Active Service - Stephen Crane (librera reader .TXT) 📗

Always And Carefully. He And The Dragoman

Then Mounted at The Head Of The Procession,  And Amid Curious

Questionings From The Soldiery They Crossed the Bridge And

Started on The Trail To Arta. The Rear Was Brought Up By The

Little Grey Horse With The Luggage,  Led by One Student And Flogged

By Another.

 

Coleman,  Checking with Difficulty The Battling disposition Of

His Horse,  Was Very Uneasy In his Mind Because The Last Words

Of The Captain Of The Battery Had Made Him Feel That Perhaps On

This Ride He Would Be Placed in a Position Where Only The Best

Courage Would Count,  And He Did Not See His Way Clear To

Feeling very Confident About His Conduct In such A Case.

Looking back Upon The Caravan,  He Saw It As A Most Unwieldy

Thing,  Not Even Capable Of Running away. He Hurried it With

Sudden,  Sharp Contemptuous Phrases.

 

On The. March There Incidentally Flashed upon Him A New

Truth. More Than Half Of That Student Band Were Deeply In love

With Marjory. Of Course,  When He Had Been Distant From Her He

Had Had An Eternal Jealous Reflection To That Effect. It Was Natural

That He Should Have Thought Of The Intimate Camping relations

Between Marjory And These Young Students With A Great Deal Of

Bitterness,  Grinding his Teeth When Picturing their Opportunities

To Make Marjory Fall In love With Some One Of Them. He Had

Raged particularly About Coke,  Whose Father Had Millions Of

Dollars. But He Had Forgotten All These Jealousies In the General

Splendour Of His Exploits.  Now,  When He Saw The Truth,  It

Seemed. To Bring him Back To His Common Life And He Saw Himself Suddenly

As Not Being frantically Superior In any Way To Those Other

Young Men. The More Closely He Looked at This

Last Fact,  The More Convinced he Was Of Its Truth. He Seemed to

See That He Had Been Impropererly Elated over

His Services To The Wainwrights,  And That,  In

The End,  The Girl Might Fancy A Man Because The Man Had Done

Her No Service At All. He Saw His Proud Position Lower Itself To

Be A Pawn In the Game. Looking back Over The Students,  He

Wondered which One Marjory Might Love. This Hideous

Nikopolis Had Given Eight Men Chance To Win Her. His Scorn And

His Malice Quite Centered upon Coke,  For He Could Never

Forget That The Man'S Father Had Millions Of Dollars. The

Unfortunate Coke Chose That Moment To Address Him

Querulously : "Look Here,  Coleman,  Can'T You Tell Us How Far It Is

To Arta ? "

 

"Coke," Said Coleman,  " I Don'T Suppose You Take Me For A

Tourist Agency,  But If You Can Only Try To Distinguish Between

Me And A Map With The Scale Of Miles Printed in the Lower Left-

Hand Corner,  You Will Not Contribute So Much To The Sufferings

Of The Party Which You Now Adorn."

 

The Students Within Hearing guffawed and Coke Retired,  In

Confusion.

 

The March Was Not Rapid. Coleman Almost Wore

Out His Arms Holding in check His Impetuous Horse. Often The

Caravan Floundered through Mud,  While At The Same Time A Hot,

Yellow Dust Came From The North.

 

They Were Perhaps Half Way To Arta When Coleman Decided

That A Rest And Luncheon Were The Things To Be Considered. He

Halted his Troop Then In the Shade Of Some Great Trees,  And

Privately He Bade His Dragoman Prepare The Best Feast Which

Could Come Out Of Those Saddle-Bags Fresh From Athens. The

Result Was Rather Gorgeous In the Eyes Of The Poor Wanderers.

First Of All There Were Three Knives,  Three Forks,  Three Spoons,

Three Tin Cups And Three Tin Plaies,  Which The Entire Party Of

Twelve Used on A Most Amiable Socialistic Principle. There Were

Crisp,  Salty Biscuits And Olives,  For Which They Speared in the

Bottle. There Was Potted turkey,  And Potted ham,  And Potted

Tongue,  All Tasting precisely Alike. There Were Sardines And The

Ordinary Tinned beef,  Disguised sometimes With Onions,  Carrots

And Potatoes. Out Of The Saddle-Bags Came Pepper And Salt And

Even Mustard. The Dragoman Made Coffee Over A Little Fire Of

Sticks That Blazed with A White Light. The Whole Thing was

Prodigal,  But Any Philanthropist Would Have Approved of It If He

Could Have Seen The Way In which The Eight Students Laid Into

The Spread. When There Came A Polite Remonstrance-Notably From

Mrs. Wainwright-Coleman Merely Pointed to A Large Bundle

Strapped back Of The Groom'S Saddle. During the Coffee He Was

Considering how Best To Get The Students One By One Out Of The Sight Of

The Wainwrights Where He Could Give Them Good Drinks Of

Whisky.

