, there need be no great shame 
 in his own lack of this much-vaunted art of reading, 
 rince it took so famous a man as Mr. Carewe such 
 length of time to peruse a little note. But perhaps 
 the great gentleman was ill, for it appeared to 
 the boy that he lurched several times, once so 
 far that he would have gone over if he had not 
 saved himself by a lucky stagger. And once, ex- 
 cept for the fact that the face that had turned 
 away had worn an expression of such genial humor, 
 the boy would have believed that from it issued 
 a sound like the gnashing of teeth. 
 
 But when it was turned to him again, it bore 
 the same amiable jocosity of mouth and eye, and 
 nothing seemed to be the matter, except that those 
 fingers still shook so wildly, too wildly, indeed, to 
 restore the note to its envelope. 
 
268 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "There," said Mr. Carewe, "put it back, lad- 
 die, put it back yourself. Take it to the gentle- 
 man who sent you. I see he's even disguised his 
 hand a trifle ha! ha! and I suppose he may not 
 have expected the young lady to write his name 
 quite so boldly on the envelope! What do you 
 suppose?" 
 
 "I d'know," returned the boy. "I reckon I 
 don't hardly understand." 
 
 "No, of course not," said Mr. Carewe, laugh- 
 ing rather madly. "Ha, ha, ha! Of course you 
 wouldn't. And how much did he give you?" 
 
 "Yoy!" cried the other, joyously. "Didn't he 
 go and hand me a dollar!" 
 
 "How much will you take not to tell him that 
 I stopped you and read it; how much not to speak 
 of me at all?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "It's a foolish kind of joke, nothing more. I'll 
 give you "five dollars never to tell anyone that you 
 saw me to-day." 
 
 "Don't shoot, Colonel," exclaimed the youth, 
 with a riotous fling of bare feet in the air, "I'll 
 come down!" 
 
 "You'll do it?" 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 269 
 
 "Five!" he shouted, dancing upon the boards. 
 "Five! I'll cross my heart to die I never hear 
 tell of you, or ever knew they was sich a man in 
 the world!" 
 
 Carewe bent over him. "No! Say: 'God strike 
 me dead and condemn me eternally to the ever- 
 lasting flames of hell if I ever tell!' " 
 
 This entailed quick sobriety, though only benev- 
 olence was in the face above him. The jig-step 
 stopped, and the boy pondered, frightened. 
 
 "Have I got to say that?" 
 
 Mr. Carewe produced a bank-bill about which 
 the boy beheld a halo. Clearly this was his day; 
 heaven showed its approval of his conduct by an 
 outpouring of imperishable riches. And yet the 
 oath misliked him; there was a savor of the de- 
 moniacal contract; still that was to be borne and 
 the plunge taken, for there fluttered the huge sum 
 before his dazzled eyes. He took a deep breath. 
 " 'God strike me dead' ' he began, slowly 
 
 " 'if I ever' 
 
 "No. 'And condemn me to the everlasting 
 
 flames of hell' " 
 
 "Have I got to?" 
 "Yes." 
 
270 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 ' 'And condemn me to to the everlasting 
 flames of of hell, if I ever tell!' " 
 
 He ran off, pale with the fear that he might 
 grow up, ta,ke to drink and some day tell in his 
 cups, but so resolved not to coquet with tempta- 
 tion that he went round a block to avoid the door 
 of the Rouen House bar. Nevertheless, the note 
 was in his hand and the fortune in his pocket. 
 
 And Mr. Carewe was safe. He knew that the 
 boy would never tell, and he knew another thing, 
 for he had read the Journal, though it came no 
 more to his house: he knew that Tom Vanrevel 
 wore his uniform that evening, and that, even ir 
 the dusk, the brass buttons on an officer's breast 
 make a good mark for a gun steadied along the 
 ledge of a window. As he entered the gates and 
 went toward the house he glanced up at the window 
 which overlooked his garden from the cupola. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE UNIFORM 
 
 CRAILEY was not the only man in Rouen 
 who had been saying to himself all day 
 that each accustomed thing he did was 
 done for the last time. Many of his comrades 
 went about with "Farewell, old friend," in their 
 hearts, not only for the people, but for the usual 
 things of life and the actions of habit, now be- 
 come unexpectedly dear and sweet to know or to 
 perform. So Tom Vanrevel, relieved of his hot 
 uniform, loose as to collar, wearing a big dressing- 
 gown, and stretched in a chair, watched the sunset 
 from the western window of the dusty office, where 
 he had dreamed through many sunsets in summers 
 past, and now took his leave of this old habit of his 
 in silence, with a long cigar, considering the chances 
 largely against his ever seeing the sun go down 
 behind the long wooden bridge at the foot of Main 
 Street again. 
 
 The ruins of the warehouses had been removed, 
 
 271 
 
272 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 and the river was laid clear to his sight; it ran 
 between brown banks like a river of rubies, and, at 
 the wharf, the small evening steamboat, ugly and 
 grim enough to behold from near by, lay pink and 
 lovely in that broad glow, tooting imminent de- 
 parture, although an hour might elapse- before it 
 would back into the current. The sun widened, 
 clung briefly to the* horizon, and dropped behind 
 the low hills beyond the bottom lands; the stream 
 grew purple, then took on a lustre of pearl as the 
 stars came out, while rosy distances changed to 
 misty blue; the chatter of the birds in the Main 
 Street maples became quieter, and, though lessen- 
 ing little choruses of twittering, fell gradually to 
 silence. And now the blue dusk crept on the town, 
 and the corner drug-store window-light threw mot- 
 tled colors on the pavement. From the hall, outside 
 the closed office-door, came the sound of quick, 
 light footsteps; it was Crailey going out; but Tom 
 only sighed to himself, and did not hail him. So 
 these light footsteps of Crailey Gray echoed but a 
 moment in the stairway, and were heard no more. 
 
 A few moments later a tall figure, wrapped from 
 neck to heels in a gray cloak, rapidly crossed the 
 mo tiled lights, and disappeared into Care we Street. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 273 
 
 This cloaked person wore on his head a soldier's 
 cap, and Tom, not recognizing him surely, vaguely 
 wondered why Tappingham Marsh chose to muffle 
 himself so warmly on a June evening. He noted the 
 quick, alert tread as unlike Marsh's usual gait, but 
 no suspicion crossed his mind that the figure might 
 be that of his partner. 
 
 A rocket went up from the Rouen House, then 
 another, followed by a salvo of anvils and a rackety 
 discharge of small-arms; the beginning of a noble 
 display of fireworks in celebration of the prospec- 
 tive victories of the United States and the utter 
 discomfiture of the Mexicans when the Rouen Vol- 
 unteers should reach the seat of war, an exhibition of 
 patriotism which brought little pleasure to Mr. 
 Van revel. 
 
 But over the noise of the street he heard his 
 own name shouted from the stairway, and almost 
 instantly a violent knocking assailed the door. Be- 
 fore he could bid the visitor enter, the door was 
 flung open by a stout and excited colored woman, 
 who, at sight of him, threw up her hands in trem- 
 ulous thanksgiving. It was the vain Mamie. 
 
 She sank into a chair, and rocked herself to and 
 fro, gasping to regain her lost breath. "Bless de 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 good God 'Imighty you ain' gone out!" she panted 
 "I run an' I run, an' I come so fas' I got stitches in 
 de side f'um head to heel!" 
 
 Tom brought her a glass of water, which she 
 drank between gasps. 
 
 "I nevah run so befo' enduin' my livin' days," 
 she asserted. "You knows me, who I am an' whum 
 I cum f'um, nigh's well's I knows who you is, I 
 reckon, Maje' Vanrevel?" / 
 
 "Yes, yes, I know. Will you tell me who sent 
 you?" 
 
 "Miz Tanberry, suh, dat w r ho sended me, an' in a 
 venomous hurry she done de same!" 
 
 "Yes. W T hy? Does she want me?" 
 
 Mamie emitted a screech. "'Deed she mos' ever- 
 las'in'ly does not! Dat de ve'y exackindes' livin' 
 t'ing she does not want!" 
 
 "Then what is it, Mamie?" 
 
 "Lemme git my bref, suh, an' you hole yo'ne 
 whiles I tell you! She say to me, she say: 'Is you 
 'quainted Maje' Vanrevel, Mamie?' s' she, an' I 
 up'n' ansuh, 'Not to speak wid, but dey ain' none 
 on 'em I don' knows by sight, an' none betterer dan 
 him,' I say. Den she say, she say: 'You run all de 
 way an' fin' dat young man,' she say, s' she, 'an' if 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 275 
 
 you don' git dah fo' he leave, er don' stop him on de 
 way, den God 'Imighty fergive you!' she say. 'But 
 you tell him f'um Jane Tanberry not to come nigh 
 tlis house or dis gyahden dis night! Tell him dat 
 Jane Tanberry warn him he mus' keep outer Ca- 
 rewe's way ontel he safe on de boat to-morrer. Tell 
 him Jane Tanberry beg him to stay in he own room 
 dis night, an' dat she beg it on her bented knees!' 
 An' dis she say to me when I tole her what Nelson 
 see in dat house dis evenin'. An' hyuh I is, an' hyuh 
 you is, an' de blessed Jesus be thank', you is hyuh!" 
 
 Tom regarded her with a grave attention. "What 
 made Mrs. Tanberry think I might be coming there 
 to-night?" 
 
 "Dey's cur'ous goin's-on in dat house, suh! De 
 young lady she ain' like herself; all de day long she 
 wanduh up an' down an' roun' about. Miz Tan- 
 berry are a mighty guessifying woman, an* de min- 
 ute I tell her what Nelse see, she s'pec' you a-comin' 
 an' dat de boss mos' pintedly preparin' fo' it!" 
 
 "Can you make it a little clearer for me, Mamie? 
 I'm afraid I don't understand." 
 
 "Well, suh, you know dat ole man Nelson, he 
 allays tell me ev'yt'ing he know, an' ev'yt'ing he 
 think he know, jass de same, suh. An' dat ole Nelse, 
 
276 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 he mos' 'sessful cull'd man in de worl' to crope 
 roun' de house an' pick up de gossip an' git de 'fo' 
 an' behine er what's goin' on. So 'twas dat he see 
 de boss, when he come in to'des evenin', tek dat 
 heavy musket offn' de racks an' load an' clean her, 
 an' he do it with a mighty bad look 'bout de mouf. 
 Den he gone up to de cupoly an' lef ' it dah, an' den 
 come down ag'in. Whiles dey all is eatin', he 
 'nounce th'ee time' dat he goin' be 'way endu'in' 
 de evenin'. Den he gone out de front do', an' out 
 de gates, an' down de street. Den, suh, den, suh, 
 'tain't no mo'n a half-'n-'our ago, Nelse come to me 
 an' say dat he see de boss come roun' de stable, 
 keepin' close in by de shrubbery, an' crope in de 
 ball-room winder, w'ich is close to de groun', suh. 
 Nelse 'uz a cleanin' he harness in de back yo'd an' 
 he let on not to see him, like. Miss Betty, she 
 walkin' in her gyahden an' Miz Tanberry fan' on de 
 po'ch. Nelse, he slip de house whuh de lights am' 
 lit, an'stan' an' listen long time in de liberry at de 
 foot er dem sta'hs; an' he hyuh dat man move, suh! 
 Den Nelse know dat he done crope up to de cupoly 
 room an' an' dat he settin' dah, waitin 9 ! Soze he 
 come an' tole me, an' I beg Miz Tanberry come in 
 de kitchen, an' I shet de do' an' I tole her. An' she 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 277 
 
 sended me hyuh to you, suh. An' if you 'uz a-goin', 
 de good God 'Imighty mus' er kep' you ontel I got 
 hyuh!" 
 
 "No; I wasn't going." Tom smiled upon her 
 sadly. "I dare say there's a simpler explanation. 
 Don't you suppose that if Nelson was right and Mr. 
 Carewe really did come back, it was because he did 
 not wish his daughter and Mrs, Tanberry to know 
 that that he expected a party of friends, possibly, 
 to join him there later?" 
 
 "What he doin' wid dat gun, suh? Nobody goin' 
 play cyahds ner frow dice wid a gun, is dey?" asked 
 Mamie, as she rose and walked toward the door. 
 
 "Oh, that was probably by chance." 
 
 "No, suh!" she cried, vehemently. "An' dem 
 gelmun wouldn' play t'-night, no way; mos' on 'em 
 goin' wid you to-morrer an' dey sayin* good-by to 
 de'r folks dis evenin', not gamblin'! Miz Tanberry 
 '11 be in a state er mine ontel she hyuh f 'um me, an' 
 I goin' hurry back. You won' come dah, suh? I 
 kin tell her dat you say you sutney ain' comin' nigh 
 our neighborhood dis night?" 
 
 "I had not dreamed of coming, tell her, please. 
 Probably I shall not go out at all this evening. But 
 it was kind of you to come. Good-night." 
 