 

There Was An Agitation On The Road Toward Arta. Some People

Were Coming on Horses. He Paid Small Heed until He Heard A

Thump Of Pausing hoofs Near Him,  And A Musical Voice Say: "Rufus! "

 

He Looked up Quickly,  And Then All Present Saw His Eyes

Really Bulge. There On A Fat And Glossy Horse Sat Nora Black,

Dressed in probably One Of The Most Correct Riding habits Which

Had Ever Been Seen In the East. She Was Smiling a Radiant Smile,

Which Held The Eight Students Simpty Spell-Bound. They Would

Have Recognised her If It Had Not Been For This Apparitional

Coming in the Wilds Of Southeastern Europe. Behind Her Were

Her People-Some Servants And An Old Lady On A Very Little Pony.

" Well,  Rufus? " She Said.

 

Coleman Made The Mistake Of Hesitating. For A Fraction Of A

Moment He Had Acted as If He Were Embarrassed,  And Was Only

Going to Nod And Say: " How D'Do ?"

 

He Arose And Came Forward Too Late. She Was Looking at Him

With A Menacing glance Which Meant Difficulties For Him If He

Was Not Skilful. Keen As An Eagle,  She Swept Her Glance Over The

Face And Figure Of Marjory. Without. Further Introduction,  The

Girls Seemed to Understand That They Were Enemies.

 

Despite His Feeling of Awkwardness,  Coleman'S Mind   

Was Mainly Occupied by Pure Astonishment. "Nora Black? " He

Said,  As If Even Then He Could Not Believe His Senses. " How In

The World Did You Get Down Here ?

 

She Was Not Too Amiable,  Evidently,  Over His Reception,  And

She Seemed to Know Perfectly That It Was In her Power To Make

Him Feel Extremely Unpleasant. " Oh,  It'S Not So Far," She

Answered. " I Don'T See Where You Come In to Ask Me What I'M

Doing here. What Are You Doing here? " She Lifted her Eyes And

Shot The Half Of A Glance At Marjory. Into Her Last Question She

Had Interjected a Spirit Of Ownership In which He Saw Future

Woe. It Turned him Cowardly. " Why,  You Know I Was Sent Up

Here By The Paper To Rescue The Wainwright Party,  And I'Ve Got

Them. I'M Taking them To Arta. But Why Are You Here?"

 

" I Am Here," She Said,  Giving him The Most Defiant Of

Glances,  " Principally To Look For You."

 

Even The Horse She Rode Betrayed an Intention Of Abiding

Upon That Spot Forever. She Had Made Her Communication With

Coleman Appear To The Wainwright Party As A Sort Of Tender

Reunion.

 

Coleman Looked at Her With A Steely Eye. "Nora,  You Can

Certainly Be A Devil When You Choose."

 

" Why Don'T You Present Me To Your Friends? Mis,; Nora

Black,  Special Correspondent Of The New York Daylighi,  If

You Please. I Belong To Your Opposition. I Am Your Rival,  Rufus,

And I Draw A Bigger Salary-See? Funny Looking gang,  That.

Who Is The Old Johnnie In the White Wig?"

 

"Er-Where You Goin'-You Can'T "-Blundered coleman

Miserably "Aw-The Army Is In retreat And You Must Go Back To-

Don'T You See?"

 

"Is It?" She Agked. After A Pause She Added coolly: "Then I

Shall Go Back To Arta With You And Your Precious Wainwrights."

 

Chapter 14

Giving coleman Another Glance Of Subtle Menace Nora

Repeated: "Why Don'T You Present Me To Your Friends? "

Coleman Had Been Swiftly Searching the Whole World For A Way

Clear Of This Unhappiness,  But He Knew At Last That He Could Only

Die At His Guns. " Why,  Certainly," He Said Quickly,  " If You

Wish It." He Sauntered easily Back To The Luncheon Blanket.