278 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 He stood with a candle to light her down the 
 stairs, but after she had gone he did not. return 
 to the office. Instead, he went slowly up to his own 
 room, glancing first into Crailey 's the doors of 
 neither were often locked to- behold a chaos of 
 disorder and unfinished packing. In his own 
 chamber it only remained for him to close the lids 
 of a few big boxes, and topack a small trunk which 
 he meant to take with him to the camp of the State 
 troops, and he would be ready for departure. He 
 set about this task, and, concluding that there was 
 no necessity to wear his uniform on the steamboat, 
 decided to place it in the trunk, and went to the 
 bed where he had h.Hed and left it. It was not 
 there. Nor did a thorough search reveal it any- 
 where in the room. Yet no one could have stolen 
 it, for when he had gone down to the office Crailey 
 had remained on this floor. Mamie had come within 
 a few minutes after Crailey went out, and during 
 his conversation with her the office-door had been 
 open; no one could have passed without being seen. 
 Also, a thief would have taken other things as well 
 as the uniform; and surely Crailey must have heard; 
 Crailey would Crailey ! 
 
 Then Tom remembered the figure in the long 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 279 
 
 cloak and the military cap, and, with a sick heart, 
 began to understand. He had read the Journal, 
 and he knew why Crailey might wish to masquer- 
 ade in a major's uniform that night. If Miss Carewe 
 read it too, and a strange wonder rose in her mind, 
 this and a word would convince her. Tom con- 
 sidered it improbable that the wonder would rise, 
 for circumstances had too well established her in a 
 mistake, trivial and ordinary enough at first, merely 
 the confusing of two names by a girl new to the 
 town, but so strengthened by every confirmation 
 Crailey's wit could compass that she would, no 
 doubt, only set Cummings's paragraph aside as a 
 newspaper error. Still, Crailey had wished to be on 
 the safe side! 
 
 Tom sighed rather bitterly. He was convinced 
 that the harlequin would come home soon, replace 
 the uniform (which was probably extremely becom- 
 ing to him, as they were of a height and figure much 
 the same), and afterward, in hi ordinary dress, 
 would sally forth to spend his last evening with 
 Fanchon. Tom wondered how Crailey would feel 
 and what he would think about himself while he 
 was changing his clothes; but he remembered his 
 partner's extraordinary powers of mental adjust- 
 
280 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 ment and for the first time in his life Vanrevel 
 made no allowance for the other's temperament; 
 and there came to him a moment when he felt that 
 he could almost dislike Crailey Gray. 
 
 At all events, he would go out until Crailey had 
 come and left again; for he had no desire to behold 
 the masquerader's return. So he exchanged his 
 dressing-gown for a coat, fastened his collar, and 
 had begun to arrange his cravat at the mirror, when, 
 suddenly, the voice of the old negress seemed to 
 sound close beside him in the room: 
 
 "He's settin' dah waitin'!" 
 
 The cravat was never tied; Tom's hands dropped 
 to his sides as he started back from the staring face 
 in the mirror. Robert Carewe was waiting and 
 
 Crailey All at once there was but one vital 
 
 necessity in the world for Tom Vanrevel, that was 
 to find Crailey; he must go to Crailey even in 
 Carewe's own house he must go to Crailey! 
 
 He dashed down the stairs and into the street. 
 The people were making a great uproar in front 
 of the hotel, exploding bombs, firing muskets in 
 the air, sending up rockets; and rapidly crossing 
 the outskirts of the crowd, he passed into Carewe 
 Street, unnoticed- Here the detonations were nof 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 281 
 
 so deafening, though the little steamboat at the 
 wharf was contributing to the confusion with all in 
 her power, screeching simultaneously approval of 
 the celebration and her last signals of departure. 
 
 At the first corner Tom had no more than left 
 the sidewalk when he came within a foot of being 
 ridden down by two horsemen who rode at so des- 
 perate a gallop that (the sound of their hoof -beats 
 being lost in the uproar from Main Street) they 
 were upon him before he was aware of them. 
 
 He leaped back with an angry shout to know 
 who they were that they rode so wildly. At the 
 same time a sharp explosion at the foot of the street 
 sent a red flare over the scene, a flash, gone with 
 such incredible swiftness into renewed darkness that 
 he saw the flying horsemen almost as equestrian 
 statues illumined by a flicker of Eghtning, but he 
 saw them with the same distinctness that Lightning 
 gives, and recognized the foremost as Robert Carewe. 
 And in the instant of that recognition, Tom knew 
 what had happened to Crailey Gray, for he saw 
 the truth in the ghastly face of his enemy. 
 
 Carewe rode stiffly, like a man frozen upon his 
 horse, and his face was like that of a frozen man; 
 his eyes glassy and not fixed upon his course, so 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 that it was a deathly thing to see. Once, long 
 ago, Tom had seen a man riding for his life, and 
 he wore this same look. The animal bounded and 
 swerved under VanrevePs enemy in the mad rush 
 down the street, but he sat rigid, bolt upright 
 
 in the saddle, his face set to that look of cold- 
 
 i 
 
 ness. 
 
 The second rider was old Nelson, who rode with 
 body crouched forward, his eyeballs like shining 
 porcelain set in ebony, and his arm like a flail, 
 cruelly lashing his own horse and his master's with 
 a heavy whip. 
 
 "De steamboat!" he shouted, hoarsely, bringing 
 down the lash on one and then on the other. "De 
 steamboat, de steamboat fo' God's sake, honey, de 
 steamboat!" 
 
 They swept into Main Street, Nelson leaning far 
 across to the other's bridle, and turning both horses 
 toward the river, but before they had made the 
 corner, Tom Vanrevel was running with all the 
 speed that was in him toward his enemy's house. 
 The one block between him and that forbidden 
 ground seemed to him miles long, and he felt that 
 he was running as a man in a dream, and, at the 
 highest pitch of agonized exertion, covering no 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 283 
 
 space, but only working the air in one place, like 
 a treadmill. All that was hi his mind, heart, and 
 soul was to reach Crailey. He had known by the 
 revelation of Carewe's face in what case he would 
 find his friend; but as he ran he put the knowl- 
 edge from him with a great shudder, and resolved 
 upon incredulity in spite of his certainty. All he 
 let himself feel was the need to run, to run until he 
 found Crailey, who was somewhere in the darkness 
 of the trees about the long, low house on the corner. 
 When he reached the bordering hedge, he did not 
 stay for gate or path, but, with a loud shout, hurled 
 himself half over, half through, the hedge, like a 
 bolt from a catapult. 
 
 Lights shone from only one room in the house> 
 the library; but as he ran toward the porch a candle 
 flickered in the hall, and there came the sound of a 
 voice weeping with terror. 
 
 At that he called more desperately upon his in- 
 credulity to aid him, for the voice was Mrs. Tan- 
 berry's. If it had been any other than she, who 
 sobbed so hopelessly she who was always steady 
 and strong! If he could, he would have stopped 
 to pray, now, before he faced her and the truth; 
 but his flying feet carried him on. 
 