"This Is Miss Black Of The New York Daylight And She Says

That Those People On The Mountain Are Greeks." The Students

Were Gaping at Him,  And Marjory And Her Father Sat In the Same

Silence. But To The Relief Of Coleman And To The High Edification

Of The Students,  Mrs. Wainwright Cried out: " Why,  Is She An

American Woman? " And Seeing coleman'S Nod Of Assent She

Rustled to Her Feet And Advanced hastily Upon The Complacent

Horsewoman. " I'M Delighted to See You. Who Would Think Of

Seeing an American Woman Way Over Here. Have You Been Here

Long? Are You Going on Further? Oh,  We'Ve Had Such A Dreadful

Time." Coleman Remained long Enough To Hear Nora Say: "

Thank You Very Much,  But I Shan'T Dismount. I Am Going to Ride

Back To Arta Presently."

 

Then He Heard Mrs. Wainwright Cry: " Oh,  Are You Indeed ?

Why We,  Too,  Are Going at Once To Arta. We Can All Go

Together." Coleman Fled then To The Bosom Of The Students,  Who

All Looked at Him With Eyes Of Cynical Penetration. He Cast A

Glance At Marjory More Than Fearing a Glare Which Denoted an

Implacable Resolution Never To Forgive This Thing. On The

Contrary He Had Never Seen Her So Content And Serene. "You

Have Allowed your Coffee To Get Chilled," She Said

Considerately. "Won'T You Have The Man Warm You Some More?"

 

"Thanks,  No," He Answered with Gratitude.

 

Nora,  Changing her Mind,  Had Dismounted and Was Coming

With Mrs. Wainwright. That Worthy Lady Had Long Had A Fund Of

Information And Anecdote The Sound Of Which Neither Her

Husband Nor Her Daughter Would Endure For A Moment. Of

Course The Rascally Students Were Out Of The Question. Here,

Then,  Was Really The First Ear Amiably And Cheerfully Open,  And

She Was Talking at What The Students Called her "Thirty Knot

Gait."

 

"Lost Everything. Absolutely Everything. Neither Of Us Have

Even A Brush And Comb,  Or A Cake Of Soap,  Or Enough Hairpins

To Hold Up Our Hair. I'M Going to Take Marjory'S Away From Her

And Let Her Braid Her Hair Down Her Back. You Can Imagine How

Dreadful It Is---"

 

From Time To Time The Cool Voice Of Nora Sounded

Without Effort Through This Clamour. " Oh,  It Will Be No Trouble

At All. I Have More Than Enough Of Everything. We Can Divide

Very Nicely."

 

Coleman Broke Somewhat Imperiously Into This Feminine Chat.

"Well,  We Must Be Moving,  You Know,  " And His Voice Started

The Men Into Activity. When The Traps Were All Packed again On

The Horse Coleman Looked back Surprised to See The Three

Women Engaged in the Most Friendly Discussion. The Combined

Parties Now Made A Very Respectable Squadron. Coleman Rode

Off At Its Head Without Glancing behind At All. He Knew That They

Were Following from The Soft Pounding of The Horses Hoofs On

The Sod And From The Mellow Hum Of Human Voices.

 

For A Long Time He Did Not Think To Look Upon Himself As

Anything but A Man Much Injured by Circumstances. Among His

Friends He Could Count Numbers Who Had Lived long Lives

Without Having this Peculiar Class Of Misfortune Come To Them.

In Fact It Was So Unusual A Misfortune That Men Of The World Had

Not Found It Necessary To Pass From Mind To Mind A Perfec T

Formula For Dealing with It. But He Soon Began To Consider

Himself An Extraordinarily Lucky Person Inasmuch As Nora Black

Had Come Upon Him With Her Saddle Bags Packed with

Inflammable Substances,  So To Speak,  And There Had Been As Yet

Only Enough Fire To Boil Coffee For Luncheon. He Laughed

Tenderly When He Thought Of The Innocence Of Mrs.

Wainwright,  But His Face And Back Flushed with Heat When Lie

Thought Of The Canniness Of The Eight American College Students.

 

He Heard A Horse Cantering up On His Left Side And Looking he

Saw Nora Black. She Was Beaming with Satisfaction And Good

Nature. " Well,  Rufus," She Cried flippantly,  " How Goes It With

The Gallant Rescuer? You'Ve Made