284 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "Who is it?" she gasped, brokenly, from the hall. 
 * 'Mamie? Have you brought him?" 
 
 "It's I," he cried, as he plunged through the door- 
 way. "It's Vanrevel." 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry set the iron candlestick down upon 
 the table with a crash. 
 
 "You've come too late!" she sobbed. "Another 
 man has taken your death on himself." 
 
 He reeled back against the wall. "Oh, God!" he 
 said. "Oh, God. God, God! Crailey!" 
 
 "Yes," she answered. "It's the poor vagabond 
 that you loved so well." 
 
 Together they ran through the hall to the library. 
 Crailey was lying on the long sofa, his eyc.i closed, 
 his head like a piece of onrven marble, the gay uni- 
 form, in which he had tricked himself out so gal- 
 lantly, open at the throat, and his white linen 
 stained with a few little splotches of red. 
 
 Beside him knelt Miss Betty, holding her lace 
 handkerchief upon his breast; she was as white as 
 he, and as motionless; so that, as she knelt there, 
 immovable beside him, her arm like alabaster across 
 his breast, they might have been a sculptor's group. 
 The handkerchief was stained a little, like the 
 linen, and like it, too, stained but a little. Nearby, 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 285 
 
 on the floor, stood a flask of brandy and a pitcher of 
 water. 
 
 "You!" Miss Betty's face showed no change, nor 
 even a faint surprise, as her eyes fell upon Tom 
 Vanrevel, but her lips soundlessly framed the word, 
 "You!" 
 
 Tom flung himself on his knees beside her. 
 
 "Crailey!" he cried, in a sharp voice that had a 
 terrible shake in it. "Crailey! Crailey, I want 
 you to hear me!" He took one of the limp hands in 
 his and began to chafe it, while Mrs. Tanberry 
 grasped the other. 
 
 "There's still a movement in the pulse," she fal- 
 tered. 
 
 "Still!" echoed Tom, roughly. "You're mad! 
 You made me think Crailey was dead! Do you 
 think Crailey Gray is going to die? He couldn't, 
 I tell you he couldn't; you don't know him! 
 Who's gone for the doctor?" He dashed some 
 brandy upon his handkerchief and set it to the 
 white lips. 
 
 "Mamie. She was here in the room with me 
 when it happened." 
 
 '"Happened'! 'Happened'!" he mocked her, fu- 
 riously. "'Happened' is a beautiful word!" 
 
286 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "God forgive me!" sobbed Mrs. Tanberry. "I 
 was sitting in the library, and Mamie had just 
 come from you, when we heard Mr. Carewe shout 
 from the cupola room: 'Stand away from my daugh- 
 ter, Vanrevel, and take this like a dog!' Only that; 
 and Mamie and I ran to the window, and we saw 
 through the dusk a man in uniform leap back from 
 Miss Betty they were in that little open space 
 near the hedge. He called out something and 
 waved his hand, but the shot came at the same 
 time, and he fell. Even then I was sure, in spite of 
 what Mamie had said, I was as sure as Robert 
 Carewe was, that it was you. He came and took 
 one look and saw and then Nelson brought the 
 horses and made him mount and go. Mamie ran 
 for the doctor, and Betty and I carried Crailey in. 
 It was hard work/' 
 
 Miss Betty's hand had fallen from Crailey 's 
 breast where Tom's took its place. She rose un- 
 steadily to her feet and pushed back the hair from 
 her forehead, shivering convulsively as she looked 
 down at the motionless figure on the sofa. 
 
 "Crailey!" said Tom, in the same angry, shaking 
 voice. "Crailey, you've got to rouse yourself! This 
 won't do; you've got to be a man! Crailey!" He 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 287 
 
 was trying to force the brandy through the tightly 
 clenched teeth. "Crailey !" 
 
 "Crailey!" whispered Miss Betty, leaning heavily 
 on the back of a chair. "Crailey?" She looked at 
 Mrs. Tanberry with vague interrogation, but Mrs. 
 Tanberry did not understand. 
 
 "Crailey!" 
 
 It was then that Crailey's eyelids fluttered and 
 slowly opened; and his wandering glance, dull at 
 first, slowly grew clear and twinkling as it rested 
 on the ashy, stricken face of his best friend. 
 
 "Tom," he said, feebly, "it was worth the price, 
 to wear your clothes just once!" 
 
 And then, at last, Miss Betty saw and understood. 
 For not the honest gentleman, whom everyone ex- 
 cept Robert Care we held in esteem and affection, 
 not her father's enemy, Vanrevel, lay before her with 
 the death-wound in his breast for her sake, but that 
 other Crailey Gray, the ne'er-do-weel and light-o'- 
 love, Crailey Gray, wit, poet, and scapegrace, the 
 well-beloved town scamp. 
 
 He saw that she knew, and, as his brightening 
 eyes wandered up to her, he smiled faintly. "Even 
 a bad dog likes to have his day," he whispered. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE FLAG GOES MARCHING BY 
 
 "IT IT TTLL CUMMINGS had abandoned the 
 %/ %/ pen for the sword until such time as 
 Santa Anna should cry for quarter, and 
 had left the office in charge of an imported sub- 
 stitute; but late that night he came to his desk 
 once more, to write the story of the accident to 
 Corporal Gray; and the tale that he wrote had 
 been already put into writing by Tom Vanrevel 
 as it fell from Crailey's lips, after the doctor had 
 come, so that none might doubt it. No one did 
 doubt it. What reason had Mr. Carewe to injure 
 Crailey Gray? Only five in Rouen knew the truth; 
 for Nelson had gone with his master, and, except 
 Mamie, the other servants of the Carewe house- 
 hold had been among the crowd in front of the 
 Rouen House when the shot was fired. 
 
 So the story went over the town: how Crailey 
 had called to say good-by to Mrs. Tanberry; how 
 
 Mr. Carewe happened to be examining the musket 
 
 288 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 280 
 
 his father had carried in 1812, when the weapon 
 was accidentally discharged, the ball entering 
 Crailey's breast; how Mr. Care we, stricken with 
 remorse and horror over this frightful misfortune, 
 and suffering too severe anguish of mind to re- 
 main upon the scene of the tragedy which his 
 carelessness had made, had fled, attended by his 
 servant; and how they had leaped aboard the 
 evening boat as it was pulling out, and were now 
 on their way down the river. 
 
 And this was the story, too, that Tom told Fan- 
 chon; for it was he who brought her to Crailey. 
 Through the long night she knelt at Crailey's 
 side, his hand always pressed to her breast or cheek, 
 her eyes always upward, and her lips moving with 
 her prayers, not for Crailey to be spared, but that 
 the Father would take good care of him in heaven 
 till she came. "I had already given him up," 
 she said to Tom, meekly, in a small voice. "I 
 knew it was to come, and perhaps this way is better 
 than that I thought it would be far away from 
 me. Now I can be with him, and perhaps I shall 
 have him a little longer, for he was to have gone 
 away before noon." 
 
 The morning sun rose upon a fair world, gay 
 
290 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 with bird-chatterings from the big trees of the 
 Carewe place, and pleasant with the odors of Miss 
 Betty's garden, and Crailey, lying upon the bed 
 of the man who had shot him, hearkened and 
 smiled good-by to the summer he loved; and, when 
 the day broke, asked that the bed be moved so 
 that he might lie close by the window. It was 
 Tom who had borne him to that room. "I have 
 carried him before this," he said, waving the others 
 aside. 
 
 Not long after sunrise, when the bed had been 
 moved near the window, Crailey begged Fanchon 
 to bring him a miniature of his mother which he 
 had given her, and urged her to go for it herself; 
 he wanted no hands but hers to touch it, he said. 
 And when she had gone he asked to be left alone 
 with Tom. 
 
 "Give me your hand, Tom," he said, faintly. 
 "I'd like to keep hold of it a minute or so. I 
 couldn't have said that yesterday, could I, with- 
 out causing us both horrible embarrassment? But 
 I fancy I can now, because I'm done for. That's 
 too bad, isn't it? I'm very young, after all. Do 
 you remember what poor Andre Chenier said as 
 he went up to be guillotined? 'There were things 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 291 
 
 in this head of mine!' But I want to tell you what's 
 been the matter with me. It was just my be- 
 ing a bad sort of poet. I suppose that I've never 
 loved anyone; yet I've cared more deeply than 
 other men for every lovely thing I ever saw, 
 and there's so little that hasn't loveliness in it. 
 I'd be ashamed not to have cared for the beauty 
 in all the women I've made love to but about 
 this one the most beautiful of all I 
 
 "She will understand!" said Tom, quickly. 
 
 "She will yes she's wise and good. If Fan- 
 chon knew, there wouldn't be even a memory left 
 to her and I don't think she'd live. And do 
 you know, I believe I've done a favor for Miss 
 Betty in getting myself shot; Care we will never 
 come back. Tom, was ever a man's knavery so 
 exactly the architect of his own destruction as 
 mine? And for what gam? Just the excitement 
 of the comedy from day to day! for she was sure 
 to despise me as soon as she knew and the desire 
 to hear her voice say another kindly thing to me 
 and the everlasting perhaps in every woman, 
 and this one the Heart's Desire of all the world! 
 Ah, well! Tell me I want to hear it from you 
 how many hours does the doctor say?" 
 
292 THE TWO VANREVEIS 
 
 "Hours, Crailey?" Tom's hand twftcfeed piti- 
 fully in the other's feeble grasp. 
 
 "'I know it's only a few." 
 
 "They're all fools, doctors!" exciaiimed Van- 
 revel, fiercely. 
 
 "No, no. And I know that nothing can be done. 
 You all see it, and you want me to go easily 
 or you wouldn't let me have my own way so much! 
 It frightens me, I own up, to think that so soon 
 I'll be wiser than the wisest in the world. Yet I 
 always wanted to know. I've sought and I've 
 sought but now to go out alone on the search 
 it must be the search, for the Holy Grail I 
 
 "Please don't talk," begged Tom, in a broken 
 whisper. "For mercy's sake, lad. It wears on 
 you so." 
 
 Crailey laughed weakly. "Do you think I could 
 die peacefully without talking a great deal? There's 
 one thing I want, Tom. I want to see all of them 
 once more, all the old friends that are going down 
 the river at noon. What harm could it do? I want 
 them to come by here on their way to the boat, 
 with the band and the new flag. But I want the 
 band to play cheerfully! Ask 'em to play 'Rosin 
 the Bow,' will you? I've never believed in mourn- 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 293 
 
 fulness, and I don't want to see any of it now. 
 It's the rankest impiety of all! And besides, I want 
 to see them as they'll be when they come march- 
 ing home they must look gay!" 
 
 "Ah, don't, lad, don't!" Tom flung one arm 
 about the other's shoulder and Crailey was silent, 
 but rested his hand gently on his friend's head. In 
 that attitude Fanchon found them when she came. 
 
 The volunteers gathered at the court-house two 
 hours before noon. They met each other dismally, 
 speaking in undertones as they formed in lines 
 of four, while their dispirited faces showed that 
 the heart was out of them. Not so with the crowds 
 of country folk and townspeople who lined the 
 streets to see the last of them. For these, when 
 the band came marching down the street and 
 took its place, set up a royal cheering that grew 
 louder as Jefferson Bareaud, the color-bearer, car- 
 ried the flag to the head of the procession. With 
 the recruits marched the veterans of 1812 and the 
 Indian wars, the one-legged cobbler stumping 
 along beside General Trumble, who looked very 
 dejected and old. The lines stood in silence, and 
 responded to the cheering by quietly removing 
 
294 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 their hats; so that the people whispered that it 
 was more like an Odd Fellows' Sunday funeral 
 than the departure of enthusiastic patriots for the 
 seat of war. General Trumble's was not the only 
 sad face in the ranks; all were downcast and ner- 
 vous, even those of the lads from the country, 
 who had not known the comrade they were to 
 leave behind. 
 
 Jefferson unfurled the flag; Marsh gave the 
 word of command, the band began to play a quick- 
 step, and the procession moved forward down the 
 cheering lane of people, who waved little flags and 
 handkerchiefs and threw their hats in the air as 
 they shouted. But, contrary to expectation, the 
 parade was not directly along Main Street to the 
 river. "Right wheel! March!" commanded Tap- 
 pingham, hoarsely, waving his sword, and Jefferson 
 led the way into Carewe Street. 
 
 "For God's sake, don't cry now!" and Tapping- 
 ham, with a large drop streaking down his own 
 cheek, turned savagely upon Lieutenant Cum- 
 mings. "That isn't what he wants. He wants to 
 see us looking cheery and smiling. We can do it 
 for him this once, I guess! I never saw him any 
 other way." 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 295 
 
 "You look damn smiling yourself!" snuffled Will. 
 
 "I will when we turn in at the gates," retorted 
 his Captain. "On my soul, I swear I'll kill every 
 sniffling idiot that doesn't! In line, there!" he 
 stormed ferociously at a big recruit. 
 
 The lively strains of the band and the shouting 
 of the people grew louder and louder in the room 
 where Crailey lay. His eyes glistened as he heard, 
 and he smiled, not the old smile of the worldly 
 prelate, but merrily, like a child when music is 
 heard. The room was darkened, save for the light 
 of the one window which fell softly upon his head 
 and breast and upon another fair head close to his, 
 where Fanchon knelt. In the shadows at one end 
 of the room were Miss Betty and Mrs. Tanberry 
 and Mrs. Bareaud and the white-haired doctor who 
 had said, "Let him have his own way in all 
 he asks." Tom stood alone, close by the head of 
 the couch. 
 
 "Hail to the band!" Crailey chuckled, softly. 
 ''How the rogues keep the time! It's 'Rosin the 
 Bow,' all right! Ah, that is as it should be. Mrs. 
 Tanberry, you and I have one thing in common, 
 if you'll let me flatter myself so far: we've always 
 believed in good cheer in spite of the devil and all, 
 
296 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 you and I, eh? The best of things, even if things 
 are bad, dear lady, eh?" 
 
 "You darling vagabond!" Mrs. Tanberry mur- 
 mured, trying to smile back to him. 
 
 "Hark to 'em!" said Crailey. "They're very 
 near! Only hear the people cheer them! They'll 
 'march away so gaily/ won't they? and how right 
 that is!" The vanguard appeared in the street, 
 and over the hedge gleamed the oncoming banner, 
 the fresh colors flying out on a strong breeze. Crailey 
 greeted it with a breathless cry. "There's the flag- 
 look, Fanchon, your flag! waving above the hedge; 
 and it's Jeff who carries it. Doesn't it always make 
 you want to dance! Bravo, bravo!" 
 
 The procession halted for a moment in the street 
 and the music ceased. Then, with a jubilant flourish 
 of brass and the roll of drums, the band struck up 
 "The Star Spangled Banner," and Jefferson Bareaud 
 proudly led the way through the gates and down 
 the driveway, the bright silk streaming overhead. 
 Behind him briskly marched the volunteers, with 
 heads erect and cheerful faces, as they knew Corporal 
 Gray wished to see them, their Captain flourishing 
 liis sword in the air. 
 
 "Here they come! Do you see, Fanchon?" cried 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 297 
 
 Crailey, excitedly. "They are all there, Jeff and 
 Tappingham, and the two Madrillons and Will, the 
 dear old fellow he'll never write a decent para- 
 graph as long as he lives, God bless him! and 
 young Frank what deviltries I've led the boy 
 into! and there's the old General, forgetting all 
 the tiffs we've had. God bless them all and grant 
 them all a safe return! What on earth are they 
 taking off their hats for? Ah, good-by, boys, 
 good-by !" 
 
 They saw the white face at the window, and the 
 slender hand fluttering its farewell, and Tapping- 
 ham halted his men. 
 
 "Three times three for Corporal Gray!" he 
 shouted, managing, somehow, to keep the smile 
 upon his lips. "Three times three, and may he 
 rejoin his company before we enter the Mexican 
 capital!" 
 
 He beat the time for the thunderous cheers that 
 they gave; the procession described a circle on the 
 lawn, and then, with the band playing and colors 
 flying, passed out of the gates and took up the 
 inarch to the wharf. 
 
 "The flag, the flag!" whispered Crailey, following 
 it with his eyes. "It shows that you helped make 
 
298 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 it, Fanchon, it's so beautiful. Ah, Tom, they've 
 said we abused it, sometimes it was only that we 
 loved it so well we didn't like to see anyone make 
 it look silly or mean. But, after all, no man can do 
 that no, nor no group of men, nor party!" His 
 voice grew louder as the last strains of the music 
 came more faintly from the street. "They'll take 
 your banner across the Rio Grande, Fanchon, but 
 that is not all some day its stars must , spread 
 over the world! Don't you all see that they will?" 
 
 After a little while, he closed his eyes with a 
 sigh; the doctor bent over him quickly, and Miss 
 Betty started forward unconsciously and cried out. 
 
 But the bright eyes opened again and fixed them- 
 selves upon her with all their old, gay inscrutability. 
 
 "Not yet," said Crailey. "Miss Carewe, may I 
 tell you that I am sorry I could not have known 
 you sooner? Perhaps you might have liked me for 
 Fanchon's sake I know you care for her." 
 
 "I do I do! ' she faltered. "I love her, and 
 ah! I do like you, Mr. Gray, for I know you, 
 though I never met you until last night. God 
 bless you God bless you!" 
 
 She wavered a moment, like a lily in the wind, 
 and put out a hand blindly. "Not you!" she said 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 299 
 
 sharply, as Tom Vanrevel started toward her. Mrs. 
 Tanberry came quickly and put an arm about her, 
 and together they went out of the room. 
 
 "You must be good to her, Tom," said Crailey 
 then, in a very low voice. 
 
 "I!" answered Tom, gently. "There was never 
 a chance of that, lad." 
 
 "Listen," whispered Crailey. "Lean down no 
 closer." He cast a quick glance at Fanchon, 
 kneeling at the other side of the bed, her golden 
 head on the white coverlet, her outstretched hand 
 clutching his; and he spoke so close to Tom's ear 
 and in so low a tone that only Tom could hear. 
 
 "She never cared for me. She felt that she ought 
 to but that was only because I masqueraded in 
 your history. She wanted to tell me before I went 
 away that there was no chance for me. She was 
 telling me that, when he called from the window. 
 It was at the dance, the night before, that she knew. 
 I think there has been someone else from the first- 
 God send it's you! Did you speak to her that night 
 or she to you?" 
 
 "Ah, no," said Tom Vanrevel. "All the others." 
 
 Mrs. Tanberry and Betty and Mr. Bareaud waited 
 
300 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 in the library, the two women huddled together on 
 a sofa, with their arms round each other, and all the 
 house was very still. By and by, they heard a pro- 
 longed, far-away cheering and the steamer's whistle, 
 and knew that the boat was off. Half an hour later, 
 Will Cummings came back alone, entered the room 
 on tip-toe, and silently sank into a chair near Mr. 
 Bareaud, with his face away from Miss Betty. He 
 was to remain in Rouen another week, and join his 
 regiment with Tom. None of the three appeared 
 to notice his coming more than dimly, and he sat 
 with his face bowed in his hands, and did not 
 move. 
 
 Thus perhaps an hour passed, with only a sound 
 of footsteps on the gravel of the driveway, now and 
 then, and a low murmur of voices in the rear of 
 the house where people came to ask after Crailey; 
 and when the door of the room where he lay was 
 opened, the four watchers started as at a loud 
 explosion. It was Mrs. Bareaud and the old doctor, 
 and they closed the door again, softly, and came 
 in to the others. They had left Crailey alone with 
 Fanchon and Tom Vanrevel, the two who loved 
 him best. 
 
 The warm day beyond the windows became like 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 301 
 
 Sunday, no voices sounded from without in the 
 noon hush, though sometimes a little group of people 
 would gather across the street to eye the house 
 curiously and nod and whisper. The strong, blue 
 shadows of the veranda pillars stole slowly across 
 the white floor of the porch in a lessening slant, 
 and finally lay all in a line, as the tali clock in a 
 corner of the library asthmatically coughed the hour 
 of noon. In this jarring discordance there was 
 something frightful to Miss Betty. She rose abruptly, 
 and imperiously waving back Mrs. Tanberry, who 
 would have detained her for there was in her face 
 and manner the incipient wildness of control over- 
 strained to the breaking-point she went hurriedly 
 out of the room and out of the house, to the old 
 bench in the garden. There she sank down, her face 
 hidden in her arms; there on the spot where she had 
 first seen Crailey Gray. 
 
 From there, too, had risen the serenade of the 
 man she had spurned and insulted; and there she 
 had come to worship the stars when Crailey bade her 
 look to them. And now the strange young teacher 
 was paying the bitter price for his fooleries and 
 who could doubt that the price was a bitter one? 
 To have the spirit so suddenly, cruelly riven from 
 
302 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 the sprightly body that was, but a few hours ago, 
 hale and alert, obedient to every petty wish, could 
 dance, run, and leap; to be forced with such hideous 
 precipitation to leave the warm breath of June and 
 undergo the lonely change, merging with the shadow; 
 to be flung from the exquisite and commonplace day 
 of sunshine into the appalling adventure that should 
 not have been his for years and hurled into it by 
 what hand! ah, bitter, bitter price for a harle- 
 quinade! And, alas, alas! for the brave harlequin! 
 
 A gentle touch fell upon her shoulder, and Miss 
 Betty sprang to her feet and screamed. It was 
 Nelson who stood before her, hat in hand, his head 
 deeply bowed. 
 
 "Is he with you?" she cried, clutching at the 
 bench for support. 
 
 "No'm," answered the old man, humbly. "I 
 reckon we all ain' goin' see dat man no mo'." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 "On de way, honey, on de way." 
 
 "The way to Rouen!" she gasped. 
 
 "No'm; he goin' cross de big water." He stretched 
 out his hand and pointed solemnly to the east. 
 "Him an' me we cotch de boat, an' yo' pa mek 
 'em taken de hosses on bode. Den we git off at 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 303 
 
 , five mile' down de rivuh, an' yo' pa hoi' 
 de boat whiles I rid back alone an' git de news, 
 an' what de tale is you all is tole, f um ole Mist' 
 Chen'eth; an' Mist' Chen'eth, he rid back wid me 
 an' see yo' pa at Leeville, an' day talk in de shed 
 by de landin', an' yo' pa tell Mist' Chen'eth what 
 'rangements he goin' make wid de proprety. 'Den 
 he git on de boat ag'n an' dey sto't her agoin'; an' 
 he ain' wave no good-by, ner say no mo' wu'ds. 
 Mist' Chen'eth rid back whens de light come; but 
 I res' de hosses an' come back slow, 'case I ponduh 
 on de worP, an' I mighty sorry fer yo' pa, Missy. 
 He ain' comin' back no mo', honey, an' Miz Tan- 
 berry an' me an' Mamie, we goin' take keer er you. 
 Yo' pa gone back dah to de F'enchmun, whuh he 
 'uz a young man. He mighty sick, an' he scairt, 
 honey; an' he ain' goin* git ovah dat, neider. 'Peah 
 to me, Missy, like he done had a vizhum er he own 
 soul, when he come an' look down at dat young 
 man layin' on de grass, las' night!" 
 
 The old fellow bent his back before her in a solemn 
 bow, as a feudal retainer in allegiance to the heir, 
 but more in deference to the sorrow written upon 
 her, and respecting its magnitude. With no words 
 of comfort, for he knew she wanted only to be 
 
304 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 alone, lie moved away, with infirm steps and shak- 
 ing head, toward the rear of the house. 
 
 Miss Betty threw herself upon the bench again, 
 face downward in her arms. And still the house 
 lay in silence under the sunshine. 
 
 An hour had passed, and the shadows slanted 
 strongly to the east, when the stillness was broken 
 by a sound, low and small at first, then rising fear- 
 fully, a long, quavering wail of supreme anguish 
 that clutched and shook the listener's heart. No 
 one could have recognized the voice as Fanchon's, 
 yet everyone who heard it knew that it was hers; 
 and that the soul of Crailey Gray had gone out 
 upon the quest for the Holy Grail. 
 
 Miss Betty's hands clenched convulsively round 
 the arm of the bench and a fit of shuddering seized 
 her as if with the grip of a violent chill, though 
 her eyes were dry. Then she lay quiet. 
 
 A long time afterward, she became aware of a 
 step that paced the garden path behind her, and 
 turned her face upon her arm so that she saw, but 
 made no other motion. It was Tom Vanrevel, 
 walking slowly up and down, his hands behind his 
 back and his hat pulled far down over his eyes. 
 He had not seen her. 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 305 
 
 She rose and spoke his name. 
 
 He turned and came to her. ' "Almost at the 
 very last," he said, "Crailey whispered to me that 
 he knew you thought him a great scamp, but to 
 tell you to be sure to remember that it was all true 
 about the stars." 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 "GOOD-BY" 
 
 IT was between twilight and candlelight, the 
 gentle half -hour when the kind old Sand Man 
 steals up the stairs of houses where children 
 are; when rustic lovers stroll with slow and quiet 
 steps down country lanes, and old bachelors are 
 loneliest and dream of the things that might have 
 been. Through the silence of the clear dusk came 
 the whistle of the evening boat that was to bear 
 Tom Vanrevel through the first stage of his long 
 journey to the front of war, and the sound fell 
 cheerlessly upon Miss Betty's ear, as she stood lean- 
 ing against the sun-dial among the lilac bushes. 
 Her attitude was not one of reverie; yet she stood 
 very still, so still that, in the wan shimmer of the 
 faded afterglow, one might have passed close by 
 her and not have seen her. The long, dark folds 
 of her gown showed faintly against the gray stone, 
 
 and her arms, bare from the elbow, lay across the 
 
 806 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 307 
 
 face of the dial with unrelaxed fingers clenching 
 the cornice; her head drooping, not languidly but 
 with tension, her eyes half -closed, showing the 
 lashes against a pale cheek; and thus, motionless, 
 leaning on the stone in the dusk, she might have 
 been Sorrow's self. 
 
 She did not move, there was not even a flicker 
 of the eyelashes, when a step sounded on the gravel 
 of the driveway, and Vanrevel came slowly from 
 the house. He stopped at a little distance from 
 her, hat in hand. He was very thin, worn and 
 old-looking, and in the failing light might have 
 been taken for a tall, gentle ghost; yet his shoulders 
 were squared and he held himself as straight as he 
 had the first time she had ever seen him. 
 
 "Mrs. Tanberry told me I should find you here," 
 he said, hesitatingly. "I have come to say good-by." 
 
 She did not turn toward him, nor did more than 
 her lips move as she answered, "Good-by," and her 
 tone was neither kind nor cold, but held no meaning 
 whatever, not even indifference. 
 
 There was an interval of silence; then, without 
 surprise, he walked sadly to the gate, paused, 
 wheeled about suddenly, and returned with a quick, 
 firm step. 
 
308 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 "I will not go until I know that I do not mis- 
 understand you," he said, "not even if there is only 
 the slightest chance that I do. I want to say some- 
 thing to you, if you will let me, though naturally 
 I remember you once asked me never to speak to 
 you again. It is only that I have thought you did 
 that under a misconception, or else I should still 
 obey you. If you " 
 
 "What is it that you wish to say?" Her tone was 
 unchanged. 
 
 "Only that I think the hardest time for you has 
 passed, and that " 
 
 "Do you?" she interrupted. 
 
 "Yes," he returned, "the saddest of your life. 
 I think it has gone forever. And I t.Tiinlc that what 
 will come to you will be all you wish for. There 
 will be a little time of waiting 
 
 "Waiting for what?" 
 
 He drew a step nearer, and his voice became very 
 gentle. "Cummings and I reach our regiment 
 to-morrow night; and there in the camp is a group 
 of men on the way to the war, and they all go the 
 more bravely because each one of them has you 
 in his heart; not one but will be a better soldier 
 because of you. I want you to believe that if all 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 309 
 
 of them don't come back, yet the one whose safety 
 you think of and fear for will return. For, you see, 
 Crailey told me what you said to him when when 
 he met you here the last time. I have no way to 
 know which of them you meant; but he will come 
 back to you! I am sure of it, because I believe you 
 are to be happy. Ah, you've had your allotment of 
 pain! After all, there is so little to regret: the town 
 seems empty without its young men, yet you may 
 rejoice, remembering how bravely they went and how 
 gaily! They will sing half the way to Vera Cruz! 
 You think it strange I should say there is so little 
 to regret, when I've just laid away my best friend. 
 It was his own doctrine, and the selfish personal 
 grief and soreness grows less when I think of the 
 gallant end he made, for it was he who went away 
 most bravely and jauntily of all. Crailey was no 
 failure, unless I let what he taught me go to no 
 effect. And be sure he would have told you what 
 I tell you now, that all is well with all in the 
 world." 
 
 "Please!" she cried, with a quick intake of breath 
 through closed teeth. 
 
 "I will do anything in the world to please you," 
 he answered, sorrowfully. "Do you mean that " 
 
310 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 She turned at last and faced him, but without 
 lifting her eyes. "Why did you come to say 
 good-by to me?" 
 
 "I don't understand." 
 
 "I think you do." Her voice was cold and steady, 
 but it was suddenly given to him to perceive that 
 she was trembling from head to heel. 
 
 An exclamation of remorse broke from him. 
 
 "Ah! You came here to be alone. I " 
 
 "Stop," she said. "You said good-by to me 
 once before. Did you come to see what you saw 
 then?" 
 
 He fell back in utter amazement, but she ad- 
 vanced upon him swiftly. "Was it that?" she 
 cried. 
 
 The unfortunate young man could make no reply, 
 and remained unable to defend himself from her 
 inexplicable attack. 
 
 "You have not forgotten," she went on, impetu- 
 ously. "It was in the crowd, just before they gave 
 you the flag. You saw I know you saw and it 
 killed me with the shame of it! Now you come to 
 me to look at the same thing again and the boat 
 waiting for you! Is it in revenge for that night at 
 the Bareauds'? Perhaps this sounds wild to you 
 
THE TWO VANEEVELS 311 
 
 I can't help that but why should you try to make it 
 harder for me?" 
 
 From the porch came a strong voice: "Van- 
 revel!" 
 
 "God knows I haven't meant to," said Tom, in 
 bitter pain. "I don't understand. It's Cummings 
 calling for me; I'll go at once. I'd hoped, stupidly 
 enough, that you would tell me whom it was you 
 meant when you spoke to Crailey, so that I could 
 help to make it surer that he'd come back to you. 
 But I've only annoyed you. And you were here 
 away from the house avoiding me, and fearing 
 that I " 
 
 "Vanrevel!" shouted William. (Mrs. Tanberry 
 had not told Lieutenant Cummings where to find 
 Miss Betty.) 
 
 "Fearing? Yes?" 
 
 "Fearing that I might discover you." He let 
 his eyes rest on her loveliness once more, and as 
 he saw that she still trembled, he extended his hand 
 toward her in a gesture of infinite gentleness, like 
 a blessing, heaved one great sigh, and, with head 
 erect and body straight, set his face manfully toward 
 the house. 
 
 He had taken three strides when his heart stopped 
 
312 THE TWO VANREVELS 
 
 beating at an ineffable touch on his sleeve. For, 
 with a sharp cry, she sprang to him; and then, once 
 more, among the lilac bushes where he had caught 
 the white kitten, his hand was seized and held 
 between two small palms, and the eyes of Miss 
 Betty Carewe looked into the very soul of him. 
 
 "No!" she cried. "No! Fearing with a sick 
 heart that you might not come!" 
 
 Her pale face, misty with sweetness, wavered 
 before him in the dusk, and he lifted his shaking 
 hand to his forehead; her own went with it, and 
 the touch of that steadied him. 
 
 "You mean/' he whispered, brokenly, "you mean 
 that you 
 
 "Yes, always,'* she answered, rushing through 
 the words, half in tears. "There was a little time 
 when I loved what your life had been more than 
 you. Ah, it was you that I saw in him. Yet it 
 was not what you had done after all, but just you! 
 I knew there could not be anyone else though I 
 thought it could never be you that night, just 
 before they gave the flag." 
 
 "We've little time, Vanrevel!" called the voice 
 from the porch. 
 
 Tom's eyes filled slowly. He raised them and 
 
THE TWO VANREVELS 313 
 
 looked at the newly come stars. "Crailey, Crailey!'* 
 he murmured. 
 
 Her gaze followed his. "Ah, it's he and they 
 that make me know you will come back to me!" 
 she said. 
 
 THE END 
 
THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS 
 GARDEN CITY. N. Y. 
 
THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, SANTA CRUZ 
 
 This book is due on the last DATE stamped below. 
 
 
 100m-8,'65(F6282s8)2373 
 
PS2972.T9 1920 
 
 3 2106 00208 1708